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dustofthedailylife · 3 years ago

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Someone embarasses them in front of you

→ Masterlist

Summary: They have a crush on you but have yet to confess it. Seems like someone else takes that matter into their own hands.

Characters: Diluc, Albedo, Zhongli x f!reader (separate)

Warnings: None - just fluff and slight awkwardness

A/N: Okay, I had this idea the other night and it really excited me so I had to write it. Maybe I will write for a few more of the genshin men if I can think of some more scenarios. Anyways, hope you enjoy! ~ I'll be continuing to simp over Ayato some more over here now, don't mind me ~

DILUC

Your shift at the Angel’s Share tonight had been quite uneventful. The usual customers hung around, drinking and chatting the night away, occasionally dragging you into some banter as you brought them more to drink or requested a song you should sing. Jose, the Bard of the Tavern, would never openly admit it, but he was always quite jealous whenever some guests asked you to sing for them instead of him. Charles would often tease him about it a little, much to everyone’s entertainment. You truly loved your job here.

You still vividly remember the day Charles had offered you to work for the Angel’s Share. Back then you were working for the Cat’s Tail still and had already considered quitting and looking for another job. Because despite working your butt off over there you hadn’t gotten a raise in years, even after asking your boss about one back then. You had just been told to work a little harder and maybe then she’d consider it. Certainly, that was their loss now!

You looked around the Tavern to make sure everyone was still provided with drinks until your gaze fell upon a familiar redhead behind the bar. That’s right, Diluc being here today was the only thing that could be considered out of the ordinary. He usually doesn’t stay so late, if he even shows up at all. As the wine-tycoon of Mondstadt he was often preoccupied with more urgent matters than working shifts at the tavern. Not that you would blame him of course, but you couldn’t help but be a little excited whenever he was there, after all he was quite handsome. Not that you’d ever stand a chance with him, but one can dream, right?

After bringing more drinks to some regulars and briefly chatting with Charles you went outside of the Tavern to wipe the tables clean and fetch the dirty cups to bring them inside. Just as you were about to head back inside you heard some ruckus and assumed it was some drunkards who must’ve gotten into a fight but once you had arrived you saw it was just Kaeya sitting at the bar, talking loudly and throwing his arm around Charles’ shoulders. He looked to be slightly tipsy already and was certainly in a good mood.

As you walked behind the bar and set the dirty dishes down into the sink, you saw that Diluc was certainly less amused than the Cavalry Captain.

“What are you doing here Kaeya?” Diluc said with an annoyed undertone in his voice.

“Well, am I not allowed to pay my hot-headed brother’s tavern a visit once in a while to get some drinks? Besides, not like you’re here that often anyway.”

Diluc said nothing more, just exhaled in annoyance and continued to clean the glass in his hand.

“If you aren’t careful I’m going to attempt to steal that pretty bartender away from you. Isn’t that how you got her working here in the first place?”

Kaeya donned a mischievous grin and a bunch of question marks popped up in your head. What does he mean, that’s how he got you to work here, too?

“Kaeya, Charles asked me to work here.” You said with a light chuckle and tried to not make much out of what he says given that he was very obviously tipsy.

“Sweetheart, and who do you think Charles’ boss is?”

Before you could reply anything, you heard glass shatter next to you. The glass Diluc had been cleaning was now splintered at the bottom from being placed on the counter too forcefully.

“I think you should go now, Kaeya. You’re clearly drunk and not yourself.”

“Ah, I believe I’m quite myself actually. At least I know how to speak what is on my mind. Well then, see you around, brother.” And with that he was off, leaving a very flustered and irritated Diluc behind. You didn’t know what just happened but you were very puzzled about it all, and tried to convince yourself that it was probably just drunk Kaeya, trying to provoke a reaction out of Diluc, you knew they had something of a past, so you decided to brush it off and console Diluc.

“Don’t take it to heart, we all know how Kaeya is when he is drunk.”

“No.” He swallowed and blushed even more. “What he said is true, I told Charles to poach you because– I wanted to get to know you better.”

You were speechless and your heart immediately started racing. Someone definitely needed to pinch you right now in order to convince you that you weren’t just daydreaming. There was no way he just said that.

“So, what do you say? Would you perhaps be interested to go out with me sometime?”

ALBEDO

It was a nice and sunny day in Mondstadt and also the first day off you had gotten in a while. The Acting Grandmaster had told you to take a break today. Quite ironic coming from her actually, given that she is the one who never seems to rest.

You loved your work at the Knights of Favonius but it was equally taxing a lot of the time, especially when you had to work with the Chief Alchemist, Albedo. He was always very demanding when it came to his research, although you would lie if you said you don’t like working with him, given that you’ve had a crush on him even since before starting to work at the Knights. Admittedly that made things complicated and often caused you to be a little nervous and unconcentrated around him, but you tried your best. Not like you ever had a chance he’d like you back, right?

You stepped out of the house to fetch some groceries for dinner later tonight. A day off had to be celebrated with some quality food. Maybe you were gonna make some Sweet Madame or Mushroom Chicken Skewers, you’ll just have to see which ingredients you could get at Good Hunter.

Once there you went through your shopping list and got everything you needed, even some extra ingredients for some dessert pancakes with whip cream and fruit. Today was going to be great, you could feel it.

You thanked Sara and grabbed the big basket full of fresh ingredients and started to walk back to your home. You might’ve gone a little overboard with your shopping because the basket was so heavy you had trouble carrying it with one hand. You heaved it up and hugged it to your chest, even if that made it a little hard to see where you were going because now it was blocking your field of view.

You started to walk a few steps more, looking past the side of the basket to the ground until you ran into someone, or rather, someone ran into you. The force of the impact caused you to stumble backwards and fall on the ground, scattering all your groceries around you. Oh no.

“Oopsies!”

You looked up and saw a little blonde girl, wearing a red-white dress and a big red hat with a feather. It was Klee. You’ve seen her at work before with Jean and Albedo. They both look after her while her mother is gone.

“I didn’t mean to run into you. I’m sorry!” The little girl said.

“It’s okay, nothing happened!”

You started to pick up your groceries from the floor, at least they seemed fine too, for the most part. But a little dirt never hurt anyone, right? Klee started to help you pick up your stuff but suddenly stopped when she took a closer look at you and her eyes started to shine and her mouth opened in surprise.

“Klee, where did you run off to?” The owner of the very familiar sounding voice, jogged around the corner of the street, visibly distraught by the sight that showed up in front of him. “I told you not to run through the streets because you could hurt someone.”

“Yes, I know Bedo. I’m sorry!” She pouted a brief moment before excitedly looking back at you and pointing at your face. “But look who it is, it’s the pretty Knight Lady you keep drawing in your sketchbook!”

“What?” That had caught you quite off guard and you could feel the heat rise to your face. He was drawing you? Judging by the expression on his face and the slight blush on his cheeks, the little girl was right. You’d never seen him so flustered before and to think it was because of something related to you of all things, made your heart beat faster.

“I– I draw a lot of people, Klee.”

“Hmmm- yes that is true! You draw Klee and Dodoco a lot too, but not nearly as much as you draw her, you even have a dedicated sketchbook. I understand though, she is very pretty.”

The slight blush on his face turned into a beet red color. He started to scratch the back of his head and stared to the side to avoid your gaze. Klee had properly embarrassed him and had made both you and him flustered beyond belief and she was blissfully unaware of it, just smiling excitedly.

“Well.” He broke the silence, adressing you directly. “Are you interested to see them? I could come over later and show them to you, if you want. I heard today is your day off.”

ZHONGLI

“Oyah, there you are!” Hu Tao excitedly waved at you when you came out of your office at the Wangsheng Funeral parlor, saying goodbye to some clients who had just come in this morning.

Your favorite part of the job was being able to work with people, and despite the sad situations you had to deal with, it always filled your heart with joy to help clients pay their last tributes to their lost loved ones. Hu Tao was even more exceptional at that, despite being very straightforward a lot of the time.

“How did it go?” She asked.

“It went alright, they booked another appointment for tomorrow morning with Zhongli because they had some special wishes regarding incense and the symbolism tied to specific fragrances and I told them that he would be the best one to talk to when it comes to that.”

“Mh-hm, I see. Very good.”

Whenever you had to talk about Zhongli you tried to sound as casual and unbothered as possible but deep down you always felt giddy with excitement whenever you spoke his name. He was the consultant of the Funeral Parlor and you've had the biggest crush on him ever since you had started working here. You especially loved working with him directly and listening to one of his many stories. You never ceased to be amazed about how knowledgeable he is. You could only hope he felt the same things about you, but you didn’t dare to hope. You actually knew quite a handful of people who also had an eye on the handsome Consultant and he was very private overall, so he might even have someone special in his life already.

“If I am allowed to intrude into this discussion - I think you’d be very good at that yourself.” The very same man you had just briefly daydreamed about, walked around the corner, leaning against the shelf in a quite elegant way, addressing you directly.

“Oh that’s very flattering but you’re definitely the one best suited for that.”

“Woooow, do you guys know that you two are so bad at hiding you both have a thing going for each other and are too awkward to act on it? It's actually quite funny to witness. Just kiss already.” Hu Tao, leaned back in her chair and folded the hands behind her head with a devilish smirk.

“Excuse me, Director? I’m not sure I follow.” Zhongli looked as unphased as ever. You had hoped to see at least a little bit of distress or something similar on his face that could indicate he is interested in you as well but, there was nothing.

“Maybe I need to give that big brain of yours a helping hand.”

Hu Tao jumped up from her chair and breezed past him right into his office, which he had conveniently left the door open to just now. You heard her open all sorts of drawers and rummaging around in them and returned with a single sheet of paper in her hand. All color was suddenly drained from Zhongli’s face when he saw what she was holding.

“Does this ring a bell, mister?” She waved the paper around in front of his face with a devilish smirk. You could see that he was trying his hardest to keep his composure.

“I do not know how to formulate the words I desire to tell you but rest assured that I do so with all my heart. During the time we had while working together at the Funeral Parlor, I have to admit, I’ve grown quite fond of you –” Hu Tao started reading the contents of the letter out aloud, obviously trying to mimic Zhongli’s voice. “Do I need to continue or do you follow me now?”

“I do, thank you.” He grabbed his chin and looked at the floor, his cheeks tinted in a light rose color.

“Well, I will spare you my comment about being old fashioned for now but I doubt you’re talking about me here and since you are only working together with one other person here, I have an idea who this letter is addressed to, hehehe ~” She neatly folded the letter again and pressed it in your hand, winking at you and putting her hands on her hips.

“Ugh, so anyway, I am staaaarving” Hu Tao dramatically exclaimed and put the back of her hand on her forehead, acting as if she didn’t just casually reveal one of Zhongli’s biggest secrets. “It’s already lunch time, so I’m gonna go grab something before I die over here. You two – I think you might have something to talk about now. Anyway. Later!”

And with that she stormed out of the Parlor, leaving you and a very embarrassed and flustered Zhongli behind. He was lost for words, which was rare. You’ve never seen him like this, and to think that you were the cause of that was quite frankly said - unbelievable. When he spoke again your heart skipped a beat.

“So, uhm – would you perhaps be interested to grab lunch together with me, too?”

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know which one was your favorite! o(>ω<)o

My asks are open, if you wanna write me a message. I'm always excited about them ~ ♥

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prettyboypucey · 3 years ago

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Weird ~ G.W.

Summary: George is gorgeous. Charlie is a meddler. The snow is cold. (this summary sucks...just read it)

Pairing: George Weasley x Y/N

Word Count: 2,404 (who do I think I am?)

Warnings: mentions of bullying. mentions of food/eating. george is unknowingly triggering? reader cries. idk? let me know if i missed something.

A/N: part 2? maybe? translations are for romanian via google translate. do not come for me if they are hella wrong.

Translations: draga - darling; dragoste - love; tampit - stupid

I had never been normal. From the time I was a toddler I had stars in my eyes and dirt on my knees. While the other kids in my grade were playing with dolls and dressing respectably, I was riding imaginary dragons and wearing mismatched socks with dungarees and a butterfly headband. Normalcy evaded me even further when at 11 years old, I got a letter declaring me a witch.

When I first came to Hogwarts I spent the majority of my time alone. It appeared that even children who could wave a stick around and makes things fly wanted nothing to do with the colorful little girl. Meeting Luna Lovegood in my second year was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Here was a girl who allowed me to be exactly who I was with no judgments. And then she introduced me to Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley, and suddenly that little girl who thought her only friends would always be the rocks she painted faces on, had found her people.

Of course, being friends with Ginny Weasley meant knowing her many brothers. So after graduation when I went off to Romania to work with dragons it made me feel slightly better knowing Charlie Weasley would be there. He quickly took me under his wing and became the older brother figure I had never had. After working together for three years, and electing to stay at the sanctuary for the last two over the holidays, he had finally convinced me to come home with him. I was reluctant to leave the sanctuary - the one place I truly feel safe (despite the massive fire breathing creatures).

Charlie had warned me that being with one or two of the Weasleys was very different from being with the entire Weasley clan. Obviously I knew Charlie and Ginny, Ron had always been nice to me, and I had met Molly a handful of times in passing. However, Bill was known to be quite intimidating, Percy was supposedly very no-nonsense, and the twins (albeit never cruel) had a reputation of being hell-raisers.

Apparating to the edge of a marsh with Charlie by my side I could see the rising structure haphazardly balanced slightly ahead.

Pausing, I glanced at the back of the familiar red covered head, “I don’t know Charles, maybe I should just go back. I really don’t want to be a burden.”

Charlie very quickly rounded behind me to continue guiding me towards his home, “No, no, no, no, no. No. You’re not a burden to anyone draga. Keep your head up and if any of them give you grief - remind them of the giant, winged beasts you can feed them to.”

Quickly placing a kiss to the side of my head Charlie bounded ahead again to open the door and announce your arrival. Before I could toe off the first boot to leave next to the dozen other pairs in the entryway, a pair of arms had flung around my neck.

“Y/N! I missed you so much!”, Ginny pulled back, keeping her grip on my shoulders, to inspect for any major injuries.

I held onto her elbows, keeping her close, “Hi Gin, I missed you too. A lot. I’m loving this new look by the way.”

She reached up to brush the now short locks behind her ears. A grin on her face as the two of us looked the other over for the first time in months. Ginny was wrapped in a pretty baby pink sweater with shades of red and white running through it. The material was soft against my palm as I hooked it around her crooked elbow to follow her into the living area.

“You know”, she started, “I was starting to think maybe Charlie had let you get eaten or burnt to a crisp in the land of dragons. It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me or left the sanctuary.”

“I’m sorry Ginny. It’s just that after everything, I had to keep myself busy.”

Ginny’s smile softened into one of understanding. The war had taken a part of all of us. Although Fred had recovered after many months, that fear of almost losing such a vital part of their family had rocked the entire Weasley family to its core.

“I get it, I do, but I worry about you. I just want you to know you’re not alone Y/N.”

I pulled the girl into another tight hug, “I know.”

Ginny pulled away first, clearing her throat, “Okay! Now that’s out of the way - it’s time to introduce the one and only Y/N L/N to the Weasley’s.”

I hummed, “Hmmm and which of us should be more scared?”

“Oh definitely the Weasleys.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Meeting the Weasley family had gone much better than expected.

Molly had opened her arms and home to me as if I was one of her own children. By the time the night was over she had me stuffed full of warm food and drink and donning my very own coveted Weasley sweater, the lavender initial in the middle marking it as my own. Arthur had been very interested in my muggle parents and upbringing, questioning me about the functions of a rubber duck. Bill and his wife Fleur were the most stunning couple I have ever seen, and not nearly as intimidating as people portrayed them. Fleur was pleased when she found out I spoke a bit of conversational French and promised to have me over to Shell Cottage (apparently they have an amazing collection of wind chimes that I am dying to see). Percy was a bit more refined. Completely polite and friendly but he seemed reserved. Ginny had explained in one of her letters how much guilt Percy carried after the Battle of Hogwarts over how he had behaved in the years leading up to that day.

The twins were much different than I remembered them being from the few times we were around each other in school. The physical differences were clear - George’s missing ear and Fred’s dragging limp were both signs of the prices they paid in the war. More than that however, they had matured greatly. They were still happy and made sure to pull at least two pranks over the night, poor Molly nearly lost her voice after they blew up the turkey. However, there was something in their eyes that had been dimmed. Especially in George.

His twin almost died that night, and it reflected in George’s eyes each time he looked at his older brother. It was clear that he was still afraid because whenever Fred left a room George followed, never letting his brother out of his sight, and if he happened to lose track of him a panic began to swirl in his brown orbs.

I was in the middle of watching as George yet again made his way to Fred’s side, clapping a large hand on his twins shoulder and throwing his head back in laughter.

“So which one are you staring at dragoste?”, Charlie whispered as he appeared out of nowhere.

I ignored the burning in my cheeks as I looked away from the scene in front of me.

“I am not staring at either of them tampit.”

“Mhmm, sure, absolutely, I believe you.”, after a quick pause he said, “It’s George isn’t it?”

I turned and scoffed at him, “No!… How did you know?”

Charlie let out a chuckle, “Because I know you my little dragon. I also know my brother, and just between us, he definitely likes you as well.”

At this I let out an incredulous laugh and glanced back to where George was now telling a story, his hands moving animatedly. There was no way that George Weasley had even a remote attraction to me. He was kind, strong, clever, and so bloody gorgeous it truly was a privilege to look at him. And I am…me. Nothing special. Just a girl who had more dragon friends than human ones and whose hands were covered in scars and callouses and whose socks never matched and had never even kissed a man before. So no, there was no way that George Weasley would ever like me.

“Hey. I know that look Y/N. Stop those thoughts right this bloody second.”

“Charles it really is annoying when you read me like that.”

Throwing his arm over my shoulder he began to lead me towards the twins, “Yes I know and I am sorry in advance but this needs to be done. Fred!”

Charlie’s voice had gone from a rushed whisper to a jovial shout when we reached George, Fred, and Ron by the fireplace. George’s smile as he turned to look at us sent a million butterflies off in my tummy.

“So Freddy, I was hoping you could help me out with a top secret project tomorrow for mum and maybe show me around the joke shop. I heard you added some new displays that I want to check out.”

“Sure Charlie”, Fred glanced at George as he spoke, “I’m sure we can make some time for our favorite brother.”

Ignoring Rons protest, Charlie gripped my shoulders and pushed me in front of him, “Actually George I was thinking you could stay here and show Y/N around the area. She mentioned wanting to talk a walk tomorrow and I would hate to disappoint her on her first Christmas out of the sanctuary.”

“Um-”

I interrupted the rejection coming from George, “No please, I would hate to be a bother and make you be stuck with me all day. I’m sure Ginny can take me.”

George smiled and shook his head, “No it’s completely fine Y/N. I would be happy to show you around.”

“Okay great! It’s settled then!”, Charlie looked rather too pleased with himself and obviously missed the look exchanged by his identical younger brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning the Burrow was a flurry of movement as everyone began their day. Apparently Charlie and Fred weren’t the only ones on their way out. The others still had some last minute gift shopping to do and Ron was spending the day with Hermione’s muggle family. After breakfast, a quick wink from Charlie, and a slam of the front door - George and I were alone in the house.

The two of us stood facing one another in the living room for a few awkward moments before George spoke, “Well, um, did you want to head out as well?”

“Oh sure! Yes, let me just grab my boots really quickly.”

George led me out the door and onto the snow covered path towards the small, iced over river. Nothing was said for a while, the only sound was the crunch of snow under our boots and the occasional sniffle from one of our red noses. I was mentally imagining all the ways I was going to kick Charlie’s ass when he got back for suggesting a walk in the middle of winter when we came to the top of a hill and stopped.

Everything as far as the eye could see was blanketed in sheets of white. Stomping my boots down into the fresh snow, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the snow gave way underfoot. Feeling a pair of eyes on me I remembered that I wasn’t alone and turned to see George watching me with an unidentifiable look on his face.

“Sorry, sorry. That was - I don’t know why I did that. I liked the feeling of the crunch of the snow I guess. Sorry.”

George grinned, “You don’t have to apologize. It was cute.”

I could feel my face flush at his words. His smile grew even wider at the sight of my heated face. My gaze dropped from his pretty face down to my boots. I could feel the thick socks I had on beginning to grow cold and wet from how long we’d been outside. Looking back up I could see George’s deep eyes glaze over. Assuming it was because he had been apart from Fred so long I glanced out at the view one last time before turning back the way we came.

“We should probably get back. We’ve been gone a while and my toes are getting wet. I feel bad enough that Charlie forced you to do this anyways without you getting frostbite or something. I’ve had frostbite, it’s not fun. And now I’m rambling. I’m sorry. Sorry”

George was shaking his head at me and said, “You are so weird.”

Ouch. My chest tightened and the small smile I had been wearing dropped from my face. If I had been able to see past the tears forming in my eyes that were making my sight blurry, I would have seen George’s face do the same. Unfortunately, all I could focus on was that word. Weird. Strange. Abnormal. Freak.

Weird weird weird.

The walk back was silent. A thick tension surrounded you both as thick snow flurries began to swirl down in the midmorning air. Just as thick was the lump forming in my throat as I fought back tears. I know I shouldn’t let his words affect me. He’s just some guy. But deep down I also know that he’s not just some guy. This is George fricking Weasley. With his stupid perfect face and gorgeous eyes and his loyalty to his family. I couldn’t help but be enamored with him from the moment I walked in the Weasley’s front door. So it hurt to hear the man I liked call me that nasty word that has haunted me my entire life.

When we finally reached the Burrow, George tried to reach for my arm but I pulled away and ran into the house. I could hear that some of the others had returned and really wanted to avoid a confrontation. Once again, luck wasn’t on my side. Charlie came walking out of the kitchen and saw me in the entryway. His face immediately became concerned at the sight of me and he lowered the sandwich he had from his mouth.

“Draga?”, Charlie’s voice followed me as I finally reached the stairs and launched upstairs.

As I reached the first landing I heard him speak again, his voice rough and hard.

“What did you do?”

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter writing #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x platonic!reader #charlie weasley imagine #hp #harry potter

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years ago

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romeo must die

this one-shot is based on the song Romeo Must Die by Gabrielle Aplin, I highly recommend listening to it! shout out to @eugeniaslongsword for introducing me to it :) i even borrowed some lyrics from it haha. it is also inspired by the entire playlist I made, "being treated badly by someone doesn't make you love them more"

content warnings: past toxic/unhealthy relationship, the uncomfy 6-year age gap between Alastair and Charles

Masterlist | Read on AO3

"Alastair, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"

Alastair looked up from what he was working on. He was in the library of the Institute, along with Cordelia, Thomas, James, Matthew, and Christopher. They were searching for any clue as to how Lucie had done what she’d done or what Tatiana and Belial were planning. Alastair wasn't entirely sure how he got roped into the ordeal, but it seemed as though Thomas suggested him as an extra set of eyes, and Cordelia latched onto the idea.

"No," he said curtly, returning to his reading.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no. I'm quite busy at the moment." Alastair spoke under his breath, not wanting to draw the others' attention. How many times had Charles barked the same words at him, swatting him away, hacking away at paperwork or planning his next step in his career? The words sat bittersweet in his chest.

"Surely you could spare a few moments."

"I certainly could. But I do not wish to." Charles had a way of getting into his head and twisting his words and his feelings. It was not an experience he wished to revisit. It was better here, with an audience. It had also been easier in the infirmary, knowing that he held all of the power. His father had made him feel the same way, he thought bitterly. He understood now that what he'd done at school was not only to protect himself from the bullies. He wanted to reclaim the power stolen from him by his father; he wanted for once in his life to hold power himself. He hadn't yet come to the realization that holding that kind of power did nothing but harm. It was of no use, anyways, because it didn't matter how much he perfected his tongue and his wit on the other students at the Academy, he was never able to use it when it counted. Not with Elias, and not with Charles.

"It's fine if you need to take a few minutes, Alastair,” Cordelia said gently. All of the eyes in the room had come to rest on the two of them. Now he wished he’d spoken louder.

“It’s alright, Charles was just leaving.”

He had hoped that Charles would give up and leave knowing that everyone was watching him, but he was determined. He grabbed Alastair’s arm. “It’ll just be-”

Alastair stood, but pulled his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

In a flicker, Alastair saw it: the anxiety began to set in. Charles began to realize that he would not be able to play his usual tricks. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I believe I was quite clear when I told you I don’t wish to speak with you. You’re the one who can’t let this go.”

“Must you act so childish?”

He rolled his eyes. “Must you always call me childish for thinking for myself instead of catering to your every whim?”

“I don’t understand. You said we were fine.”

Alastair sighed. Perhaps for a moment, he thought that was true. For just a second, he thought there was a world where he and Charles could be friends. But Alastair had decided that he would no longer call people who hurt him his friends. “Yes, well, I lied. I wanted to let you down gently, but it’s clear to me now that it must be spelled out for you. How shall I put this? You and I are past our dancing days, Charles.”

“But-” He stammered, searching for words. “What happened with Grace Blackthorn wasn’t my fault.”

“Maybe not. But what of Miss Bridgestock? Am I to pretend that what happened with Miss Blackthorn was not the same as what happened two years earlier?”

“You told me many times that you took no issue with that, that you understood.”

“I understood what you told me, which we both know was never the full truth. I was a sixteen year old desperate for your affections, and the fact that you truly believe I never had any issue with your arrangement is proof that you never genuinely cared about me or listened to my thoughts. I told you in the infirmary that this wasn’t your fault because I thought it’d ease the pain, but I lied. And I don’t have time to sit here and watch you cry over it.”

Alastair wished that watching Charles become flustered would have been more enjoyable. Instead, all he wanted was for this to end. “You- you’re different than when we met. You’ve changed. You’re cruel and callous, I don’t understand how I could not see how heartless you were until now. You are everything that everyone claims you to be. How am I to even know what the truth is when it comes from your lips?”

There was a time when those words would have cut deeply into him, eating at his every insecurity, but Charles mistakenly assumed that Alastair was the same person he was last July, with the same insecurities. “When we met, I was fourteen years old. I’ve grown up, and it is time for you to do the same. It’s been six months, Charles. You need to stop writing me. If that makes me heartless, I don’t care. And if you wish to know the truth, the truth is that the moment you leave here, if I never see your face again, it still will not be long enough.”

Charles stared at him for a long while, unable to find a proper retort. In the end, it was Matthew who stepped in. “Charles, I believe it’s time for you to go.”

He obliged, finally turning to leave the library. As he began to walk away, however, Alastair knew that he was not finished. His heart beat a little bit faster at the thought of such a confession, and faster again when he realized who would hear it, but there was no piece of parting with Charles that he wished to regret.

“Wait,” he said. Charles froze and turned to look at him. “I know it’s unlikely that you have it in the cold depths of your soul to care, but let the record show that I would have given you everything. I would have given you my life, all of the love and trust that I had to give, and then I would have given more. And you gave me nothing. So the next time you’re pondering my heartlessness, you ought to wonder what that means for you.”

Finally satisfied, Alastair did not wait for Charles to turn and leave again to return to his seat and pick his reading back up. He waited for a moment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. He stood once more, opening his mouth to speak, but the words were caught in his throat. Instead, he walked out of the library in silence.

Finding the nearest balcony, he attempted to steady his breath.

“Are you alright?” He heard from behind him. Thomas. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He shook his head. “I just needed some air.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Alastair sighed. He backed up against the window and slid down to the floor of the balcony. “I know- I know that everyone sort of knew already, but… by the Angel, I feel so pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Thomas told him, sitting down beside him.

“You were right, of course you were. I was so… taken with him, back in Paris. I couldn’t see him for what he was. I was so naive, so foolish. I just- After everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve been through, how did I not realize-”

Thomas put his hand on Alastair’s knee. “You wanted to see the best in him. After everything you’d seen and been through, you wanted to believe that there were still good and honest people in the world. And there are. I’m sorry that he was not one of them, but that does not make you foolish or pathetic. It makes you… kind.”

“I bet you’d never imagined describing me as such before.”

“It seems you’re full of surprises,” Thomas teased. “But that’s not true. I always saw the kindness in you, even back at school, when you did everything to keep it hidden.”

“As you can see, my ‘kindness’ has never gotten me very far.”

“You were out of practice. Following me on my reckless nighttime patrols, that was kind. More than kind. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, for risking your life to protect mine.”

“I didn’t do it for gratitude.”

“And yet I owe you mine nonetheless.”

“I can’t go back in there, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can tolerate you and your friends hating me just fine. But if any of your friends give me even an ounce of pity- well, we’ll see just where the limits of my kindness lie, won’t we?”

Thomas stood up, offering Alastair his hand. “Pity comes from those who cannot even begin to understand what you’ve experienced. For what it’s worth, I don’t think my friends will pity you. But if they do, you can ignore them. For Lucie.”

Alastair sighed and allowed Thomas to pull him to his feet. “Fine. Let’s get back to reading.”

“Speaking of reading, do you have the entirety of Shakespeare’s canon memorized, or only the lines you believe may pop up in conversation?”

“Excuse me?”

“‘For you and I are past our dancing days,’ it’s Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it? It’s the only one of his works that I got through.”

Alastair froze. “You haven’t read Hamlet?”

“I tried.”

“Othello? King Lear? Macbeth? Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

He shook his head.

“That’s impossible. And James is friends with you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wait until my sister finds out you haven’t read Hamlet,” he warned, starting towards the library with urgency in his step.

“Wait, don’t- I just don’t like Shakespeare! What’s so wrong with that?” Thomas’ attempts at reasoning were futile, however, a welcome distraction from all of their recent sorrows finally taking hold.

Thanks for reading!! This was self indulgent af lol. I'm not to sure whether some people only wanted to be tagged in my social media AU, so if that's the case I'm sorry & please tell me!: @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @thecodexsays @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @icouldnotask @shadowhunting-hooligans @melanielocke @clarys-heosphoros @kiwichaeng @lightwoodsimp @thecrimsonsorceresss @theenchanteddreamer @adams-left-hand @yozinha-z @ipromiseiwillwrite @skirtsandsweaters @goodoldfashionednerd

#alastair carstairs #charles fairchild #if you're a charles apologist just block me #thomas lightwood #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #cw toxic relationship #coi spoilers #fanfiction #fanfic

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cowboisadness · 4 years ago

Text

Warm Beer {Arthur Morgan x F!Reader} 18+

Some warm beer and a lot of teasing with a beer bottle idk i came up with this idea at like 3am.

No smut but might do a part 2. Sexually suggestive and sexual themes. UNDER 18 DNI

Wordcount: 1604

.....

The beer stays warm here in Lemoyne. With no escape from the persistent heat and humidity, as well as none of us being stupid enough to keep the crates submerged in the swamp water surrounding us in the hopes they would be a few degrees cooler to actually give us all some relief.

Relief is what all of us needed right now. Constantly running from the law and Pinkertons, bad job after bad job, the camp’s money slowly dwindling, some people working too hard while others did barely anything other than keep their asses flat to the ground.

The only positives being we now have a real roof over our heads courtesy of the shambles that is Shady Belle and the beer was never in short supply.

This hot and disgusting evening had us all sat either by the fire or at one ofthe tables nearby. Listening to Javier and Uncle share a merry tune while we drank the evening away thanks to this piss-water excuse for alcohol.

Arthur, John and Bill returned only a couple of hours ago after planning to rob a high-value stagecoach that was making its way from Blackwater to Rhodes. it was a disaster, as Arthur expected.

‘They are never worth the trouble.’ He would say ‘Always turn into a bloodbath.’ he would argue...and he was right, as usual.

The coach wasn’t holding even half of what they were expecting and they got away with even less and a bullet wound for Bill, thankfully it wasn’t anything a few stitches couldn’t handle.

Arthur was still sour about the whole ordeal even a couple of hours later. So I did what I have been doing for almost a year now when he gets like this. Leave him to calm down then let him take the rest of it out on me in private. We all win that way.

I had my eyes on that man since the day I arrived in the gang almost two years ago, and it wasn’t long until the shy glances, shy touches and even shyer words became more for us. But it took a year for both of our stubborn asses to take the next step. Trying to keep it a secret from the others was both thrilling and a task in itself. Only so many last-minute hunting trips that would result in us only bringing back one deer or a few turkeys and rabbits before people started asking questions.

So we all sat here, Sadie and Karen by my side at the table engrossed in their own conversation, but I was paying no mind to them or their chatter.

My eyes drifted to the campfire and those sat around it, finally landing on him. Whiskey in had as he listened to Javier strum his guitar and uncle on his banjo. A few of the others sat around singing along. The flames in the centre lighting up his face just enough to see his still sour expression. That man works too hard and cares too much for his own good sometimes.

He takes a sip from the whiskey bottle, the flames now illuminating along the length of his neck. The beer bottle in my hand momentarily forgotten, my fingers gracing up and down the neck absent-mindedly as I watched him. He’s a bear of a man, a Grizzly if I was to be specific. Large, imposing and with the ability to strike fear in the heart of any man with the growl in his voice. A brute when he needed to be but a gentle soul when he wanted to be. Like he was with me unless we both desired the former.

I watched as he nodded his head along with the song, then when he laughed at whatever Charles said to him. I watched as his eyes scanned the group around him before landing on me, giving a light smile as he found my eyes were on him already. A smile I gladly returned.

His gaze didn't falter, so I decided to give him something more to keep his attention on me.

With the girls still chatting away beside me, something about us girls needing to initiate a job or two and let the men lay back and relax while we took the reins for once, I placed my almost empty bottle across the table to draw his eyes to it. My fingers returning to the neck to delicately stroke up and down.

My eyes flicked down to the bottle then back to him, giving off the sense that I was perhaps thirsty for something else.

He straightened his posture as my hand gripped the neck and was that his breath I heard hitch from all the way over here?

I turned my attention back to the bottle, keeping the slow pace as I glided my hand to the base and then back up to the tip of the neck, tilting my head to the side as if the glass was deserving of the attention I was giving it. Allowing a few more glides when I glanced back at him through my lashes. His brows furrowed, he began to fidget where he was sat, a fire now burning in his eyes. But not burning hot enough...I accept the challenge.

My eyes remained locked with his as I loosened my grip, my fingers returning to the neck, my thumb gracing the tip in circular motions.

The light from the fire is just enough to see him gulp and the grip on his bottle so tight I was surprised it hadn’t shattered under the pressure.

With a sultry smile, I lift the bottle to my lips to take a drink, the warm liquid coating my throat barely even an afterthought.

I lick my lips as I stare at the bottleneck and despite nothing being spilt, with another smile I press my tongue to the bottom of the neck, trailing it up to the tip. Well, it would be a shame to waste even a drop.

I heard the footsteps before I could register that he even moved from his place by the fire. Not even bothering to approach he kept his eyes on me as he stormed his way towards the house. The fire in his eyes burning like the centre of a giant star, caving under pressure only to inevitably burst into a supernova.

Not long after he was out of sight I got up to follow, chugging the rest of the warm beer and discarding the bottle beside me. I made sure to take my time as I rounded the house and made my way up the steps to the building’s doors. Tucking back a few stray hairs and readjusting my dress shirt, undoing another button. The heat truly is getting to me tonight.

The steps up to the second floor creaked under my weight, echoing in the otherwise quiet house.

His door was slightly ajar. The lantern and moonlight illuminating the space within just enough.

I knocked not even waiting for a reply before I walked in. His back was turned, shoulders tensed as he looked out of the shattered window. The slight breeze it let in a welcoming one.

Opening my mouth to break the silence I was quickly hushed when he turned, taking two steps before he was above me, my back hitting the closed door with a resounding thud.

His laboured breaths fanning across my face as his hands came to rest on the door at either side of my head, caging me in. His eyes engulfed in lust and rage.

“You think ya bein’ funny, princess?” he growled. The deep vibrations in his voice sending a spark down my spine.

I kept my eyes locked on his, presenting an innocent smile “I’m afraid I don't know what you are talking about.”

“Ya know very well. After the day I’ve had I don’t have the patience for your teasing.”

I smiled up at him again. I’ve won the race, but not the challenge.

His hand moved to the base of my neck, thumb tracing over my throat with a slight pressure that couldn’t be ignored.

“Mr Morgan…” I tilted my hips out to meet his. His desire evident, “...would I ever?”

His hands were on me in a flash, pulling me towards the table beside us. The boxes of ammunition swept to the floor in one movement before he was lifting me onto the surface, hands pulling my skirt till it was bunched up at my waist. He stood there between my open legs, palms burning into the supple flesh of my thighs as they travelled higher and higher. Eyes now fixed on the exposed skin below my clavicles.

“Do ya have any idea what ya do to me?” His eyes moved to my neck, then my lips, before locking with my own. Our heightened breaths the only noise filling the space around us.

That spark travelling down my spine now back with a vengeance, landing straight to my core with a jolt.

I breathed deeply to steady my voice.

Hand racing out for his belt to pull him forwards to feel just what he might be talking about. I wanted - needed - all of him.

“Why don’t you show me?” I whispered, then his mouth was on my neck, biting, sucking, soothing. Leaving his mark. My head tilting back as a quiet moan escaped me.

His hands travelling further up my thighs as my hands hastily began to unbuckle his belt, the both of us unable to waste any more time.

Indeed I have won the challenge.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x fem #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 smut

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earnestly-endlessly · 3 years ago

Note

Hiii could you rec any fics where Erik or Charles or both are vampires and or werewolves?

Thank you so much dear lots of love

I'm so sorry for being so late with this, but in compensation I do have tons of fics that should quench your thirst for some vampire/werewolf cherik. Enjoy!

Vampire

And the Gunslinger Followed – musical_emjay

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr hunts the things that go bump in the night.

He’s done so since he was a child, since the first time his mother put a knife in his hand and told him how to use it, told him why he should.

But ten years alone on the road has caught up to him, left him wrung out and longing for a place to rest, recharge, get his head back on straight. Though nowhere has ever truly felt like home, he heads straight for New York City, a place that’s always had more to offer him by way of warmth and comfort than any other. What he finds when he gets there, however, is several miles south of anything approaching restful. Old acquaintances, old memories, and a mysterious stranger who has him forgetting all his rules — Erik soon realizes there are decisions he needs to make, before circumstances intervene and make them for him. Otherwise, he might not like the result.

An Accident of Circumstance – manic_intent

Summary: Secret Santa, for azryal00, prompts: virginity, stalking or vampire AU. Decided to attempt all, in one fic. As part of a reward for his successes in border skirmishes, Sebastian Shaw allows Erik discretion to create a childe of his own, within reason. Erik rebels.

B-Negative – manic_intent

Summary: Written for the 5 Acts thing on livejournal, for toestastegood's 'Vampire AU' Act. This was originally going to be some sort of True Blood parody, but it somehow became a bit more serious. :/

Bloodbound – ikeracity

Summary: Finding himself strapped for cash at the start of his senior year, Erik decides to become a donor at TypO, a blood bar where vampires come to drink fresh blood from consenting donors, safely and legally. There, he catches the eye of Charles Xavier, vampire, telepath, professor at Columbia, and quite possibly the most alluring person Erik's ever met. Their first meeting sets into motion a bond much deeper than they can understand, one that neither of them had ever expected.

Old Metal (Blood, Memory and Rubber Ducks) – pprfaith

Summary: Erik is a vampire. Sookie, err, Charles is a telepath. Any questions?

Food Allergies – madneto

Summary: A bout of insomnia one fateful night leads Erik to Xavier's, the late night bookstore near Columbia University, whose owner Erik quickly decides is the best thing since... well, since maybe ever. Charles is brilliant, funny, passionate, handsome, and every other good adjective Erik can think of, and even though they've only been on three dates, Erik is convinced this is the start of something perfect.

Then Charles has a bad reaction to the food Erik cooks for them on their fourth date, leaving Erik to wonder if maybe he's completely botched his one chance at true love.

Series

The Price for Eternity – madneto

Summary: Erik and Charles are relaxing in the park when Erik decides to ask Charles a question that has long been on his mind, re: vampires. The answer is unexpected.

Series

The Boy with the Sigil Tattoo – keire_ke

Summary: Buffy AU. The story of a boy and his vampire.

Love and Other Secrets – Microsaur

Summary: Erik is a vampire that would much rather be left alone, Charles is a baronet that can't seem to accept that.

The First One – SassyDuckQueen

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a vampire living in a peaceful life in New York City, where he works as a night time security guard at the Pentagram. He's in a relationship with Charles Xavier, a young professor at a private university. However, his life is thrown upside down by the return of his wayward son, Peter, who informs him that an old enemy has resurfaced.

Series

Blood Bound – WaxRhapsodic

Summary: Charles is sick. Again. He decides to do something drastic about it and take a Blood Contract with a Vampire who turns out to be dangerously attractive.

Night Holds No Redemption – isabella

Summary: Vampire Hunters AU

When vampires roam the city at night there are also those who will hunt them down.

Charles Xavier and James “Logan” Howlett are vampire hunters part of the NIB – Night Investigation Bureau, in New York. When Erik, a vampire Charles failed to kill, comes back to haunt him Charles finds he no longer can run from his past and has to face the truth about the monster he created.

Pairing info: Flashbacks are Charles/Erik, present focuses first on the growing relationship between Logan/Charles, then on Charles/Erik.

Endgame will be Charles/Erik.

Night Life – Ook

Summary: he young journalist, or researcher, or whatever he is, is going to get himself in trouble around here. Erik can tell.

A researcher who doesn't know when to stop.

A man who doesn't take no for an answer.

A vampire that doesn't give interviews.

Werewolf

Dancing in the Rain – Pangea, velvetcadence

Summary: Werewolf alpha Erik found a human pup Charles alone in the forest and took him back to his lair. Erik protected and cared for the boy, though he was barely a mature wolf himself.

A few years passed, Charles grew up so pretty, and Erik was afraid he would miss his kind and go back to them, leaving Erik to be alone again - but Charles stayed and chose to be Erik’s mate.

Moon Song – ikeracity

Summary: Werewolf AU. When Charles is captured by hunters, Erik and his pack go after him. It turns out there might be some room for redemption left for both of them after all.

Loyalty and Obedience – Ook

Summary: A human rent boy working the streets gets rescued from a pimp by the Lehnsherr Pack Head and his Second on a recruitment trip. Werewolves, huh?

Who knows where this one's going?

Skin Deep – manic_intent

Summary: Written for the kmeme, Everyone-is-a-werewolf AU. Erik happens upon a seemingly abandoned mansion in Westchester during a full moon and finds an insanely clueless werewolf living in isolation.

In Escrow – manic_intent

Summary: Same 'verse as Skin Deep, between the final part and the epilogue. Charles abruptly realizes that he's unable to shift forms after a full moon. Which can only mean one thing.

Supernatural and the Scientist – Caradee

Summary: Charles Xavier is a upcoming geneticist and wildlife biologist who’s next big thesis reveals a little to much about the hidden werewolf community. Now Erik Lehnsehrr is suppose to figure out who it is feeding Xavier the information and put an end to it.

However, things are not what they appear.

Open Season – Caradee

Summary: Charles is a adorable omega wolf who has no sense for pack dynamics and wanders on his own. Erik is the exhausted Alpha of the pack who is unfortunately smitten with him. Its hunting season, nothing can go wrong. Right?

Only Hope – onaxe

Summary: According to werewolf law, an unwed Omega cannot legally hold custody of a child. When Charles is challenged for custody over his 17 year old sister, Raven, he desperately turns to the only solution available. He marries a complete stranger, Alpha Erik Lehnsherr, who is haunted by a mysterious past.

Note: Unfinished but a fun read.

Tooth and Nail – TurtleTotem

Summary: Erik is no longer part of Charles's pack. It's none of his business who he takes as a mate.

Vampires and Werewolves

For you, Eternity – gerec, lachatblanche

Summary: Erik still remembers the day he lost everything to a pack of werewolves; his family, his village, and the love of his life. Left with nothing but regret and pain everlasting, he turns to Sebastian Shaw - who promises revenge in exchange for loyalty eternal.

For centuries, he leads his clan of vampires in a war against their hated enemy, the same werewolf pack responsible for the slaughter of Erik’s village. But now Logan - the pack’s new leader - wants to make peace with their age old adversaries; an act that neither side particularly cares to pursue.

Adding to this volatile mix is one Charles Xavier, scientist and academic, drawn to the continent by his fascination for the supernatural and the locals’ tales of love, betrayal and never-ending war…

On the Scent – dedkake

Summary: The full moon is nearing and Charles decides to visit his neighbor.

Does not ebb – StarkMad

Summary: prompt: "...I would love a fic with Charles and Erik in an Underworld AU basically with Charles as Selene's character and Erik as Michael Corvin's character

and/ooor nonnie could do an Underworld: Rise of the Lycans and Charles as Sonja's character and Erik as Lucian (feel free and make me cry, dearest nonnie) feel free to do whatever you want as long as the AU still remains identifiable (and just kill me with tons of Chares and Erik drama and lurve and heartache and whatever.

Dear Neighbour Mine – issabella

Summary: Fill for the prompt by Lonelyparts: Charles is a telepathic werewolf living next door to a vampire who favours severe black turtlenecks and metal coffins.

Of course they have to annoy each other first, before dangerous circumstances bring them together.

#cherik #cherik fic recs #fic recs #werewolf AU #vampire art #there are surprisingly more vampire fics out there than werewolf fics #thought it would be the other way round #asks #earnestly answers

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ladyeliot · 4 years ago

Photo

Stay with me

Prequel to It will always be you.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: Because of the consequences of your actions, 117 nations come together to create the Sokovia Accords. Now a decision hangs over you, whether to sign them or not, whatever you do will have repercussions.

Warnings: Angst.

Word count: 3702

A/N: Civil War. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader Powers: Psionic. You use psionic force to track any sentient being. You also create psychic shields to protect yourself. You can project psychic force bolts which have no physical effects but which can affect a victim's mind, causing them pain.

The evidence was clear, the position you were currently in had come about because of some very poor performance on your part, the news had echoed the catastrophes you had caused, especially the attack on Lagos, the governments had lined up to stop it and come to a common agreement to keep you under their command. Deep down you all knew that day would come, though you were confident it would be further away. It had been almost four years since Tony Stark had rescued you from your past, from being a contraption held in a laboratory for research. You had been offered a future where you no longer had to run or hide, you had been offered freedom, a purpose in life, but that bundle of paperwork in front of your eyes was meant to make you a prisoner of the government once again.

The discussion had been getting louder and louder, the different opinions countering each other were causing the nerves to come to the fore, alternating the atmosphere. Although the resolution was clear, there was nothing to be done, you were either with them or against them, becoming a fugitive wanted by the whole world. The Sokovia Accords were established by the United Nations and ratified by 117 nations, and what they proposed was to regulate the activities of the altered individuals, namely that the Avengers would cease to be a private organisation, and from now on would operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, and only when and if that panel deemed it necessary.

There was no turning back, the consequences had been placed before you for the acts you had committed, it was a one way street, not a return. Secretary Ross had been in charge of presenting you with the whole set of papers that would have to be signed by you, but convincing you all to agree was not going to be so easy.

“So let's say we agree to this thing,” Sam said, unresponsive to the situation. “How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

“A 117 countries want to sign this,” Rhodes reminded him. “117, Sam, and you're just like, ‘No, that's cool. We got it.’”

Unlike them, you chose to keep a few metres away from the meeting table, remain silent and meditate with yourself on the proposal, not that you didn't know the pros and cons or the consequences of not signing the agreements, but that you wanted to analyse the situation from different points of view without the others questioning your opinions.

"Tony. You are being uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal," Natasha said, turning her gaze to Tony.

“It's because he's already made up his mind,” Steve's tone seemed harsher than usual.

“Boy, you know me so well,” Tony countered sarcastically, then turned his gaze and gestured in your direction. "She does seem to have made up her mind what her decision is."

You felt the gaze of everyone present focus on you, who unlike him preferred to be absorbed in the shadows, hiding from the attention of your companions. But in the end, perhaps his words were true and you had made a decision, a decision that you were not going to allow anyone to choose for you.

"I guess it's not as simple as you're trying to make us believe Tony," your tone was calm and affable, knowing that you were about to receive a sarcastic and ironic counterattack from him.

"Simple?" he gets up from the sofa raising his hands, walking towards the kitchen area, where you were sitting on a stool. "You think it's simple for me?" he pulls a mobile device out of his pocket and sets it down right in front of you on the top, the device projecting an image of a smiling young man. "Oh, that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. Had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk. See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia."

You look down, you understand perfectly what he means, you remember what happened in Sokovia, you remember because you were there, you saw with your own eyes what happened and also the consequences of your actions. But you knew that any decision had consequences and they could have been much worse if you had not acted, although there were also causes for your own fault.

"He wanted to make a difference, I suppose," Tony continued, looking directly at you, his tone rising and stiffening. "I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass."

After his last word, silence filled the room, everyone in the room was reliving the ghosts of the past. Tony definitely realising that you weren't going to look up to return his gaze decided to head back into the room with the others.

"There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes..."

You felt his voice trailing off, then Steve seemed to come in to debate various points, but you could barely focus on what each of them was saying. An internal struggle was going on inside you, and you couldn't wait to see who was going to win.

"I have to go."

You looked up after hearing those words spoken by Steve, his body rose energetically, dropping the agreements from his hand. That was the beginning of all the consequences that were to come after we had made the decision not to sign.

Your steps were decisive, you walked through those long corridors that had become your home for the last few years, knowing that you would most likely never see them again, or at least not for an indefinite period of time. You truly believed you had made a decision, a decision that could become the decision of a lifetime, a before and after in the life process you had created for yourself. You believed that you knew the consequences, that you would be willing to face them as they came. You knew there were going to be setbacks, obstacles, but you didn't expect one as big as him to stand in your way.

"So you've made your decision?" the figure of Tony stood in the doorway of your room, a serious look on his face seeming to immobilise you. "Are you going to leave with Steve?

"I think it's for the best," your words were blunt, as you packed your most essential belongings into a rucksack.

His body entered your room just before the door closed behind him. You knew Tony well enough to know that his next words to you were likely to make an impression on you, but your mind was made up.

"Did you hear anything I just said in the living room?" he pursed his lips and ran his fingers nervously over them.

"Don't make this difficult for me," those words left your lips almost as a plea.

You barely looked at him, your back was turned to him and your eyes were focused on the inside of that backpack that seemed to have no end.

"I suppose you know that your decision is a single ticket," his words were firm. "That you're basically signing your own fucking sentence."

"No," you dropped the backpack and turned to him to find yourself face to face. "That's exactly what I'm running from," you sighed. "I think you of all people know that I know what it's like to be someone's property, that I've been for far too long and that's what really scares me," your pupils dilated as you remembered every single moment you'd lived hidden from the world, being an experiment. "I don't need guys in ties fighting for their own interests telling me what to do or where to go, because my freedom ends when they command me," the seriousness on Tony's face had relaxed, he kept his gaze on his feet and nodded. "I want you to know that I'm going with Steve because you had already made your decision."

The tension spread slightly around you, so much was hidden in those words, much more than what was shown. The complexity of the situation went far beyond signing or not signing the agreements, it was the break-up of a group, of friends, of family, something that could never be put back together again.

"I... I don't know if I'm going to be able to protect you," Tony clenched his jaw as he denied to himself, resting his brown eyes on yours again.

"I never asked you to."

You knew perfectly well how much your words must have hurt him, and what he meant when he said he couldn't protect you. There were so many hidden things in the air, but this was not the right time to start that conversation, maybe it was too late, nothing was going to change things so you asked yourself to please not make things more complicated. You turned around and nimbly zipped up your backpack, everything you had of great sentimental value was inside.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, hanging the backpack over your right shoulder and looking up at him.

"You're not sorry," his tone became serious, but at the same time indifferent, he was hurt. His gaze turned away from yours.

"This isn't what I wanted to happen," you whispered hoping that wasn't the last image you would see of him before you left.

"So, all you have to do was stay," those were the words that almost caused something inside you to stir, but you only gave a small, wistful smile as you looked at his face.

"You know I can't," you whispered hoping he wouldn't extract his share of indifference towards you again. "Please don't make it more complicated for me, because I can't deal with you right now.”

It was impossible to explain to you at that moment the dilemma that was building up inside you. On the one hand your ethics and your values were what prevented you from signing those damn papers that limited and curtailed your freedoms, it was something you assumed. On the other hand, how could it be so hard to leave Tony, why, what was going on right now that you couldn't face?

"Maybe you should just leave now," Tony slipped his hands into his Tom Ford trouser pockets and focused his gaze on the door to your room.

You nodded slowly, your brow furrowed and your lips parted as you didn't expect those words at all, you were ready to start an internal struggle, but he had already sentenced the conversation.

"Alright," you muttered, taking a step backwards, away from him. "Bye Tony."

As you got closer to that door a lump settled tighter in your throat, like a dramatic movie you expected him to say something to stop you at any moment, but he didn't. The door opened and allowed you to leave. The corridors seemed miles long, perhaps because time was slowing down. A black car could be seen from the wide glass windows, there were Steve and Sam waiting for you. A guilty smile appeared on your face as you walked back through the hall, bidding farewell to those present.

As you stepped outside, the air seemed to open up your lungs again, which had been stuck after the last goodbye you had said to Tony. Sam was inside the car, and Steve took care of getting your rucksack into the boot, along with his shield and Sam's wings.

"Are you all right?" muttered Steve, to which your response was a gentle nod.

As you rested your hand on the handle to open the car door, you couldn't help but direct your gaze towards the top of the building, right where you had left Tony a few minutes ago. But there was definitely no sign coming from that spot to stop you from continuing on your way.

The next few days the situation became more complex than anyone here would have expected. Agent Carter's funeral passed without incident, Natasha appeared to inform you that she was leaving for Vienna to sign the agreements, that there was still a chance for you to change your minds, but none of you did. Perhaps it was for the best, because during the signing an attack happened on the spot, an attack that changed the course of things. All eyes were on the Winter Soldier, Bucky, that directed Steve, Sam and you to Bucharest in a supposed attempt to get to Bucky before the authorities did.

"They're on the roof," Sam reported over the intercom.

"Steve get out of there right now," you said hiding on the roof of the building next door. "I can sense you but I can't surround your body with psychic energy unless you come out into the open."

That day was one of the worst failures you had ever managed to pull off, perhaps it was obvious that things didn't go quite right when feelings ran high, and it showed in Steve, especially when law enforcement trapped you in that tunnel.

"Stand down, now," War machine appeared before you to end the fatal chase and set you on your way to Berlin.

You knew what would follow, there was only one way out or the consequences would be far more extreme, either sign the agreements or become prisoners of the law. Things were different for you, Captain could have his shield removed, Sam could have his wings removed and T'Challa, who had appeared in pursuit out of nowhere could have his suit removed too, but you and Bucky were far more dangerous, especially as your powers and dangers were in the mind.

When you arrived at the facility in that armoured truck Bucky was put in an extreme protection capsule, that marked memory making you remember the past time.

"What's going to happen to him?" asked Steve walking beside you in the direction of Everett Ross, Deputy Commander of the Joint Forces.

"The same as you. Psychological evaluation and extradition," he focused his gaze on you. "Miss Y/L/N, let's hope you'll be cooperative."

You understood his words, you knew the fear you could cause, force could be controlled, the mind was much more complicated.

"Of course," you affirmed with all your good intentions.

You didn't know where, but you assumed that in a few minutes you were going to meet him again in some remote part of that building, you could feel it. First it was Natasha who approached you, and then when you stepped inside the control room there was Tony, talking on the phone.

"[...] consequences?" he turned his body towards you, his gaze fixed on you, which made you cross your arms and look around, avoiding her. "Of course there will be consequences."

"Consequences?" asked Steve with a serious look on his face.

"Secretary Ross wants to prosecute the three of you. I had to give something."

You walked away from them, realising that you had two armed men following your every step around that room. You watched the monitors, every corner of the planet seemed to be controlled by them, there was nothing they could miss, you could even see yourself reflected in one of them.

"Is it worth it?" you turned your face to find yourself face to face with the one who had made you doubt your decision a few days ago.

He took his right hand out of one of his trouser pockets and made a slight gesture for the two security officers who had been assigned to you to move a little away from you, offering you some privacy.

"What do you mean?" you cocked your head to one side. Your voice was stiff, you were tense enough about the situation to offer him a friendly tone.

"I don't know, was it worth risking everything to find yourself back here with possible legal charges?" you didn't deny it, Tony's words hurt.

"Are you rejoicing?" you squinted, uncrossing your arms and turning your whole body towards him.

"How do you think this will all end?" he ran his index finger down the side of his mouth, his nervousness showing. Those words made you shudder. "Now you have a chance, don't let it slip away."

"Please, don't make this worse than it already is," your pleas were in vain. The last thing you wanted right now was a lecture from Tony.

"This wouldn't even abe problem, if you wouldn't make one out of it!" his voice was authoritative.

Your refusals and hesitations had gotten on his nerves, it was evident in the way he was addressing you. That was the last thing you wanted to do, to cause trouble, but it was clear that you were on the defensive against any verbal attack Tony might offer you. Sparks could almost fly between your gazes, which were still on after the conversation was over. You had no idea what was going to happen next, so you were grateful that Natasha caught Tony's attention at that moment, breaking into a battle that wasn't going anywhere.

The hours passed really slowly, so you found a space in a glassed-in conference room to settle in, under, of course, the watchful eye of the guards in charge of you, until you were called in for your psychological analysis.

"Do you need anything?" the door closed behind him.

"Are you playing good cop?" you asked watching as he dropped his blazer on a chair and sat down right next to you. "You're not giving up, are you?"

"I'll take every last cartridge," he leaned his elbow on the table and dropped his chin into the palm of his hand. "You know, I was just remembering earlier when we all went to that Italian restaurant in Soho on your birthday, and then we were at the concert by.... Oh, what was the name of the band? "

"What are you trying Tony?" you cocked your head to the side with a small smile on your face.

"I'm trying to... how do you say?" he rested his index finger on your lips. "Signing a peace agreement? Trying to get to your sensitive spot, because you have one, right?"

"I don't know, I guess if you have one I might as well, huh?" you arched an eyebrow, intertwining your fingers on the table, causing him to make a gesture of placing his hands on yours, but he never got to touch them by restraining himself, so you ignored the gesture. "Do you want to sign a peace agreement with me, or do you want me to sign the Sokovia Accords?"

He took a breath and let it out slowly through his nostrils. He was completely frustrated, you knew it, you could feel it, he had rarely been involved in those situations that were out of his control.

"Listen," he paused slightly, bringing his fingers to his chin. "I think it's time that I..." he tore his gaze away from yours, let it wander, searching for his words as he gestured with his right hand. "I've tried many times, to do this but.... God, this really is the worst time to do it." He looked around nervously and then crossed his arms, but quickly pulled them apart. "Whatever. We're... well, I... it's likely that I, maybe, can feel..."

You would remember that moment all your life, especially since you wouldn't know until many years later what he meant to say to you. At that moment the lights went out, the monitors stopped working and everything was dark around you, only red flickering lights would have made their way into your darkness. Your head swivelled around you in search of whatever it was that was going on, Tony got up from his seat and placed his glasses over his eyes.

"Friday, give me the source of the blackout," he said to himself.

Finally your eyes focused on Steve and Sam, who were standing next to Sharon in the next room. You listened as Sharon informed them of Bucky's location, and a last glance towards you informed you that they were going to head that way, but just as you were about to leave that meeting room a hand came down hard around your arm.

"Stay with me," the trembling words that came from his lips seemed to shake your insides.

"I can't," you mumbled through your teeth almost with all the pain in your heart.

His fingers loosened, allowing you to leave the room as quickly as possible, but you took one last second to contemplate his face and how many feelings were hidden in it. You knew you only had one chance, everyone present was distracted enough to find the reason for the blackout, you had only a few seconds to get out of the room without being seen, and a couple of minutes before they noticed, so you didn't take long to do it.

A new decision piled up on your list, always facing the consequences you had acquired, and fighting against the feelings your heart presented to you. It wasn't easy, you hadn't given it much thought either, but what you did know was that you didn't regret having done it, at least so far.

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melanielocke · 3 years ago

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Conceal, don't Feel - Five

In Summer

Previous Chapter: Let it Go

Next Chapter: No escape from the Storm Inside of me (to be posted)

Taglist: @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised @alastair-appreciation-month @writeordie-4 @amchara @ddepressedbookworm

Kamala had not brought any winter clothes for her travel to Arendelle. Although her father had wished for her to stay longer so she could get the Prince to court her, she had only packed for late summer. She had not expected to be caught in a winter storm in early September. As it was, she was huddled under a blanket and forced to listen to Catherine Townsend’s theories on the Prince’s magic. They were all ridiculous, and sitting here, she felt useless.

Charles Fairchild had taken over the kingdom for now, and her father was everywhere around him to “help”, which Kamala understood as him trying to get as much out of this as he could. Her father had always been opportunistic, and Kamala suspected he intended to exploit Arendelle’s riches once she was married to the King. Although now that the King was revealed to be a sorcerer, Kamala wasn’t so sure her father still wanted her to marry him.

Not that it mattered what her father wanted, the marriage wasn’t happening. King Alastair had been very clear about his disinterest in marriage, and Kamala couldn’t blame him. She wasn’t exactly interested in getting married herself either, but as it was she had few other options. She’d accepted she would marry someday, and hoped for a husband she could be friends with. Alastair could have been such a man, but she accepted that he had chosen not to marry, even if she was a bit jealous that he was allowed to make that choice. If she didn’t marry soon, she was certain her father would pick someone for her, someone he thought fit to inherit his title once he died.

Kamala felt useless. She had never quite fit in among other noble girls like Catherine and Rosamund. She hadn’t grown up in a castle, she had been adopted by the Duke when she was twelve. Although that had been ten years ago, she still didn’t feel like she was truly the daughter of a Duke. Then again, why should it matter?

In the end Kamala found her way into the kitchen, wandering through the palace in an attempt to stay warm through exercise. The cooks were busy, making soup and Kamala didn’t know what else.

‘Are you lost, miss?’ one of the people in the kitchen asked.

It was a woman about her age, short and angular, with dusty hair she wore in a simple bun.

‘I’m sorry, is there anything I could do to help?’ she asked. ‘I’m feeling a bit useless, just sitting around. I am a pretty good cook.’

The woman gestured at her to come in. ‘Before she left, Princess Cordelia gave the order to feed the people, keep them warm, but the cooks here are used to only feeding the royal family and this isn’t working. My mother’s a baker so I volunteered to help. Everyone’s hungry and needs something warm in their belly, but we can’t manage. But should a lady such as yourself be down here taking care of the ordinary people?’

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ Kamala said. ‘I hope you have spices here. I remember some recipes from my birth mother, those should warm any person right up.’

‘Sounds good,’ the woman said. ‘Eugenia Lightwood. And you are miss Ariadne Bridgestock, right?’

‘Call me Kamala,’ she said with a small smile.

Among the nobles she would have to be miss Ariadne Bridgestock, the name her father had given her when he’d adopted her, but she’d had a name before that. Among cooks and ordinary citizens, she could be Kamala. It had been a while since she’d been able to use that name.

She was in luck. While the kitchen in Weselton barely used spices and didn’t stock them, the kitchens here had everything she might need to cook something spicy to keep the people warm.

‘The Queen never liked traditional Arendellian food,’ one of the cooks said. ‘So we learnt some of the recipes from her home country. That’s what we need all this for.’

‘I can’t say I’m familiar with what you’re making,’ Eugenia said. ‘But if you need help with anything, just let me know, my soup is almost done. It smells delicious, by the way.’

‘Thank you,’ Kamala said. ‘Your soup does too. You said your mother was a baker, is she here too?’

‘She made the cake for the coronation, but mama is currently at home baking and delivering the bread,’ Eugenia said. ‘I can’t believe what happened, and my little brother is out there somewhere. I can only hope he’s with my cousin, she owns a trading post in the woods, and a sauna.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Kamala said. ‘That must be terrifying.’

‘Tom knows how to survive the mountains,’ Eugenia said. ‘At least my sister is here in the palace. She’s a midwife, and she’s been asked to take care of the Queen. And my father is around here, he’s on the council but right now he’d distributing cloaks and firewood.’

‘That’s nice of them,’ Kamala said.

Eugenia shrugged. ‘We all do what we can. Not the visiting nobles though, they expect us to do all the hard work while they sit in the warmest room. Except you.’

‘I imagine most don’t have the skills to help,’ Kamala said. ‘Manners won’t get us anywhere. Although how hard can it be to distribute soup or cloaks?’

Eugenia laughed. It was a sweet, infectious laugh, and Kamala started laughing too. ‘An impossible job, how will they survive when they don’t have us?’ Eugenia said.

***

‘Welcome to wandering Anna’s trading post,’ Lucie said. ‘She’s my cousin. And she has a sauna.’

‘No time for that,’ Cordelia protested, but Lucie dragged her inside.

‘You need to get warm,’ Lucie said. ‘You’re no help to anyone if you freeze to death, and my healing isn’t good enough to save you. Anna will let us use the sauna.’

Cordelia admitted Lucie had a point and followed her inside. The hut was small, and along the walls were all sorts of different goods. Cordelia’s eyes fell on the winter department, which left just two warm dresses. She thanked whoever was responsible that one of them looked large enough to fit her. As a princess, she was lucky all her dresses were custom made otherwise it would be a struggle to find anything that fit.

Behind the counter was a woman. Well, Cordelia thought she was a woman, but her hair was cut short and she was dressed in men’s trousers and a blouse, a thick wool gentlemen’s coat draped around her. This must be Anna.

‘Lucie, look at you,’ Anna said. ‘All covered in snow. What happened?’

‘Has anyone else passed here, by chance? My brother perhaps?’ Cordelia asked.

Anna laughed. ‘Only ones crazy enough to be out in this storm is the two of you. Which is exactly what I expected from you, Lucie.’

‘Don’t be rude, Anna,’ Lucie scolded. ‘You are addressing the Princess.’

‘I don’t mind,’ Cordelia said, looking around the hut. ‘What do you sell here?’

‘Oh, a bit of everything,’ Anna said. ‘My little brother is an inventor. You want to try his sunscreen? Never underestimate your ability to get sunburned while out in the snow all day.’

‘Uh, sure,’ Cordelia said. ‘You don’t happen to have boots? Winter boots, and dresses? Please tell me that wool dress in the corner is in my size.’

‘You definitely need something new,’ Anna said. ‘That dress is not going to take you anywhere. Don’t worry, if we let it dry you can hopefully wear it again. I might not look like it, but I do know dresses.’

‘Despite never wearing them,’ Lucie said.

‘I simply appreciate a pretty woman in a dress,’ Anna said.

‘Doesn’t everyone?’ Lucie said, looking at Cordelia. ‘Even when said dress is frozen at the bottom.’

‘This is getting too cold,’ Cordelia said. ‘I’m going to have to take off this dress.’

‘And we want to use the sauna,’ Lucie added.

‘For you anything, Lu,’ Anna said. ‘But I have to eat too, so I will be sending a bill to the palace. I’m sure the Princess can afford anything I have here.’

‘Of course, that won’t be a problem,’ Cordelia said. ‘I don’t know how long it’ll take in this storm, but my mother will see it done.’

‘Do you know your measurements?’ Anna asked. ‘Those dresses are some of the last I have, but there are a couple more in the back in large sizes. They don’t sell as often, so they remain behind. I’m sure I can find something that fits you. Lucie, the smaller one should be in your size.’

Cordelia was measured regularly when she needed new gowns, often the only moment of social interaction with someone outside the palace, so she did remember her measurements and told Anna.

She took off her clothes, thankful she could take off this dress on her own. Not all gowns made that possible, but Cordelia had learnt to put on her own corset and take it off, which she thought was the hardest part.

It felt good to take off what her dress had turned into. Anna promised she’d take good care of it, but Cordelia wasn’t so sure her gown could be saved. Not that she needed it, she had plenty of dresses back home. Still, few made her look as good as that dress and she’d loved to wear it more often.

‘Where do you think Alastair is?’ Cordelia asked.

She was used to the sauna, to the sudden change in temperature. They had one in the palace as they were very popular in Arendelle. Alastair had never used it, he claimed it gave him a headache. That usually happened when people stayed in there for too long or didn’t cool off properly, but perhaps the heat didn’t suit him, considering the ice.

Cordelia took quick shower when she was done with the sauna, dried off and changed into the dress Anna had picked out for her. It was a different one than she’d seen in front, a little bigger she guessed. It fit well, leaving a little bit of a room around the waist but not so much that it looked weird. She wore several layers of petticoats under the wool skirt, and a wool coat over it all.

‘That’s better, isn’t it?’ Anna said. ‘The color suits you, green goes well with red hair. Your gown does too, it would be such a shame if it was ruined. I’ll take good care of it, I promise.’

The door opened, and Cordelia was greeted by a cold wind. It wasn’t as bad as before. The dress was nice and warm and she felt the icy wind scrape her cheeks but her body was kept warm.

‘What idiots are out in this storm?’ Anna groaned, taking in the two men who had entered her store. ‘Wait, those are my idiots.’

Cordelia recognized one of them, the very tall man with the reindeer who had accompanied Lucie on her way to the palace. Her cousin, Thomas was it? Both men were covered in snow from head to toe and tried to wipe off as much as they could before entering the shop and thankfully closing the door behind them.

‘Tom, Kit!’ Lucie yelled. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. Listen, I’m going to need your help.’

‘Slow down, Lu,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m here to get some equipment.’

Thomas grabbed some climbing equipment from the winter department and a bag of carrots and put them on the counter along with some coins.

‘That won’t do, Tom,’ Anna said. ‘The climbing gear is from the winter department, and I’m having a bit of a supply and demand problem right now. So, forty kroner for everything.’

‘Come on, Anna, help me out,’ Thomas said. ‘You know I don’t have that kind of money. You think you have a supply and demand problem? Your parents and I sell ice for a living.’

‘And they are provided with everything they need to survive this storm,’ Anna said. ‘However, I cannot give away all these goods for free. I’m not exactly overflowing with kroner here, and this is in high demand.’

‘I’m your cousin!’ Thomas protested.

‘And I’m your brother,’ the other man added.

Anna stuck out her tongue at the smaller man. ‘For you it’s sixty kroner, Kit.’

‘Sven is hungry and I can’t get to the north mountain without this equipment,’ Thomas argued.

That peaked her interest. ‘You’re heading to the north mountain?’ Cordelia asked.

‘Yes. I think that’s where this storm’s coming from, and that must be the best place to stop it,’ Thomas said.

‘Alright. Take me with you, and I’ll pay for the equipment,’ Cordelia said.

Thomas took her in. ‘Don’t you think that’s too dangerous? The north mountain isn’t an easy mountain to climb for the unexperienced, and I don’t want anything to happen to you or Lucie. Christopher isn’t coming either.’

The smaller boy with glasses looked up. Now that Cordelia took him in, he wasn’t short at all, he was just shorter than Thomas, who towered over everyone. ‘I’m not?’

‘You’re not an experienced climber either,’ Thomas said. ‘Wouldn’t you rather stay with your sister here? You’d be safe.’

‘If I must,’ Christopher said. ‘Do you need my help, Anna?’

‘For sure. I need you to make some more of that sunscreen you invented for me. It’s going to be in such a high demand when this storm blows over and summer comes back.’

‘Oh, of course,’ Christopher said.

‘Alright, Princess, we leave in the morning,’ Thomas said. ‘From what I’ve seen your brother has to be on that mountain. We’ll find him.’

‘We can’t wait that long. Who knows what could happen to Alastair in that time? We leave now. Right now.’

Thomas sighed. ‘Alright then. Right now it is.’

***

There were many things Grace did not understand. She knew her name, Grace, the one Alastair had given her. She knew she was not quite like him, she wasn’t human. She was a girl made out of snow.

What she didn’t understand was Alastair. His anxiety about Arendelle. How exhilarated he was to be creating, snow and ice, shaping it into something else. Grace understood now that humans like him felt, but she had not experienced this. She hoped it would come with time, she was quite curious about what it was like to be human, to have feelings.

‘Do you think it would be possible to make more people?’ Alastair wondered. ‘What about a cute boy?’

‘I don’t think I care much for “a cute boy”,’ Grace said.

She’d learnt from Alastair that among humans, there was this thing called love, that they cared for one another, and formed close relationships with those they liked a bit better than others. Grace wasn’t so sure she understood the concept.

‘I meant for me,’ Alastair said. ‘I figured it might help me get over Charles. But it’s probably a bad idea, right? Perhaps it’s better not to make more snow people yet and help you settle into your life. Is it nice, living? It must be confusing.’

‘I do not understand your question. But if you seek “a cute boy”, then why not go to a place where such humans can be found? I do not think they come visit here,’ Grace said.

Alastair sighed, avoided her gaze. Grace wondered what that meant. Humans had this thing called body language, but she didn’t know how it worked or how to read the signs on Alastair.

‘We must both stay here, I’m afraid. Other humans do not have ice inside of them. They’re not like me.’

Grace frowned. ‘Then what do they have? Wind? Stone?’

‘Most people don’t have magic at all,’ Alastair explained. ‘And ice is dangerous for people. Only the two of us can live here. For humans without ice in their veins, it’s too cold and they’ll die.’

‘Can you not live in the way other humans live?’ Grace asked. ‘Does the warmth they use to sustain themselves hurt you?’

‘No, that’s not it,’ Alastair said. ‘I cannot take the sauna, but I can live inside human buildings. I may not be made out of snow like you are, but the ice is a big part of me and I cannot control it. It does not matter here that I’m dangerous sometimes, because there’s no one I can hurt. You are suited for the cold, and therefore you are the only one who can keep me company.’

‘I think I’d like to go down to Arendelle and visit humans,’ Grace said. ‘There’s so much I don’t know, so much to learn. They can’t tell, can they, that I’m made out of snow?’

Grace was not sure she understood the concept of liking something, of wanting, but she thought it would be good to be in Arendelle. She did not understand why. She knew humans felt, it was a large part of who they were, but Grace was not so sure she could, not to the extent humans did.

Alastair sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Grace. It’s summer down in Arendelle.’

The phrase summer intrigued her. She was familiar with the four seasons from Alastair’s memories of them. Spring was when flowers began to bloom and the days became longer. Summer was the warmest of them all, and she felt like many humans appreciated the summer. Autumn was when the leaves fell from the trees and turned red, yellow, brown. Winter was like here, ice and snow and cold and dark. Grace didn’t mind it so much, but she was fascinated by the other seasons. What would it be like to visit Arendelle in summer?

‘What does that matter?’ Grace asked.

‘Summer is the warmest part of the year,’ Alastair explained. ‘Down there, it’s far above freezing temperature, and you’re made out of snow. You’d melt into a puddle of water. I think you’d die.’

Grace nodded and looked away from Alastair. She’d have no choice but to stay here then. As much as she longed to see more of the world than Alastair’s ice palace, it was not possible and it wasn’t worth dying for.

‘I do not think you should make more of us,’ Grace said. ‘Not even “a cute boy” to keep you company. I think it would be cruel, to make people when you cannot offer them anything but this palace, when they would be trapped here forever.’

Alastair sighed before sitting down in one of the armchairs. ‘You’re right, Grace. That would be cruel. I hope you don’t resent me too much for putting you in this world. I never knew that would happen.’

Grace wasn’t sure she understood what resentment meant. It was illogical to assign blame for her situation, was it not? Things were the way they were, blaming or resenting Alastair was not going to improve anything. He had not known what he was doing. All he could do was not make the same mistake now that he knew.

***

Thomas wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to go take the Princess to the north mountain in the middle of the night. She carried a sword, and would defend herself, yes, but handling a sword and climbing a mountain were not remotely the same skill. Still, someone needed to go up there and calm Alastair, and despite everything, Thomas had only known him for two weeks. He didn’t think he knew the King well enough to help him stop this winter. Cordelia was his sister on the other hand, she’d known him all his life. And Lucie had powers of her own, although she nor Tessa had been able to break the spell of the winter. If they wanted to save Arendelle, Thomas guessed he had no other choice than to make sure Cordelia made it up that mountain safely.

‘What happened there?’ Thomas asked when he’d settled on a steady pace, Sven pulling the sled with the three of them through the snow.

‘It’s my fault,’ the Princess said with a sigh. ‘I never knew what was wrong with him, or why he always shut me out. I was lonely, and frustrated with his behavior. Then at the coronation I met Lucie and I thought it would be nice if she stayed at the palace so I would have some company. So I asked him, and he said no, which I thought was pretty unreasonable. So I got mad, and then he got mad, and then he froze Arendelle.’

Thomas wasn’t sure how to respond. He understood Alastair’s fear, but he also felt Alastair had given in to fear too much and that only made it worse.

‘Ah, I’m sorry,’ Thomas said.

‘It’s not that unreasonable to want some company, right?’ Cordelia asked. ‘I mean, it’s not as if I announced I was marrying someone I just met that day.’

‘That would be weird,’ Thomas agreed, although secretly he thought that if Alastair asked him to get married, he might actually say yes.

Of course, he’d prefer to wait some time and properly court the Prince, but he wouldn’t waste his chance if he got it. How did one even court a prince? Would Alastair appreciate it if Thomas brought him flowers and took him for a ride on his sled? Thomas sighed, why did he still think he’d have a chance with the Prince? It was years ago that they’d met, who knew if Alastair was even the same person he was back then? Thomas had certainly changed, although that was mostly physical. After being small for his age most of his childhood, he’d grown taller than anyone except for his mother could have anticipated.

He’d seen him in the courtyard, for only a moment. Thomas didn’t think Alastair had recognized him, he guessed he had changed. He had wanted to help, but Alastair had been so scared and he’d run. Thomas knew he should have done more.

‘Even for true love I’d give the pair a chance for some nice courtship,’ Lucie agreed. ‘Besides, courtship is one of the most interesting parts of any romance story, it would be boring if they met and immediately decided to get married. Although, it could be a politically arranged marriage, or a marriage out of necessity, where the two main characters slowly fall in love during their marriage.’

‘That doesn’t sound likely,’ Cordelia said.

Lucie shrugged. ‘Perhaps not, but I adore a good fake marriage story. As I told you, I am a writer. Last year I wrote this story about a princess whose father forced her to marry a prince, so she chose one she knew when they were both children, and then they slowly fall in love and defeat the princess’ evil father. Cordelia, would you mind helping me go over any princess stories I’ve written to see how accurate they are?’

‘Of course,’ Cordelia said. ‘I’d love to read your stories.’

Lucie fell asleep in the back of the sled, leaving Cordelia and Thomas sitting in front. She knew she should try to get some sleep herself too, but wasn’t sure she could.

‘Were you really planning to go to the mountain by yourself to stop Alastair?’ Cordelia asked.

‘I was,’ Thomas said. ‘Someone had to.’

Truth to be told, he didn’t have much of a plan. He knew the snow storm could only be caused by Alastair, and he remembered Alastair struggled to keep it under control. It must have been an accident, right? Alastair couldn’t want people to freeze to death in the city. His mother was down there, and it was common knowledge that she was pregnant. He wouldn’t hurt her, would he? Nor his sister.

He hadn’t expected to find Princess Cordelia in Anna’s shop, but he was lucky she’d been there because without the extra equipment, he would not have stood a chance to reach the king.

‘I met him before,’ Thomas said. ‘Did he ever mention that to you?’

‘Alastair would barely talk to me,’ Cordelia said. ‘I think he was scared he’d hurt me, but he did spend most of his time around Charles. How old were you, when you met him?’

‘Fourteen,’ Thomas said. ‘We spend two weeks together. He would sneak out of the palace and meet me after I’d delivered mom’s cakes. He turned fifteen during that time, I brought him cake and we celebrated together. At the end of the two weeks, I… I cared deeply for him. I didn’t know he was a prince, he told me his name was Esfandiyar, and he was very vague about where he was from. I didn’t question it. On the last day your father found us together. He was furious. He threatened me, said he would throw me into the dungeons if he saw me with Alastair again.’

Cordelia’s dark eyes went wide, she looked horrified. ‘No, that can’t be. My father wouldn’t do that.’

Thomas looked at her, curious. Cordelia seemed genuine, and Thomas wondered if King Elias had been kinder to his daughter than he’d been to his son. He still remembered the look of terror on Alastair’s face when he’d seen his father that day. He’d known other children to be afraid when their parents caught them doing something they weren’t supposed to, yes, but it was nothing compared to the fear he’d seen in Alastair eyes. Thomas had assumed the King must not be a nice man, not a kind and loving father like Thomas’ own father was. He’d assumed Alastair must have a difficult homelife, even if he was the Prince. He had told himself there was nothing he could do about it, not when Alastair’s father was the King and suggesting he abused his children might be considered treason. But there were so many things he could have done and Thomas hated himself for never going back.

‘What was he like?’ Thomas asked. ‘Your father, I mean.’

‘He was often sick the last years,’ Cordelia said. ‘Much of what I remember from him is him being sick in his room. He always smelled of the medicine he took and now whenever I smell that, I am reminded of him. He couldn’t spend as much time with me as he wanted. But he was kind, he always liked it when I came sit with him while he was sick and read him stories. He was often busy, of course, so he wasn’t always there, but I know he cared deeply for all of us.’

Thomas wondered what he should say. Perhaps the King had treated Cordelia different from Alastair, but should he be the one to break her image of a kind a loving father? He decided to let the topic rest, it wasn’t his place.

‘Did he really threaten you?’ Cordelia asked a little later, her voice small.

***

Alastair slept in a bed made of ice, covered in a layer of snow to make it all a little softer. He’d made Grace a bedroom of her own, but wasn’t sure she understood what sleep meant.

‘So you just lie down and stay that way?’ she’d asked. ‘For hours?’

‘Well, if you do it right, you fall asleep,’ Alastair had explained. ‘Humans need to sleep to rest. Usually, we spend the day awake and sleep at night, although there are animals that prefer to be awake at night. Like hedgehogs.’

He still had the cape he’d worn on his coronation day, and used it as a blanket. It was strange, how the cold didn’t bother him at all and he slept comfortably on a bed made of snow, but he couldn’t sleep if he didn’t have a blanket to hold on to. He wished he had brought some of his blankets and pillows from the palace.

He woke up in the morning, and it occurred to him there were a couple of issues with living in a palace made out of ice. He and Grace didn’t struggle with ice being slippery, of course, but there were other issues beyond him not having his favorite pillows. First of all, food.

Perhaps he should ask his mother or sister to help him out and leave baskets with food at the base of the mountain. For now, he’d have to make do with what he could find here, and he was fairly certain he’d seen some shrubs with frost berries on his way here.

Alastair had never felt hunger the way other people described it, just intense cravings for something sweet. Perhaps as a sorcerer, he didn’t need food as much as ordinary people did, but the thought of frost berries was a good one. The storm had settled as he made his way outside. Everything he could see was covered in snow, but here on the mountain, the snow was eternal. It was to be expected, he hadn’t caused it. Frost berries were common on the mountains, and a delicacy unique to Arendelle. While most crops would die in the cold, frost berries thrived below freezing point, and were especially popular in summer for their cool, fresh taste. Sweet, but not too sweet, and delicious in ice cream and pies.

Alastair could never get enough of ice cream, of course. He’d eaten so much of it as a child his mother had sometimes joked he’d ended up with ice in his veins because of what he ate. That wasn’t true, he knew he’d been born with the powers. According to his mother, he’d felt a little colder even as she’d held him as a baby, and when he cried it would snow. Back when he was little, it hadn’t been as dangerous, just a small pile of snow, a drop in temperature. Until he’d hit Cordelia in the head.

Alastair often felt everything had changed that day. It was when he’d learnt he wasn’t safe to be around. He still didn’t quite understand how he’d done it with Charles, too in love to care that it might go wrong. Perhaps being in love tempered his ice. Perhaps it just led to him making bad decisions. In the end it had gotten worse around Charles too, and nothing hurt like love turned bitter. Love wasn’t the answer, better to be alone.

Alastair found the bushes with the frost berries a little lower in the mountains, not too far from where he’d built his stairs. He shaped a basket out of ice, and filled it up with the berries before returning to his ice palace. It looked even more beautiful from a distance, he thought. He’d never known he could do such a thing and was exhilarated to finally be free. Even if it meant he’d have to go on a diet of frost berries. It would be fine, he told himself, he loved frost berries. They were his second favorite fruit, after blackberries, and because they only grew in the mountains, they usually weren’t this cheap.

He realized he had no table either when he wanted to put the basket of berries out of the way, but he’d gotten the hang of shaping the furniture out of ice by now. Grace was sitting in an armchair, legs sprawled across the armrest. Perhaps she didn’t know how you were supposed to sit in chair, or perhaps she was just aware that this was the superior way to sit.

‘Would you like some frost berries?’ he asked her.

‘What are frost berries?’

‘They’re a type of fruit. It grows here on the mountain, and there are lots of them. I’m afraid there’s not much else, although I’m not sure you need food.’

Alastair put some of the frost berries in his mouth. They were sweet and cold, a bit like ice popsicles, but in fruit form, which meant they were also healthy. One day he’d find out a way to make his own ice cream, but he imagined he’d need more ingredients, like sugar.

A bit insecure, Grace followed his example and put a berry into her mouth.

‘I’m not sure what fruit, or food is, but this tastes good,’ Grace said. ‘How often do humans need food?’

‘A few times a day,’ Alastair said. ‘Which will be difficult up here since I can’t cook and I have no ingredients except berries. But I’m not hungry exactly, so I imagine I’ll survive on the berries. There’s nothing else to it, I’m afraid.’

‘The snow spreads far,’ Grace said. ‘Perhaps far enough to go down to humans. Do you think I could go visit there?’

Alastair regretted making a girl out of snow. He liked Grace, and was glad for the company, but he didn’t think he’d brought her into a happy life. He’d considered for a moment to try and make more people, but he’d condemn them to a life here on the mountain, with little possibility to move anywhere else. It was cruel, what he’d done to her. Perhaps if he could control himself better he could figure out a way to cover Grace in cold air so she would not melt in the heat, but Alastair didn’t know how.

‘Arendelle is still in summer, Grace,’ Alastair said. ‘It’s September, so it should be getting colder soon. When it’s winter in Arendelle, it should be cold enough for you. We tend to have cold winters with lots of snow down there, and you could go visit. No one would notice you’re not human, I’m sure. But not yet.’

Grace nodded, accepting that answer and shoved another handful of frost berries into her mouth.

***

Cordelia wasn’t sure what to think. She tried to piece together what Thomas had just told her. He’d met Alastair, had been friendly with him. Then her father had threatened him and dragged Alastair away. There was no way, right? It couldn’t be true, her father would never do such a thing. But how well did she know him, really? Most of her memories surrounding her father were him being sick in his bed chambers, Cordelia visiting him and taking care of him while the rest of the family either didn’t have the time or didn’t care to. She’d always assumed Alastair didn’t care, and after seeing his icy outburst she’d assumed he’d been too afraid of hurting Father. Now she didn’t know. She didn’t know anything.

‘I wouldn’t lie about such a thing,’ Thomas said, his gaze averted. ‘I really am sorry, Princess.’

‘It’s just that… it’s not how I remember him, not what I thought he would do.’

‘I understand,’ Thomas said. ‘People can show different sides of themselves to different people. If you say he was kind and caring to you, I believe you. I don’t know him. Perhaps he was only cruel to me so I would stay away, because he believed Alastair would hurt me otherwise.’

Cordelia didn’t know what to believe. Did it matter if someone was always kind to her when he was cruel to someone else, someone who had done nothing to deserve it? She would have to ask Alastair about the incident, and everything else, as it was clear he had experienced a different side from their father. Perhaps her father had loved her more, and had feared she would be hurt, but that was no excuse to be cruel to Alastair, or to Thomas, was it? Alastair was his son too, and being king did not give him the right to be cruel to anyone.

‘It’s not so long ago that I lost him,’ Cordelia said, ‘and now I learn that maybe he wasn’t who I thought he was.’

‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Thomas said. ‘Losing someone is always hard, even worse when you’re not on good terms. Perhaps that’s why Alastair was a bit more on edge lately. He seemed more in control when I met him.’

‘Really?’ Cordelia asked. ‘You knew about his magic?’

‘The first time I saw him, I startled him. He was leaning against a tree, and he froze himself stuck. You should have seen it, how he panicked and tried to pull himself loose from that tree. We spend about two weeks together, it was amazing. We didn’t even have that long, I delivered my mom’s cakes and then took the route through the forest back home with Sven, and that’s where we met, spending as long as we could together before someone would realize we were missing. He didn’t lose control of the ice again after that first time. We had fun, I liked him.’

Thomas stared into the distance as he spoke of Alastair, the morning lights betrayed a blush on his cheeks.

‘You really cared for him, didn’t you?’ Cordelia asked.

‘I did,’ Thomas said. ‘I haven’t spoken with him since, but I thought of him all the time. I wondered, did he ever think of me? Would he want to see me now? So when I realized he lost control and set of a winter, I thought maybe he would remember me, maybe I could calm him. But perhaps it’s all just in my head, I only knew him for two weeks. Perhaps he just forgot about me.’

Cordelia wished she could assure Thomas, but the truth was, she had no idea what Alastair thought or felt. For a long time she’d assumed he did not feel anything at all, but that wasn’t quite true. A while ago, she might have said Alastair could not possibly remember or care for Thomas, but now she had no idea. He had cared for Charles, she imagined, although she didn’t understand why. Had they been lovers, Lucie had asked. It seemed bizarre to even consider, but it was true Alastair had always claimed he would not marry, nor had he shown interest in girls. Cordelia imagined that was because of the ice though, it would be dangerous for him to get close to someone. But then why had it always been different with Charles?

‘Why do you think he was more in control around you?’ Cordelia asked.

‘I’m not sure,’ Thomas said. ‘He said he wasn’t supposed to feel, which always struck me as odd.’

‘He loses control when he gets upset, so maybe the idea was to teach him to not get upset?’ Cordelia asked, but she had to admit it sounded odd.

She was no expert on emotions, but she knew asking someone to not feel was not helpful. Perhaps it even made everything worse. Perhaps Alastair had suppressed all his emotions for years, and now it all had come bursting out in the shape of an eternal winter cast over Arendelle. And perhaps that meant it wasn’t her fault, perhaps what she’d done had only been the last drop.

‘I think he had a bit of an odd idea about what feeling meant,’ Thomas said. ‘I think for him, feeling meant getting upset and losing control. It was easier with me because he claimed he didn’t feel, but I think it was more like being content or happy. I hope he liked spending time with me. Maybe that calmed his emotions and therefore powers.’

Cordelia couldn’t help but wonder if Thomas was right. If Alastair had been in control around Thomas because he liked him, what did that mean about her? It must have been the same with Charles. Despite being obnoxious and boring, Alastair saw something in him and his presence calmed him. Charles hadn’t even known about his powers. Then why did she make everything worse? Did Alastair hate her? Did her presence upset him? In all these years, Alastair had tried spending time with her only a few times, but when he did he always left abruptly. Because he was losing control. But what was it about her that made him lose control?

‘I am not so sure I can calm him,’ Cordelia admitted. ‘But at least I can apologize to him.’

‘It’s not your fault,’ Thomas said. ‘It’s not anyone’s fault, I think. Except maybe your father’s. It was not unreasonable of you to want some company, and it was understandable that would upset your brother considering how scared he was. It’s a difficult situation altogether, I don’t think either of you was wrong.’

‘Do you have older siblings, Thomas?’ Cordelia asked.

‘Two older sisters,’ Thomas said. ‘They’re insanely protective of me. I was often sick as a child, weak, people thought I wouldn’t live past ten. I got better and grew pretty strong later, but they’re still protective. Maybe that’s it, maybe Alastair gets so upset around you because he wants to protect you and is scared he can’t.’

Cordelia frowned. ‘Wouldn’t he be scared of hurting you, or Charles, as well?’ she asked.

‘I imagine so. But he did hurt you, in the past, right? That’s what Lucie said. It could explain why his fear is so much worse around you. Perhaps seeing you brings up memories of what he did and that’s what causes him to lose control.’

#Alastair Carstairs #Cordelia Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Lucie Herondale #Ariadne Bridgestock #Kamala Joshi #Eugenia Lightwood #Grace Blackthorn #Anna Lightwood #Christopher Lightwood #the last hours #conceal don't feel #frozen au #fanfiction

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official-weasley · 3 years ago

Text

The Extraordinary Dragon (Part 5/6)

A fluffy story about Charlie training a dragon with a sad and mysterious past.

Warnings: Finding out what happened to the dragon Word Count: 3,682

“This is your last chance to say no.” Matthew was leaning in the doorway of my hut, watching me double-check my bag to see if I have everything I need for my journey to visit the MacFusty clan.

“And I will tell you like every day for the past 3 days that I am not changing my mind. I need to do this, Matt. I can’t sleep at night because I don’t know why Asterin is acting as she is. She couldn’t just be abandoned. The markings on her wings and head are proof of that and after being here for over 2 months she is still absolutely terrified.” I sighed. “And because you won’t allow me to see her since she hurt me, she has been completely alone – just eating and sleeping.”

I wanted to look at him and frown but I knew he was right and only wanted to keep me alive. If it was up to me I would go back to her habitat and work with her the second I could walk properly again. Matthew nearly had to glue me to the bed and make me promise 5 times that I won’t sneak out to go and see her.

Even though my back was still sore and I wasn’t completely healed, I convinced my boss to let me go and see the MacFusty’s. This injury has been by far the worse one I endured since I started working here 10 years ago but I don’t blame her for it.

Did I almost die? Yes. Do I think she did it intentionally? No.

During the two months I spent in the hospital I have been coming up with a plan for what will I say to the family when I get there. Matthew wrote to them on my behalf and they were more than happy to welcome me and give me accommodation for the time being.

“I just need a favor from you before I go.” I zipped my bag and looked up at him.

“Why do I have a feeling I will want to say no to what you’re going to ask of me but you won’t let me?” Matt raised his eyebrows.

“I want to see Asterin,” I said determinedly.

“No way. Charles, you do remember the reason why you were laying in the infirmary for the past two months, right?” Matthew furrowed his brows.

“You do remember why I am going to Scotland in the first place, right?” I playfully rolled my eyes at him.

“You and your Sagittarius adventurous spirit will be the end of you one day, Charles.” Matthew sighed but didn’t say anything else.

“Does that mean I can see her?” I almost jumped on the spot.

“You would sneak out and go and see her even if I told you not to so why did you even ask?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I smirked and walked past him with my bag.

“Your portkey leaves in an hour though!” He shouted after me but I only waved and hurried to the dragon.

I put my bag down next to the edge of her habitat and carefully moved forward. Even though I knew that Asterin had a reason to attack me I was still a bit nervous to see her. I didn’t know how she’ll react when she catches the sight of me and I was hoping she wouldn’t want to repeat what she did 2 months ago.

“Asterin, where are you, girl?” I swallowed thickly, trying to steady my shaking voice.

The second she heard me I could feel the ground shaking with her stomps.

“Here you are! I am sorry I didn’t visit you for such a long time.”

Asterin replied with a roar straight to my face but she kept her distance.

“I know you haven’t seen me in two months. You probably didn’t miss me as much as I missed you but I hope you did – at least a little bit. I am just here to tell you something, mind if I sit down?” I asked with my head bowed, my heart drumming in my chest.

Asterin didn’t do anything. She sat as she usually does with her claws dug into the earth.

“I am going to Scotland to visit the MacFusty family. Do you remember them? They were the ones that brought you here.”

She sat still and only gave out a loud-sounding growl.

“I know that if you could speak things would be so much easier. I know that something had to happen to you, something bad, that you are so reserved and so untrusting. And I am going there to find out what it is. I am not giving up on you, alright. I promise you that, Asterin.” I looked up at her. She tilted her head to the side, looking like she was trying to figure out what I was saying.

“And when I come back, we are going to start from scratch. I hope you know I don’t blame you for what happened. I know it was your past doing the action and not you. You can trust me, Asterin.” I gave out a soft smile and stood back up.

“I will be back before you know it and then get ready to be around me all the time.” I chuckled to myself. “You’ll see how annoying I can be.”

I grabbed my bag and hurried to where the portkey was waiting for me, leaving Asterin behind howling as if she was calling for me to come back.

—

“Hi, I’m Marcus.” A tall man greeted me when I arrived in Scotland.

“Hi, I’m Charlie.” I dusted my trousers before giving him my hand to shake.

“Oh, we know who you are, Charles Weasley. We have made the right decision assigning Asterin to you. I have heard you are doing a great job.” Marcus grinned at me.

“Where did you hear that?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “I have been in the infirmary for the past 2 months because I wasn’t careful around her and I didn’t make any progress.”

“Well, Matthew told me that you have been spending every day with Asterin before she ambushed you and she didn’t snap at you or want to eat you alive so I call that progress.” He giggled.

“You call that… What exactly did she do when she was with you?”

“The attack you suffered happened here a few times. That was the reason we wanted to transfer her. We figured that perhaps being so close to where she was found didn’t suit her.” Marcus replied.

“She attacked more than one person?” My eyes widened in surprise.

“8 to be exact.” He nodded.

I didn’t know what to say, staring at him with my mouth open. I know I shouldn’t feel relief after finding out that 8 people got hurt but I couldn’t help but feel good that Asterin didn’t only do this to me. It means that I didn’t do anything wrong or scare her, she simply doesn’t trust anyone.

“I have so many questions.” I shook my head as we got to the reserve.

“And I wish I could give you all the answers, Charlie.” Marcus’ shoulders sank. “But unfortunately we told everything we know to Matthew before bringing her to you.”

“Will you at least take me to where you found her?”

“Of course! I am not going to lie we were surprised when we got the letter announcing your arrival but we were happy you decided to come here instead and not give up on her just yet.” He smiled softly at me. “I will never give up on Asterin,” I said more to myself than to him but the shining look in his eyes told me he heard me and he liked what I said.

“How are you feeling after the journey? Do you want me to show you to your room so you can get some rest or maybe offer you something to drink or eat?”

“Thank you, Marcus, you are very kind but if you don’t mind I would like to go to the forest straight away. I don’t want to lose any time.”

“Now I know why Mary was so eager to pick you after she talked to the Swedish Sanctuary.” He laughed.

“What do you mean?” I tilted my head in confusion.

“Mary and John decided to transfer her to Sweden and when Mary got their answer, them recommending you, she replied to them at once wanting to know all about you.” He started to explain. “She was very impressed with the work you’ve done in one year in Sweden – especially when she found out how young you are.” He winked at me.

“You people flatter me too much. It’s just work.” I bowed my head, trying to hide the fact that all these compliments made my blood rush to my cheeks.

“Perhaps, it’s you that has to give yourself more credit, Charlie.” He gestured with his hand for me to step inside the 3 stories high wooden house.

“Mary, there’s someone that I think you’d like to meet,” Marcus shouted.

“Oh, dear Merlin! Is he here?” A woman that reminded me of an older version of his sister-in-law Fleur, came down the stairs with sparks in her eyes.

“Hi, I’m Charlie.” I waved awkwardly, not knowing what to do as she stared at me for solid 5 seconds.

“Oh, pardon me! I didn’t mean to stare, dear. I just wanted to meet you for months now!” She jumped in the air a bit before shaking my hand. “Thank you so much for putting so much effort and trying to find out what is wrong with Asterin. She is such a sweetheart despite, well, causing some incidents.”

“Well, the good news is, in Romania, she only hurt me.” I smiled reassuringly.

“We’ve heard.” She frowned. “I am so sorry. I am happy to see you back in good health and I admire you for still wanting to help her.”

“Could someone take me to where you found her?” I cleared my throat. I didn’t come all this way to be showered with so many compliments.

“Of course! I’m busy making supper but I will ask John if he can take you. I’ll be back in a second.” She bestowed me with a wide smile and hurried back upstairs.

Not a minute later, she came down with a young man, whispering something to him.

“Charlie! So nice to finally meet you! Are you ready to head out?” He offered me his hand without introducing himself. The second I shook it, he walked toward the door and gestured for me to follow him.

“I hope they didn’t bombard you with questions.” He sniggered when we got a few meters away from the house.

“No, it was okay.” I let out a silent laugh.

“I’m John, by the way. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. I just saw the look on your face and had a feeling you needed to be rescued from that situation.”

“Nice to meet you, John. As I said, it was fine. I just prefer dragons over people, I guess. I am less awkward with them.” I shrugged.

“Oh, I understand. If Mary would let me, I would be outside with them all the time.” We stopped at the edge of the forest.

“I truly hope you find something in there. We were very thorough with our investigation but whoever left her in there was careful not to leave any tracks behind.” John looked angry.

We were walking for about 10 minutes when the thick forest started to open up. Some of the trees in front of us were broken and the ground looked scorched.

“This is it,” John whispered as we stopped walking and turned to me. “Take as much time as you need. I’ll be right here.”

“It’s okay. I remember how we got here so if you have anything else to do, you can go. I’ll come back alone.” I smiled. “Alright. Then I will go and play with Hephaestus. He hatched 3 weeks ago and he is adorable! When you come back I can introduce you if you’d like.” He grinned at me.

“I would love that.” I waved at him and he disappeared between the trees.

I took a deep breath and turned around. I couldn’t shake the nervous feeling in my chest. What if I can’t find anything? What if I return empty-handed and I won’t know how to tame her or help her not feel so afraid? What if I fail? I would have to break my promise to her.

“No,” I whispered to myself and inhaled and exhaled deeply. “This has to work.”

I walked closer to the scorched area and lit my wand to see better. I was determined not to leave until I find something that could help me.

The darker it got the more I lost all hope that perhaps the MacFusty family did miss something. I was ready to leave, after about 3 hours of walking around and checking every tree and twig on the ground for evidence when I looked at the big boulder on my left for what seemed like the 15th time.

It looked out of place but I couldn’t wrap my head around why that was. There is nothing unusual about a big rock in the middle of a forest but not placed like that – not leaned against a tree. I made my way to it and looked at the ground around it. It looked as if it fell to the spot and wasn’t moved again.

I decided to head back and ask John and the others about it. If they moved the rock then I will go to the forest again tomorrow and search for more clues, if not then I might just have an idea about what happened!

“Charlie, you’re back. We got worried and were ready to go and find you.” Mary said the second I came through the door.

“I apologize. I didn’t want to scare anyone. I just wanted to stay for as long as I had light.”

“Which was 2 hours ago.” Marcus sniggered.

“Did you find anything?” John wanted to know.

“Well, I wanted to ask you about the rock, leaned on a tree. Was that always there or did you move it when you were doing your search?”

“A rock?” Marcus and Mary said in unison.

“Yes, about the size of a person,” I explained. The three of them looked at each other.

“We definitely didn’t move no rocks as big as a human being,” Marcus said slowly and the other two nodded.

“It looked like it fell and was just left there.”

“Where did you find it?” John asked.

“At the scorched area. I didn’t move away from it much, I thought I would do that tomorrow.”

“Can you show me?” John got up and walked to the door, ready to put on his jacket.

“You want to go now?” Marcus seemed puzzled. “Yes, uncle. Charlie might’ve found something we’ve missed!” John turned to me, nodded and we were on our way.

“Okay, show me, Charlie,” John said a bit out of breath when we got back to the area where Asterin was found. He was so excited for me to have found something they might’ve missed that we half-ran to the forest.

“This one. Do you see the ground around it? It’s not like other rocks, where it’s evident that they have been in place for a very long time.” I pointed at the boulder and moved closer to it.

“Blimey,” John said under his breath. “I can’t believe we’ve missed this. I reckon we didn’t even see it. We probably thought it was like all the rest. But you are right, Charlie. It looks like it fell and from a great height at that!”

“Exactly!” I exclaimed, not containing my excitement at all.

“So what’s your theory, Charlie?”

“I would need to write to my team to somehow do a health check-up for Asterin, before making any speculations. But my best guess would be that the rock fell off her.”

“You mean someone hit her with this bloody thing!” John gasped.

I nodded and asked if we could go back so that I could send a letter to Matthew as soon as possible.

“John, did Charlie find something?” Mary asked when we entered the house.

“Yes, I think so. He needs to write a letter to Romania. Can you bring him some paper and prepare Puff?”

“Yes, yes! Of course!” Mary hurried to the other room while John accompanied me to the kitchen.

“Charlie, if you make the connection, this might be the answer to everything!” He started biting his nails the second we sat down.

“I know.”

“Mary said to give you this!” Marcus rushed in with a quill and several pieces of parchment.

“Thank you.”

I dipped the quill into the ink and started writing as fast as my hand allowed me.

Matthew,

we have discovered a boulder in the area where Asterin was found. It looked like it fell from a great height. I speculate that Asterin was hit by it. If it was her back it would be broken, as would be her tail. The only part of her body that could endure such an injury without a broken bone is her head.

I know we said to wait longer with the check-up because we have no idea how to do it, but you have to try and put her to sleep so that the healers can take a look at her head. See if there is any chance that her behavior has to do with the damage a rock a size of a person could cause.

Send back the owl as soon as you can and good luck,

Charles

I put the letter in the envelope Mary brought along with the owl and send Puff on her way at once.

During supper, I explained my theory of what I think happened. I believe that Asterin escaped wherever she was imprisoned. Hebridean Blacks have a good sense of where to find a dragon of their breed. Her capturer followed her and when they saw how close to the reserve she has gotten they panicked and the only way they thought they could stop her was by hitting her with a big rock on the head.

They all looked at me in astonishment as if they couldn’t believe such a thing could happen.

“If I ever find the person who has done this to Asterin, I am murdering them with my own hands!” Marcus slammed his fists against the table.

“I…I can’t believe it. I don’t want to. Poor Asterin.” Mary had her hand over her mouth, her eyes glistening with tears.

“In a way, I hope Charlie is right.” Finally said John.

“John!” Mary scolded him.

“Well, if he’s right, it means that we will know what happened to her and perhaps Charlie can take a proper approach. It means we can help her, aunt Mary.” John explained himself.

“John is right, Mary. It’s not pretty but at least she might start trusting people.” Marcus looked at me.

I went to my room the second we were done with dinner. I wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible, hoping that in the morning I will receive an answer.

I was disappointed however when the owl didn’t return the next day or the two days after that.

On the fourth day of my visit, Hephaestus and I were best mates. It was wonderful to meet so many Hebridean Blacks and observe their personality. We only have one in the Sanctuary besides Asterin and he is quite old so I never had a chance to see one so lively and playful.

I liked working with John. He reminded me of myself in so many ways – especially how he likes to talk to dragons as if they were humans. I wish we could have more people like him in the Sanctuary so that I wouldn’t feel as if I am the most obsessed dragonologist in the world – then it would be two of us!

“Alright, Hephy, now roll over and then breathe fire away from us.” John gave the order to a 3-week-old Hebridean Black.

Hephaestus did as he was told and for his performance, he received a bucket of chicken blood and brandy.

“Go on, Charlie. Tell him to do a trick, he trusts you enough now.” John gave me a thumbs up and right when I stood up to walk closer to where the dragon was, I was distracted by Puff who was flying toward us.

“Thank you, Puff.” I breathed and gently took the envelope from her even though I wanted to burst from excitement. I tore it open and started reading.

Charles,

I apologize for taking so long to return the owl with our answer. You can imagine that it wasn’t easy putting Asterin to sleep. One of our potion masters made a large batch of Sleeping Draught. It was the only way to bring her down.

Three healers examined her. You were right, Charles. She had to hit her head with something. The damage on it can be hardly seen as if one side of the rock was flat but when we gathered researchers to examine her behavior when she woke up we realized that she suffered permanent damage to her brain.

There is no internal bleeding and her skull is fine but the impact with that boulder…

I don’t know how to better explain it, Charles – she thinks she’s still a dragonling. Even though she developed and she’s growing, in her mind, Asterin will always feel as if she is the age she was on the day they found her.

The healers can explain better as you return. I hope you can do something with the information, Charles. I know you are the only one who can.

See you soon,

Matthew

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #the weasleys #dragon boy #charles weasley #hebridean black #dragons #a dragon story #charie weasley hphm #dragonologist

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in-love-with-the-carstairs · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 1

~Chapter 2~

Alastair was lying in his bed, tossing and turning, unable to get to sleep. His mind was filled with the events of the past day. Thomas had taken him on a date to a small bookshop, filled with Persian books. He loved it. It had been so thoughtful, so in touch with his interests, he’d nearly cried.

Charles had never paid nearly as much attention to him. Never paid any attention to him period. Thomas had bought him a surprise gift, and then taken him out for coffee. He made no comment about Alastair wanting to read his new book, even brought a book of his own so that Alastair wouldn’t feel guilty.

The happiness hadn’t even begun to fade and it had been hours since they’d parted ways.

He was thinking about Thomas when he heard footsteps outside his room, followed by a quiet knock on his door.

Dragging himself up from his incredibly comfortable bed, he opened the door slightly irritated, when he saw his little sister standing there. That alone would’ve been enough to shake him out of the lovesick trance he’d been in but her appearance is what really concerned him. Her hair was a mess and she looked as though she hadn’t slept for a week. She was always so well put together, seeing her like this was a rarity.

Opening the door further, he let her into his room. She walked in and sat on his bed, looking slightly shell-shocked. Alastair was worried, he’d rarely ever seen his sister in this kind of state.

“What’s wrong Layla?” he asked, not fully expecting a response but hoping for one anyway.

“I had a nightmare,” she replied, “well, technically it was a memory but it had slight altercations.”

Oh. Alastair knew very well how those kind of nightmares worked. And what was worse was that you couldn’t wake up and tell yourself it wasn’t real. Because it was. Because you were living that nightmare. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. He also knew that the Merry Thieves had a tendency to do risky things and that, since coming to London, Layla got caught up in many of those risky things, much to his dismay.

They stayed like that for a while, before Cordelia whispered a request.

“Could you play the piano for me?”

Alastair tensed. He hadn’t played the piano in years. Not since his father had criticised him it and forced him to stop playing, causing his mother great upset. But if it could help his sister, was it not worth it? And this was Layla, she wasn’t going to judge him.

“Alright.” Alastair agreed quietly, coaxing a small smile out of Cordelia. It was small but genuine and that’s what mattered.

He stood, taking hold of her hand and started walking slowly towards the door, gauging how much energy she had. When she found her feet, they went downstairs, quietly, so they wouldn’t wake Sona or Risa.

They walked over to the piano and Alastair sat down on the piano stool, Cordelia sitting on the floor next to him, leaning against his leg.

He was about to ask Layla what she wanted him to play when he saw some old music sheets on the bookshelf. He remembered hiding them in the very small space on top of the books after he’d been told to stop playing by his father.

He stood up, ignoring Cordelia’s indignant noise at losing his leg, which she’d been lying on. He fetched the sheets and found that it showed a few old Persian songs. He remembered the day his mother had presented them to him.

It had been a gift for one of his birthday’s. She was so thrilled that he’d learnt how to play the piano, she had always loved music and was very sad that Cordelia had absolutely no musical talent.

Alastair had tried to teach her how to sing once, as a surprise for their mother, and found she sounded like a dying cat. After about two hours trying to coax any kind of pleasant sound from Cordelia, he’d given up, but the process had provided them with a lot of laughter and given them quite a few jokes that no one else understood.

Sona was very touched by this gesture, no matter how badly it went. Risa had complained about the noise afterwards, but the fond smile on her face showed her true feelings towards the incident.

A smile ghosted his face at the memory, before he took his place back on the stool, Cordelia resuming her position next to his leg.

He placed his hands on the keys and started to play, the melody so familiar that he stopped needing to look at the sheets, the rest of the tune coming to him naturally. As his hands danced over the keys, he found himself relaxing, feeling the same thing happen to Cordelia, who had previously been so tense she might’ve snapped, slumped over his leg. He was also relieved to find that his skill had not disappeared in the years in which he hadn’t practiced.

He played the first song, and then the next and then one more. The more he played the more it seemed as though the dam he had built up inside of him, the one keeping his emotions away, was cracking. Suddenly, he was no longer concerned about waking his mother or Risa. He focused entirely on pouring his heart and soul into the music he was producing.

He focused on the feelings he’d bottled up for so long, resentment over the way he’d been treated at the Academy, the way he’d been forced to treat others, the confusion at his feelings towards his father, the way he wanted to hate him but found he couldn’t.

His anger at himself for letting people take advantage of him over the years, the anger at those same people for thinking that it was acceptable to treat him like that.

His sorrow at how he’d felt he would never be loved. His happiness when he’d found out Thomas felt the same way he did, followed by the heartbreak when reality sunk in and he felt as though they could never be together. The disbelief when Thomas had showed up on his doorstep, declaring his love for Alastair and how he refused to let anyone stand in their way. The joy that had accompanied him since that day.

All these emotions he’d pushed down for so long, as well as so many more he couldn’t name came bursting through, an explosion of beautiful sounds coming through on the piano.

When he was done, he was exhausted.

“Oh Alastair,” Cordelia whispered, a look of utter sadness on her face, as if she finally understood. She finally understood the pain that he had felt. How much everything had affected him. She wrapped her arms around him and, in the darkness whispered, “Thank you dadash.”

It was then he noticed the tears streaming down his cheeks.

And he realised, in that moment, that Cordelia had done this just as much for him as for her. Allowing him to explain everything he’d felt, without forcing him to say the words. How she’d known that’s exactly what he needed, he had no idea. He hadn’t even known that’s what he needed.

She’d given him one of the only things he’d ever truly enjoyed doing, back. He wasn’t like her, punching things or training didn’t make him feel better. What helped him was getting completely lost in something he loved. Something that he was good at. Something that he could pour all his emotions in to. Before his father had stopped him from playing, the piano had been one of the few constants in his life. Something that was always there for him, not temperamental, something that never turned it’s back on him, as ridiculous as it sounded.

He slowly stood up, getting ready to go back to bed since it was still incredibly early and, while it felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, he was also exhausted. It had taken a toll on him emotionally. Cordelia took his hand and he led her up the stairs.

As he was about to turn into his room, he felt Cordelia tug at his hand, a nervous expression on her face.

“Can you stay with me please, dadash?”

There is no way he would say no. Not with the look on her face, the tone of her voice or the use of Persian.

He followed her into her room, and slipped into bed beside her.

He fell asleep holding his sister’s hand, feeling better than he’d done in a very long time.

(And if Sona nearly cried after hearing her son playing piano after so many years, at hearing the pain in her son’s music but also the underlying hope in it, well that was no one’s business but her own.)

(Even if it was incredibly early in the morning.)

If you want to be tagged let me know!

#alastair carstairs #risa #cordelia carstairs #sona carstairs #alastair and cordelia #carstairs siblings supremacy #fanfic #fanfiction #thomastair #thomas x alastair

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 years ago

Text

Riding the Lightning: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

There are only two hours left, so if you’re going to do something, then you need to do it now. Penelope has been working overtime to see if she can’t track down Riley without the help of Sarah, but she really made sure he wouldn’t be found. She really doesn’t want Riley to surface.

“Check all police and hospital records dating back to September 1990,” Gideon asks of Penelope, and she gets straight to work.

“You know, you should check local newspapers to see if anyone reported any abandoned babies,” Spencer suggests.

“Yeah, I don't give a damn where the governor is, we may have found proof that Sarah Jean is innocent,” Sam Shapiro says over the phone.

“She really only had a maximum of three hours between police visits. It was four p.m. so traffic was pretty heavy. Whatever she did with Riley had to be local,” Spencer theorized.

“In 1990, there were three babies that were abandoned in Septemeber,” Penelope reveals.

“Three-year-old boys?” you ask.

“None.

“Why doesn't she just tell us where Riley is?” Spencer says in frustration.

“She is protecting him against Jacob. She refuses to let him be Jacob’s last victim. If he knows who his real parents are, then he’s haunted for life, and that’s exactly what Sarah doesn’t want.”

“Look, they are being executed within an hour of each other. What hope do we even have to finding him in time?” JJ asks.

“You know, it's quite possible, she doesn't even know where he is anyway.”

“No. she knows. We’ve got to get into her cell. Y/N, come with me.”

You follow Gideon to find the warden since he is the only one who can grant her access outside of her cell. He’s right outside of Jacob’s cell, and as much as you despise being around him, it’s for Sarah. Once he sees you, he smiles evilly, but you ignore him as best as you can.

“You've come to see the show?” Jacob asks.

He’s in the process of being shaved for the electric chair, but you ignore him.

“We need to get into Sarah Jean's cell. I believe the proof--”

“I can't do that!” Charles Diehl hisses and takes you two off to the side. “All official lines of communication are now over.”

“We just need five minutes,” you beg.

“Agents! They want the memory of these two individuals erased.”

“Five minutes. Please. That’s all we need,” you plead.

Charles sees the desperation in your eyes, and he just sighs with a gentle roll of his eyes.

“Five minutes.”

“Thank you. Come on,” Gideon urges.

He takes you to Sarah’s cell once it’s clear to go inside and look through everything she has. It isn’t much, but you don’t have a lot of time. Gideon goes straight to work in rifling through the books and mattress for something, but you’re drawn to the painting of her son in the field. He’s running happily, and you realize there is something pulling you to that specific painting. Gideon notices you just staring at it, but he doesn’t yell at you to keep looking. He knows you have something.

“What is it?”

You reach for the painting and take it off the wall, turning it over to reveal a newspaper clipping of a teenage boy. It’s about an award that he won, but there is no mention of what the award is, where he got it, or his name. However, you take one look at this picture and know it’s Riley.

“This is Riley. He’s alive,” you say and show him the picture.

“Let’s go.”

Gideon puts everything back the way it was before leaving the cell. You can’t be here when Sarah Jean comes back, and luckily, Penelope isn’t that far from her cell. As soon as the technical analysis sees the picture, she freaks just a little.

“That's Riley. It's her son, isn't it? Someone tell me it's him, please,” she begs.

“Yes, it is,” you nod.

“JJ, circulate this photo to the press. See if anybody recognizes this boy,” Hotch orders.

“Do I say who we think he is?”

“No just put him out as the missing persons.”

Before she can leave, a loud noise goes off that signals something. It’s not a good noise, you know that for sure.

“Okay, what does that mean?” JJ asks.

“It means Jacob is being moved to the execution chamber,” Spencer says.

You grab the photo of Riley and inspect it. There is nothing on here that suggests where he is because Sarah cut out the words. All she wanted was a picture of him, and that was enough for her.

“She cut around the photo so no one can read the text. He was two when he disappeared. This boy is sixteen or seventeen. If he's Riley, it would mean it's a recent photo.”

“Once Jacob's dead, do you think Sarah Jean would tell us if this is Riley?” JJ wonders.

“No, she won’t,” you shake your head.

“Gideon, she has to know we know.”

Gideon gives one single nod as the two of you head over to Sarah’s cell where she is finished being prepped for the execution chamber. She knows you took her photo which means she knows you know Riley is alive and well. It doesn’t take long for Jacob to be killed, and as soon as he is, you hope Sarah will tell you where Riley is.

“Jacob is gone. He's no longer any threat to Riley. Tell me where he is. We can stop this madness,” Gideon says when he sees her.

“There is no greater gift in life than that of being a parent. Yet so many of us abuse and squander that gift. You can deny being a parent all you want, but I know you are one,” she says to you. “I made my decision fifteen years ago. This has never been about Jacob. It's always been about Riley.”

“That's why we can't let you do this,” you beg.

“This isn't about you and me.”

“I know it isn't. That's why I'm not going to let Riley lose the greatest gift he knew he had,” Gideon declares.

“But that is my gift to him, and I'll not let you destroy that.”

You two leave her cell, and Gideon looks at you with a curious gaze.

“Are you a parent?”

“No. She’s lying,” you shake your head. You refuse to open the locked parts of your mind. There are a lot of secrets back there, and they are locked away for a reason. “We have to find Riley. Come on.”

You two head back to where Penelope and the rest of the gang are.

“Only people Jacob allowed Sarah Jean to know were the family she cleaned for,” Gideon thinks out loud.

“Sarah Jean worked for wealthy families all over Hampton. Let's go over all the families in the state of Florida who were looking to adopt in 1990, and let's see how many lived in Hampton,” Hotch orders, and Penelope goes to work.

“Families looking to adopt... hundreds.”

“How many from Hampton?”

“Uh, three families. The James', the Coulfied's, and the Sheffield's.”

“Looks like the Sheffield's removed themselves from the list in October 1990, and then moved out of Hampton,” you note when you read what’s on her screen.

“That's one month after Riley vanished where did they go?” Gideon asks.

“Uh, Keystone Heights. We got a match on the photo. It was in a piece of local daily news.”

“Call Morgan and Elle and tell them to get to the Sheffield's house.”

You take out your phone and dial Derek’s number with waited breath.

“You got something?” Derek answers.

“Get to the Sheffield’s house. We found her son. Keystone Heights,” you say and give him the address.

“That’s not far from here. We’re on our way.”

“Thanks. Call when you get there,” you say to him and look at Gideon. “He’s going there now.”

“Byran Sheffield,” Spencer reads from the real article the picture came from. “Local cello prodigy, seventeen-year-old Byran Sheffield won a scholarship to play the cello.”

“Let’s go,” Gideon motions for you to follow him.

You rush over to where Charles Diehl is taking Sarah to the execution chamber. They haven’t gone in yet, and you arrive just in time.

“We found him. We found her son,” Gideon reveals to the warden.

“Unless I receive an official stay of execution from the governor, I'm duty-bound to see this through,” he sighs.

“My son is dead, agent Gideon,” Sarah tries.

“I have agents on the way to his house as we speak, and the governor is standing by.”

“Why can you not accept the truth?”

“We can't. This isn't it,” you say emotionally.

“Agents are with in minutes of finding her son, alive,” Gideon says to Charles.

“I am truly sorry,” he sighs and pauses right outside the door. “Hold here.”

“What wouldn't you do for your son to give him a life you could never hope to dream of? I am at peace in the knowledge that my son is free to be whatever he chooses to be.”

“If he knew who you were, do you think he'd choose to allow you to walk in there?” you ask.

“If he knew who his parents were, can you imagine the damage my legacy would leave him?”

“Can you imagine what he would feel? Knowing his mother spent fifteen years on death row, innocent of all charges, just so he can be free of her?” Gideon argues.

“Not me, Jacob. It isn't just my life you have in your hands. It's Riley's life, too. You have the chance to save my son's life.”

“We choose to save yours, too,” you sniffle tearfully.

“My life ended the day I met Jacob,” she repeats herself.

“Gideon, I've got Elle. She says they're at the Sheffield's house,” Penelope says over the earpiece.

“It’s time,” Charles sighs and reaches for Sarah Jean.

“Take your hands off her,” Gideon snaps and speaks into the earpiece next. “Tell Morgan to kick the door and get in the house… whatever it takes. I said take your hands off her.”

“Agent Gideon!”

“A few moments, please,” you beg.

“Gideon, they've got him. What do are we doing here?” Hotch says from next to you two.

“I'm standing here because of choices I've made. Don't let my son be Jacob's last victim. Let me go. Let us both go,” Sarah begs with tears in her eyes.

You can’t help but cry at this because she is an innocent woman being killed for something she never did. Gideon sees this, but he knows he can’t do that to her. It’s all up to Gideon right now, and he makes the right choice.

“Tell Morgan... it's not her son. That we've made a mistake,” he sighs sadly.

“Let him go it's not the boy,” Hotch says into his earpiece.

“Would it be too much to ask if you two are the last faces I see?” she asks of you and Gideon.

“No, it wouldn't,” you whisper.

She gets taken inside the room, and you and Gideon make your way to the gallery where there are other people. You can’t believe they are here to watch a monster die, but you know she is completely innocent. You’re full-on crying right now, but Gideon is keeping it together better than you are.

Sarah Jean sees you two, and she just smiles at the thought of going in peace. You hold eye contact until the black cloth is placed over her head, and you just continue to let the tears fall for the woman who did what she thought was right.

“What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world, remains and is immortal." - Albert Pine

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@averyhotchner @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @fan-girl-97 @paulaern @inkstainedwritergirl @estrela-rogers @abitchforjay @kwbaby24 @redsalv20 @joonie-centric @spencerreid-mgg @sixpencespencee @boygenius-reid @reidemandweep @prophecyflame @happynekochan1 @babydee17

#riding the lightning #series rewrite #criminal minds series rewrite #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #cm fanfiction #season 1 episode 14 #s1e14

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bazwillendinflames · 3 years ago

Text

Wish For You

Read on AO3

For Matteusz, he had hoped that travelling to the kingdom of Rhodia would bring a better life. Despite a job at the castle, his magic - forbidden by the Queen - and growing feelings for Prince Charles, have only complicated things.

For Prince Charles, tired of living in a carefully controlled world meant to protect him, seeks a night of escape, with the help of the closest thing he has to a true friend. A night at the Festival of Souls provides them both a night of freedom. But how free can you truly be when there's a part of yourself you're always hiding?

(AKA A loosely based Merlin Marlie au)

Part One - Magic

Matteusz did his chores by hand, even though it was so early the grand hallways of the castle were practically deserted. He had seen the fate of magic users first hand within his first week in Rhodia. Even almost a year later, the smell of smoke still brought back uncomfortable memories of the woman’s screaming.

He pushed open the Prince’s door without knocking and almost dropped the breakfast tray as Charles let out a startled yelp. Matteusz was equally surprised to see him awake so early - it was rare for him to be awake before Matteusz arrived. It was even rarer for him to awake and ready, although his shirt was ill-fitting and old.

“My apologies Matteusz,” Charles said formally.

“I should have knocked,” he said, not quite sure whether to comment on the fact Charles was usually sleeping at this time. “Your breakfast.”

“Thank you.”

Charles began eating, in the delicate way only nobles who had their next meal guaranteed could. Matteusz tried not to stare at him, although he was more concerned the Prince had gotten himself cursed again than the other reasons he sometimes found himself watching him . But Charles’ eyes were the same pretty blue, no hints of enchantment or glossiness there. (He always seemed to get himself in trouble, magical or otherwise. Matteusz wasn’t sure how the Prince made it to nineteen without him.)

“Are you feeling alright?”

Charles nodded. “Why would I not be?”

They may be friendlier than Mattuesz suspected a Prince and a servant were meant to be - almost friends (which was enough, even if a part of him ached hopelessly for more) - but he still knew better than to push it.

“No reason,” he answered politely instead, busying himself with lighting the fire.

“What has my Mother planned for me today?”

“Strategic meetings in the morning, training with the knights in the afternoon.” The same as every Friday.

Charles’ handsome face twitched into a frown. “How… lovely. What of the evening?”

“No plans I know of.”

That seemed to please Charles, although he didn’t let on why. “Excellent.”

Matteusz didn’t pry. As long as Charles did not get himself into danger (again), he was welcome to his secrets.

Matteusz started tidying the room picking up crumpled clothes. Charles may be polite and remember the names of his servants but he was incredibly messy. He could afford to be in a house full of servants, part of him thought bitterly. Still, Matteusz enjoyed his job, he liked the quiet domestic mornings and he liked being at Charles’ side. He was lucky to get a job at the castle, even if it was a little tedious at times and he was too fearful to use magic. The paycheck that funded his sisters’ education kept him going.

A canvas was set up in the corner, still wet at the edges. It must have been why Charles was awake so early, although Matteusz would never have guessed he was an artist. It was impressive, a beautiful painting of the Rhodian town square, lit up with hundreds of candles. Only half of the night sky was painted but Matteusz could tell it would be a gorgeous piece when finished.

“Did you paint this?” He found himself asking. Then, as it was an obvious question he added: “it is very good.”

Charles looked over at the canvas, his expression pained. “I did. I can explain-”

“You are very talented,” Matteusz interrupted, hoping he wasn’t pushing any of the unspoken boundaries between them. “Is it ever lit up that way? With all the candles?”

“Yes, candles,” Charles said quickly. “It’s how I imagine the town to look at night. I have not been able to see it like that.”

“I would like to see it like that as well,” he agreed, “you make it look magical.”

“Do not tell the Queen that,” Charles said dryly. Matteusz stepped back from the painting guiltily. But it was clear Charles was not being serious, just another of his jokes that did not land right.

“Our secret,” he promised.

Charles smiled at that and Matteusz made himself busy again. It would not do him well to linger on the fluttering in his chest for too long. A Prince and a servant - especially a foriegn one with magic - like him would never work. (But it was nice to imagine sometimes. But only sometimes. If he indulged in Charles' smile for too long, he’d never get anything done at all.)

With the prince busy all morning, Matteusz found himself in a cramped corner of the palace library. Tanya always seemed to know when he’d be away from Charles’ side and had ambushed him half-way through doing laundry. There had been little point arguing as he was dragged around the castle, although he made a token attempt at protesting anyway.

“Shouldn't you be working?”

She hushed him, balancing another scroll on the pile in his arms. Matteusz was sure they weren’t allowed to access the royal library for personal use but there was little point bringing it up to Tanya. She was both stubborn and clever enough to get away with it. Besides, she was one of his only friends.

“Come on,” she hurried him along.

Matteusz followed her, weaving through the many hallways and servant passages of the castle. It had been an impressive sight on his first day but there was always some new pathway or hiding spot he was learning of - impossibly, it was bigger on the inside. Tanya had taken them to a small room, the size of a cupboard, with two beds squeezed in and a rocky dresser in the corner.

“Do not let anyone see you here.”

“I won’t,” he promised.

Tanya pulled on the bottom draw until he came out completely with a creak. A dozen scrolls were hidden there.

“Clever,” he noted. Matteusz had hidden a few texts of his own - old books of magic from the old religion, half-translated to Polish by his Grandmother. Under the queen’s rule, it was important to know how to hide.

“Thanks. I usually don’t take so many, but it was so busy today. Everyone is preoccupied with the festival today.”

“What festival?”

Tanya looked up from her scrolls. “You don’t- I keep forgetting you’re new. Tonight is the Festival of Souls. All staff get the night off. It’s tradition.”

“That’s unexpectedly nice of the Queen.”

“The Prince actually,” she corrected.

Matteusz smiled. “Really?”

Tanya wedged back the draw with force. “Come help me finish my chores so we can go early? And please take that sappy look off your face.”

Matteusz followed her smiling. Tanya may drag him around the castle but at least she dragged him out of it too. A kingdom away from Cela, he had found himself another sister.

“So tell me more about this festival?” Matteusz asked.

They were taking the long walk on the outskirts of the castle, carrying heavy buckets of water out to the stables. As one of the younger servants, Tanya was usually stuck with grunt work like that. Matteusz had only been roped into helping her out of his own niceness.

“It’s fun. There’s live music and nice food. At the end, we light candles that’s meant to be our soul’s wish.”

“It sounds wonderful.”

“You’re lucky you get to experience it for the first time.”

They crossed over from the cobblestone bricks onto the uneven grass. It was a short cut that they desperately needed - Matteusz arms were starting to ache.

“Thank the gods,” Tanya said, dropping the buckets on the ground. “I wish they’d just install a pump out here.”

Matteusz put down his own load and sat by her on the ground. “We deserve a break.”

“Agreed.”

“Did someone say break?” April asked. “Count me in.”

She ignored her own duties of taking the buckets in and joined them. April was one of the stable hands who looked after the castle horses. It was a job that suited her - she was very gentle with them. Matteusz had even caught her singing to them a few times.

“Are you coming to the festival?”

“If the right person asks me,” she replied coyly.

“Are you talking about a certain knight?” Tanya teased.

They were sat close enough to the training fields to make out the figures sparring with each other.

“I might be.” April waved in their direction. The knight in question, Lord Singh, waved back and was knocked on the ground. He did his best to style it out, jogging over in their direction.

“Here’s your chance,” Tanya muttered. “Oh hey Ram. You know you’re meant to stay on your feet during a fight, right?”

“Funny.” He smiled at them charmingly. “I wasn’t expecting my fans.”

“More like casual spectators,” Tanya replied, although it was clear his attention was now firmly directed at April.

“I think that’s our sign to leave.”

“Agreed.” They stood up to leave.

Matteusz smiled over his shoulder. “Hope to see you later April.”

“You will!”

“Should I be jealous you have plans?”

Matteusz almost laughed. He had far more interest in him than April. (Ram flirted with everyone. It said a lot about how smitten he was with Charles that Matteusz wasn’t taken by him more.)

“Just the festival later. You know the one you’ll be taking me to later.”

The pair continued flirting as Tanya and Matteusz walked back in the direction of the castle.

“Good for her.”

“Yeah.” She seemed a little wistful. “Wish it was that easy for people like us to find someone.”

Matteusz’ thoughts ended up back to Charles. “And tell them,” he added.

“My apologies, I didn’t realise you were back from your training already.”

Charles was sitting in front of his canvas, a smudge of dark blue paint on his chin. “No need to apologise.”

“You didn’t go, did you?”

“It may have slipped my mind,” Charles confessed.

Matteusz peered over his shoulder at the painting he had been working on this morning. It was now near finished, with the indigo sky complete and a pale moon in the corner. “You really are talented.”

“You flatter me,” he replied. But Mattuesz could tell from the smile that he enjoyed the flattery.

“Is it the festival?”

“It’s close. I’ve not yet been able to attend myself.”

The Queen was likely behind it: she was a paranoid woman. (She had enough reason to be paranoid, the magical community had targeted Charles a dozen times over her policies against them.)

“I can tell you about it tomorrow.”

“You’re attending?” Charles asked, turning away from his painting.

“If I am allowed to?”

He nodded. “Of course. It’s funny, in ways you have so much more freedom than I do.”

“In some ways,” Matteusz replied, thinking of the flow of magic under his skin he was terrified to use.

“Could I ask something of you?” There was a softness to the Prince’s voice that Matteusz had clung onto. He had a feeling whatever it was Charles would ask of him, he would agree.

“Anything.”

“Could you take me with you?”

Part 2 - Magic

Part of Charles had been hoping that Matteusz would have lent him some clothes. It was strangely disappointing that he hadn’t - his painting clothes had been women enough to pass as commoner wear. Although perhaps if he claimed to be cold later, Matteusz would offer his jacket, or the soft looking scarf he usually wore.

(Charles usually didn’t allow himself to linger too long on Matteusz like that. There were a hundred good reasons not to linger on the way Matteusz had tenderly wiped paint from his face earlier. It wouldn’t end well, for either of them.)

As if Matteusz could tell what he was thinking, he looked over (or down, more accurately) at him. “Are you alright?”

Charles felt his cheeks flush. “Yes.”

Matteusz smiled at him. Perhaps his simpler clothing was doing something good: it seemed like they were almost equals. Matteusz rarely smiled at him as much whilst he was working.

“I can see from here.”

Charles followed him, catching sight of the lights threaded amongst the trees and windowsills of the square. He had only been in the town square a few times before and never in under conditions. This was no emergency evacuation due to cursed wells or an unfortunate face off with an embittered magic welder. (Or, on one special occasion, a dragon.)

The square was far from the state of chaos he was used to. The festival was filled with dozens of lights, meant to represent the souls of their lost family and friends. There were small stalls, with barrels of ale or delicious smelling foods. A band played music in the centre.

“It’s so much more than I was ever able to imagine.”

“You can try and repaint it,” Matteusz suggested.

“Some things are just too beautiful to really capture.”

“You don’t know until you’ve tried.”

Under the waves of gentle candle light, his warm brown eyes were almost golden. It was hard not to get caught up in it all, so Charles forced himself to step away. He was still a prince after all, no matter how free he felt or how simple he was dressed.

“Best not to. I don’t want to give us- me away.”

Matteusz seemed to get the underlying message and nodded. “Yes, of course sir.”

“You know I hate that,” Charles said, hoping his exaggerated frustration would lighten the mood.

Matteusz looked almost relieved. But before Charles could really analyse his expression, Mattuesz was pushing forward through the crowd towards the cluster of stalls.

They stopped at a few stalls, browsing the various wares there. Matteusz picked up a set of two woven bracelets. A matching set.

Charles swallowed back any jealousy. It wasn’t his business to ask who it was for, Matteusz was allowed to have a life outside of his work.

“Best ale in the kingdom,” Matteusz said. He was talking to the old woman who ran the stall with an easy charm.

“Flattery will get you nowhere young man,” she replied. Her accent was similar to Matteusz’ own - she must be from the edge of the kingdom as well. “Who’s this?”

“A friend from the palace,” Matteusz answered.

“Ah. Another unlucky soul?”

Charles stayed quiet, mildly alarmed. Maybe his Mother was right when she told him there was danger everywhere.

“But we have so kindly been given a day off,” Matteusz replied.

It hadn’t occurred to Charles that Matteusz might actually want to spend his day off away from him. He couldn’t imagine any of his past servants doing the same for him.

Matteusz paid for the drinks, passing a tall glass of a dark ale to him.

Charles gave it an experimental sip and spluttered on the bitter taste. He was glad Matteusz was turned away for that one.

They moved away from the stalls, crossing a group of giggling young women pushing past in the other direction, knocking their bags into him and splashing their drinks.

“It seems like your disguise is working.”

Charles rubbed at the dark stain now on his arm. “Yes. Maybe too well.”

“Surely it is nice to be invisible for once?”

“It’s certainly… a change.” He sighed. “Although if we could escape the crowd, I’d appreciate it.”

Just a small comment had alerted him to all the unknowns in the crowds. It would only take one magic user with a grudge to cause chaos.

Matteusz seemed to sense his anxiety and reached for his hand, navigating them through the masses of people into a more secluded corner.

“Better?”

Charles nodded, trying to ignore how his hand was tingling. (He had once fought a magic user who shot bolts of lightning at people. It felt similar - like all his nerves were on edge.)

“I will get us new drinks.”

Charles found himself suddenly alone, in a quiet corner at the edge of everything he had ever dreamed of seeing. He closed his eyes and let the sounds wash over him: endless chatter, musical warm ups from the band, laughter. He could still feel the warmth of Matteusz's hand in his own.

This was a life that Charles could imagine for himself if he had been born common. Visiting the festival every year, not having to worry about meetings or magic or pleasing the Queen. Marrying for love, not power.

It was merely a fantasy - and it would only ever stay a fantasy. But it was nice to imagine otherwise.

“We have a good view of the musicians.”

Charles opened his eyes again, with Matteusz now by his side.

“Uh, yes.”

“Oh there’s April.” Matteusz pointed at the dark haired woman holding a fiddle. “She works at the palace. We should be careful though, Lord Singh is with her.”

“You know a lot about the palace.”

“They’re my friends.”

Charles wanted to ask what that was like but he didn’t want to look too naive. He busied himself by trying the ale again, but the taste hadn’t improved.

Matteusz tried his best to hide it but Charles caught the laughter behind his hand.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No.”

“I can hear you.”

Matteusz moved his hand, revealing his bright smile. It was almost enough for him to be forgiven. “Okay. Just a little. I’ve seen you drink caskets of wine in the kingdom with no problem.”

“They taste nice!”

Matteusz took a long sip of his own drink. “You’ll get used to it.”

They say in a peaceful quiet. They were positioned perfectly to watch couples dance to the music played. Now Matteusz had mentioned it, he could make out Lord Singh spinning the pretty musician girl.

“Must be nice to dance without such strict rules.”

“Yes,” Matteusz agreed, sounding a little wistful.

Charles took a longer gulp of his ale before asking: “do you have anyone to dance with? If you hadn’t escorted me?”

“Escorted?” Matteusz seemed amused. “You’re a little old for a babysitter.”

…Which wasn’t answering his question.

“But no,” he answered. “I had someone back home but I had to leave him behind.”

Him. Charles tried not to overthink it.

“Do you miss it?”

“Dancing?” Matteusz asked. “I am not very good.”

“Having someone.” He felt his face flush again. At least it was darker now and less obvious. He could always blame the ale.

“It was nice.” He looked away from the couples. “I miss other parts of home more. Like my sister. I send her gifts when I can. Like the bracelets I brought earlier. She likes to make ones like them.”

Charles felt a little foolish. “You don’t mention her a lot.”

“I miss her,” Mattesuz replied.

“I sometimes wish I had a sibling,” Charles confessed. “To share the burden of being a prince.”

“Must be lonely.”

He looked over to Matteusz, reliably by his side as always. “Not always.”

Wobbling slightly, Charles was starting to regret his second and third ales. It had taken them to finally pluck up the courage to ask Matteusz to dance with him. It had been ungraceful, yet freeing, to be spun around in hazy circles.

“I’m dizzy.”

“I’m sure you are.” Was Matteusz laughing at him? He found it more endearing than anything else. They had both let their guard down.

“I wish I was normal so we could do this everyday.”

“The festival is only once a year.”

“Then I’ll make it law to happen everyday.”

“Normal people can’t make laws.” Matteusz was definitely teasing him now. “This way.”

“I’d run away after.”

“You can’t just run away.”

Charles frowned. “You did. You left everything you knew.”

“Yeah. But it is different. They need me to be here, even if it's dangerous for me. Rhodia needs you right where you are.”

“How is it dangerous?” He asked. “Magic?”

Matteusz stopped for a moment and Charles stumbled into his back.

“It’s okay. I’ll protect you from the evil magicians Matti.”

“Don’t call me that,” he replied. All the fun sucked out of the conversation suddenly.

Even in his inebriated state, Charles knew when to shut up.

“This is a bad idea.”

“Is it?”

“This shortcut I mean.” Matteusz glanced over down the steep hill. “Not when you’re like this.”

“I’m fine,” Charles shot back. He didn’t want Matteusz to think he was incapable of walking.

“Wait, don’t-” Matteusz called, his voice the last thing Charles heard before he slipped.

Charles had fallen down a hill, in the darkness of early morning, and woken up to the natural light pouring through his open curtains. He had expected the light to sting but he felt okay, minus a fogginess in his head.

Matteusz was nowhere to be seen. He was usually on time for his duties, but maybe Charles had just missed him. There was tea and breakfast on the side, fresh clothes and the open window. Charles just hoped he hadn’t done anything stupid yesterday.

(Charles could remember looking up at him, opening his mouth, a horrified expression on Matteusz face. He couldn’t remember what he said, which was somehow worse.)

He dressed himself. In the mirror, he spotted a small scratch on his forehead. (He could remember falling last night. Maybe just the stairs. He was drunk after all.)

Matteusz was still missing as Charles went about his day. He had done his lessons alone, then was served by a new servant at lunch. By the time his mother had her meetings, he was convinced Mattuesz was avoiding him. He let Councillor Ames speech wash over him, recounting the last night’s events again, trying to find where he went wrong.

Charles recalled his face when he had called him ‘Matti', his warning of caution, then a weightless falling, as if time slowed down. That part felt even blurrier, perhaps he had hit his head, even if it didn’t hurt. In fact, he hadn’t even been hungover. It was like-

“Magic,” Ames was saying, “is evil.”

(“Magic,” Charles recalled himself saying yesterday, “but you’re not evil.”)

“Yes, my lord?”

Without realising he had stood up. It wasn’t just the councillor’s eyes on him, but the whole meeting room. “Um, I agree with the councillor.”

“What was she saying?”

He winced: the queen never went easy on him. “Er.”

“Just go Charles,” she said sternly, “it’s clear your mind is elsewhere.”

“My apologies,” he said. Usually being told off like a child would be upsetting, but there was already something else on his mind.

Charles forced himself to walk out the room slowly. Once he was back in the empty hall, he took off running towards his room. He sunk into his bed, shaking, as the events of the night before finally clicked into place.

He had been falling, Mattuesz shouting something. Not for help, something else. Words he didn’t recognise.

Charles had stopped falling, more like drifting, like a feather caught in the wind. The world suddenly slowed, until he had harmlessly landed on a patch of grass and wildflowers that hadn’t been there before.

Matteusz had gotten down too, suddenly crouched in front of him. He had wiped the small scratch on his face gently and suddenly the bleeding had stopped.

“Are you okay?”

Charles was dazed. “You did something.”

“No I didn’t,” Matteusz said, too quickly. “You just got lucky.”

“No, it was you,” he had repeated, with clarity. “I was floating, it was like…”

“Don’t say it.”

But he had said it. “Magic. You have magic. But you’re not evil.”

“I’m not anything.”

“It all makes sense,” he had said, feeling suddenly sober, “all those fights we won - that was you. I thought I was special. I thought I was a hero.”

“I needed to protect you,” Matteusz whispered. “I will keep protecting you. I’m sorry.”

He had put his hands on his face and for a second Charles had thought he was going to be kissed. Instead, there was just blankness, nothing.

Matteusz had made him forget.

Charles had finally caught up with Matteusz after training with his knights. He had fought better than usual, filled with so much anger that he had even managed to beat Lord Singh.

He had been with the same musician they saw yesterday, watching from a distance.

“Let’s go for a ride,” he had suggested. The musician girl had been a stable hand and given them a horse each and they headed into the quietness of the forest.

“How’s your head?” There was a forced playfulness to Matteusz’ voice.

“Alright, considering how far I fell.”

Matteusz had stopped. “I-”

“I remember.” Charles stopped his horse and slid off him. “Have you made me forget other things?”

“No, never. I only ever used my magic to help you. Memory spells are tricky.”

“You used untested dark magic on me?”

Charles was starting to wonder if going somewhere alone with a magic user was a bad idea. If it was up to his Mother, Matteusz would be executed by the next morning. (He couldn’t let that happen. Charles couldn’t be that wrong about him.)

“It wasn’t dark magic,” Matteusz said, “no magic is dark-”

“Experience tells me otherwise. Magicians killed my Father.”

“I know and I’m sorry that happened. But we are not all like that.” Matteusz stepped back, like he was the one to be afraid. “I will leave tonight. You won’t have to see me again. Please, don’t tell the queen.”

“How could you say that?” Charles asked. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“You have done it to others like me,” Matteusz said. He still looked scared.

“Is that why you didn’t tell me the truth?”

“It is dangerous to be magic,” he explained. “I could take no chances.”

“I understand. I have my own secrets. Even from you.”

Matteusz didn’t ask. (He wished he would. Then he could do something. One kiss, if he really was going to leave, if Charles was allowed one indulgence.)

“For what it’s worth, I wish for you to stay. I will keep your secret. You have saved my life so many times, I owe you that.”

Mattuesz looked relieved. “Thank you.”

(When Charles woke up the next morning, it was Matteusz opening the curtains and letting the light in.)

#marlie #matteusz andrzejewski #charlie smith #class bbc #class dw

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vaulthigh · 3 years ago

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Written in the stars.

Saturday, I stepped onto the baking 100+ degree University of Oregon track to compete in my second Olympic Trials. The feelings overcoming me were quite different than those I experienced in 2016, which back then were derived from being one of the fresh faces on the scene - one of the youngsters who had “plenty of years” to chase the Olympic dream. There may have been some pressure felt then, but this time around it was incomparable.

The Olympic hype is no doubt a factor in the emotional roller coaster most experience at the U.S. Olympic Trials. I compete 9 months out of the year every year, yet this competition (and the Games themselves, of course) is the only one that really grabs the attention of the public eye outside of the track community. Not even World Championships can compare to the Olympic hype, which I find ironic because that team is just as difficult to make, and you end up competing against the same fierce competitors at Worlds as you do at the Games.

I digress.

The point of that paragraph is to say - the pressure was on for the Trials, and while I preach to interpret it as support and encouragement from outside sources, it’s hard to overlook the feeling of expectation when I repeatedly hear the phrase “oh, you’ll make the team easily. Just go for gold in Tokyo!”

“Make the team easily”… ha. The Trials are a beast, and even the top dogs have to be on their A-game. No bad days allowed, because a dozen other athletes slightly down the totem pole are chomping at the bit, rearing to snag those rare 3 spots on the Team. My bad day is their chance to claim the spot, and rightfully so - but no matter how good you are, you can never go in thinking you have something in the bag. That’s when your bag will be lost, and you’ll never get it back. (Sort of like losing luggage while transferring through Charles de Gaulle airport - it’s just gone 😅. I hope someone who has followed me a while giggles at my reference.)

All this to say, the pressure was surmountable, and the most unfortunate part of my story is my confidence on the runway has been lacking the last month or two. It’s been a culmination of attempting to push my physical boundaries and raise my grip, but also combined with attempting to change technical things this season. I ended up biting off way more than I can chew. Being at the level I am, I will be the first to say “don’t try changing too much at once, that can really mess you up.” Well, I guess my judgement has been clouded by my burning desire to improve, and I ended up going against my own advice without recognizing it - until things came crashing down, that is. And I mean that in a literally way.

In my final competition prior to the trials, I ended up going back down to my shorter series of poles because I have felt my technique suffering. I was putting so much energy into trying to jump on the longer poles that my training sessions lacked focus on the basics of my form, which is what made me a 5 meter pole vaulter in the first place. Grip height never got me there - physical ability did. I cannot lose that because speed and power, and my ability to attack at the takeoff, are what made me great. They are my bread and butter.

While change can be a good thing, there is always going to be an adjustment period. Unfortunately for athletes, we still have to compete during the awkward times, which leaves you trying to compete at your best when you’re in the middle of a metamorphosis. It’s going to look as though you’re suffering, but in reality you’re just in the middle of morphing into a butterfly 🦋, and no butterfly can take flight before it leaves the cocoon.

That’s how I feel right now. I believe big positive changes are on the horizon, but they will only happen with persistence and positivity, and also with understanding given to myself from myself. As elite athletes, we hold ourselves to the highest of expectations at all times. I know the process I am going through, yet still was so infuriated at myself for my performance at the Trials. I don’t want to lose that fury and that fire, because that is what’s going to get me through to my goal, but I do want to work on not being so hard on myself. I know it sounds elementary, but it’s true at all levels. If anyone understands the struggles you’re enduring, it should be you. As humans, we should be allowed to show ourselves compassion just as we do toward others.

In that final competition before Trials that I referred to, I felt just ok on the shorter poles. I mean, no worse and no better than I do on the longer ones. (For reference, I’m talking 4.45m/14’7” poles versus 4.60m/15’1” poles.) I am glad I went back to them because it made me truly recognize my technique was suffering. It had nothing to do with what poles I was jumping on. I needed to “get my jump back”, regardless of poles, and I needed to do it fast because the trials were two weeks away at that time.

A few days later I did another vault session on the short poles, and I think it was probably the worst practice I have had in years. Like, literal years. I mean it. I don’t even know why - my body felt fine, the conditions were fine, etc. For whatever reason I just didn’t have it that day. I would run down the runway feeling good, plant the pole, and completely miss the swing and connection. I chalk that day up to sport. That’s just sport. Your bad days are going to happen and you sometimes can search and scrape for an explanation, and there simply isn’t one. You just didn’t have it that day.

“Well, crap.” I thought, when I ran through my last vault of the session and the pole ripped the skin right off the palm side of my thumb. “I needed that skin” I said, laughing in disbelief and also laughing because my body didn’t know what to do with my panic. Isn’t the human body such a strange thing? I felt panic and my reaction was to laugh - not sure that was an appropriate reaction but hey, I’m weird and I know it.

So now I was one week from the trials, I had just had a poor competition, and even more poor practice session, and ripped off vital skin I needed to heal within six days. A pole vaulters ability to grip is vital.

My emotions went numb at that point. I think I had worried away all of my worries. I decided to focus on getting lots of sleep, nourishment, and healing my hand. I kept it bandaged properly 24/7, and soft with ointments. This turned out to be the perfect approach because day 5 it was nearly perfectly healed and didn’t end up being an issue for my first competition day at prelims.

Prelims were absolutely necessary for me, and ended up being the first step in getting my groove back. Aside from it being hot (which I’m used to, thank you Arkansas…) the conditions in prelims were close to perfect. Throughout the warmup I got my feet under me and felt I successfully shook off the former horrid practice. I made 4.50m on my first jump, and with that single jump I qualified for the final round.

Two days later, the heat dome in Portland roasted the stadium to a whopping 111 degrees F. I wanted to take as few jumps as possible the get myself to the higher bars. In hindsight I know that was the right call because wow, doping control took me two hours because I couldn’t pee 90ml of fluid. (90ml is the absolute minimum required amount for a drug test - and it’s not much!) In warmups my run started to feel like “Sandi” again. I hadn’t felt like that in quite a while. I entered the competition and made 4.50m and 4.60m on my first attempts, but I didn’t expect those to be my only jumps of the day.

The bar went to 4.70m and I felt like I was rolling and ready to go now, shorter poles and all. It didn’t matter. First attempt, huge blow through. Needed a stiffer pole, so I missed. Second attempt, same thing! I landed so deep in the pit I had zero chance of making that bar. “Ok” I thought to myself “the next bigger pole has got to be the one. That’s always been my money pole!” So I went up a pole a third time, and after watching Morgan run down and make 4.70m (congrats Morgan!) I knew I had to respond. At this point I didn’t even know I was already in 3rd place and on the team, in my mind, I had to make this height to qualify. (Thanks ADHD, I’m not so great at processing those things mid competition when the adrenaline is pumping.) I ran down with more confidence than I had had in a few weeks time, jumped and had plenty of height over the bar! But my energy was a bit off center and my arm caught it on the way down. I missed my third attempt. I landed in the pit and was rolling out of the landing, simultaneously throwing my hands to my head in frustration, when I heard the announcer clearly state that I was one of the three on the team.

*Cue sigh of relief*, yet I couldn’t shake my extreme frustration so quickly. I had just had a bad day at the Olympic Trials. Needless to say, I was embarrassed. That’s not the feeling I wanted to have while qualifying for my second Games.

That night I experienced just about every emotion that exists. I went through sadness and disbelief, feelings of being lost and hopeless, then anger and rage at myself. I finally fell asleep at 3 am and woke up a few hours later to the videos of my jumps. My dad had texted them to me. I hadn’t wanted to even look at them after the meet because I was so angry and upset, but after I collected my mess of a brain, I took a solid look.

I found hope.

Seeing the videos helped me realize the reality - that my approach was better than it had been in weeks, and it really comes down to the fact that the poles were just too small. That’s it. I just needed to trust the feeling that my run was good and go up poles even in warm ups, but at the time I didn’t recognize that, and I didn’t go up. I started on my small pole.

So here I am three days later, and I feel like a completely different person than Saturday night. I have had time to process my emotions, endure the roller coaster, then watch my jumps with a technical eye. I am so close to being “myself” again, I just have to stay the course.

I am determined. I am going to pick up where I left off on that third and final attempt at the Olympic Trials. I am going to push forth and forge my own path. I had a bad day at the Olympic Trials, and I was still lucky enough to snag the 3rd spot to Tokyo. That was written in the stars, and I can’t help but feel it happened for a reason. I am meant to compete in Tokyo - even the stars believe it to be so, and I’m not about to waste this chance I was just handed.

Have you ever caught a shooting star? Me either. But I’m going to try. 💫

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letsperaltiago · 4 years ago

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a merry little christmas

Welcome to (once again belated) door four of four!

Behind my Christmas calendar’s fourth door is a... baby’s first christmas, pure fluff oneshot ♥️

Summary: It's Baby's First Christmas and Jake and Amy are taking it all in - both presents and tiny surprises from their son. Pure domestic fluff for days.

Rating: G

Words: 2.2k

Read on AO3 here

Right then and there keeping a straight face, or just anything that looks somewhat close to it, is beyond impossible.

It’s Christmas morning, six AM to be more precise, and the still rather new, little family of three is slowly making their way through the presents waiting for them under this years’ Christmas tree. As a matter of fact, it’s rather Jake opening gifts meanwhile Amy is on the couch with their two-month-old son eating his second breakfast - that is if his previous meal at three AM can be considered breakfast. Jake likes to call those meals Midnight Mac Snacks.

“They really need to communicate more,” Amy chuckles, which causes her chest to jolt just the tiniest bit, alas apparently enough that it earns her a grumpy little cry from Mac to which she immediately reacts by stroking and repositioning the tiny infant’s head. “No need to complain, Mr. Mac. Mommy and daddy are just having some fun.”

“He’s bitter because all he got for Christmas is ‘Baby’s first Christmas’-ornaments.” Jake hasn’t stopped laughing since he opened the third ornament, from auntie Roro, which came after uncle Charles’ ornament. Upon unpacking this second ornament, from Charles, matching the first ornament from Holt, it didn’t cause much worry. The new parents simply saw it as a matching coincidence and they’d just keep both. Although upon unpacking a third one, they should’ve known: it was a perfect, hilarious 99th precinct-disaster.

Fast forward to present time, Jake is sat on the living room floor with not three but six ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ ornaments for his son. Sure, they’re all different styles and designs but Jake can’t help but laugh. In retrospect, he and Amy had told the squad that baby Mac didn’t need anything grand for Christmas as he was still so small and had everything he needed so far. They told their friends to save the money and spoil Mac for next Christmas, a Christmas he’d understand much better than the current. Turns out great minds think alike and everyone’s creative take on Mac’s gift had been the same.

“It’s kind of cute that they all had the same idea.” Mac has gone back to quietly suckling on Amy’s breast, allowing her time to chime in on perhaps this Christmas’ funniest moment yet. It’s too soon to declare it the funniest as they’re headed to a huge Santiago Christmas-dinner in the evening and anything can happen there.

For Christmas morning though they very early on, already before Amy gave birth, decided to stay home as they knew it’s what they’d prefer with their very new son. Sitting there, in the moment, looking at gifts from their incredible friends and Mac quietly eating in the lights coming from the Christmas tree, they’re both thankful to have made that choice. Sure, Santiago-Christmas morning was an event that you didn’t want to miss out on but this year, with very few hours of sleep behind them and vomit on both clothes and hair, it’s nice to be able to soak in the sweet surrender of their little trinity.

“We do have the best friends.” He picks up the ornaments, hanging them on his fingers to put on display for his wife. “What do we do with these?” A sheepish smile replaces the goofy grin from before.

“I don’t know…”

The doubt on Amy’s face, biting her lip, thinking hard, is clear as day which is understandable since Jake himself doesn’t hold the answer for their little dilemma. Giving them back to their respective giver is not an option - what would Holt do with a ‘Baby’s First Christmas Ornament’? - and getting a refund also seems too cold. Fact is that each of their friends has had the same idea: they wanted to mark and somehow be a part of Mac’s first Christmas. Jake and Amy can’t, nor want to, take that away from their son nor their friends. All in all, there seems to be no good solution but one: keep all six ornaments.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Jake cocks an eyebrow, implicitly suggesting what his wife is already thinking.

“If you’re thinking that we should keep them all and put them on the tree, then yes, I am thinking what you’re thinking.”

At just the right time, almost as if he’s agreeing, Mac lets go of his mom’s nipple before letting out a small, hazy gurgling sound. A sound he’s never made before. Both parents freeze on the spot, forgetting all and everything about the ornament-issue.

“Did you hear that?” Amy asks, making it sound as if she doesn’t believe her ears and a second opinion is needed. Having studied all and everything for her first child’s arrival, everything this could possibly imply, Amy shouldn’t be surprised that her two-month-old is finally introducing his first small noises. The fact resides very clearly on the Milestones to Expect-index, page 2, in her ‘Two month’-binder. Yet here she is, Jake right there with her, surprised by this new accomplishment of her newborn - one of many accomplishments that she both loves and, even two months in, still is a bit nervous about discovering as she just rather know her baby fully by heart already. On those occasions where Mac’s changing, something she swears happens daily, makes her feel uneasy as if she doesn’t know him at all, she holds onto Jake’s reasoning: Some tests can’t be studied for.

And no matter how much she hates that fact, Amy knows her husband is right and she does love him for reminding her whenever she happens to fall down a spiral of doubt and frantically tries to grasp for the control that lies within facts, books, and lists.

Jake jumps from his spot on the floor as if it were lava and falls into place beside her on the couch where he can hover over his incredible son.

“I did but I didn’t fully realize where it came from right away, but oh my gosh, Ames! Our son is a genius!”

“Perhaps… Or simply in accordance with average-”

“No, Amy - a genius! Like his parents.”

Her husband looking as if he could burst any second, a firecracker of sorts and there’s no stopping the explosion, Amy hurries to put down her before lifted shirt and places Mac against her shoulder. Here she hopes he can both burp and, hopefully, make another glorious sound for them to be proud of. Jake leans in as though he and Mac are to exchange secrets behind Amy’s back and the milk-drunk infant, unable to control a whole lot, waves around his arm and just so happens to grab Jake’s index finger. During these first two months of Mac’s life, this has happened a few times already, the first time being at the hospital which caused Jake to cry happy tears Still, every single time, Jake feels reaffirmed by the fact that creating this tiny human being is one of his best decisions ever - that and telling Amy Santiago that he wished something could happen between them - romantic stylez.

“C’mon, mister. Show daddy how you talk.” Jake coos even though the little man of the moment seems far from interested in or bothered by his parents’ admiration and swooning over his new talent. His mommy patting his back does feel good though, especially when it helps a burp escape and Jake, of course, has to laugh because Mac is truly and fiercely his son. “Now that’s talking!”

“Not what I had in mind but nice to know he’s burped.” Amy chimes in and replaces the soft patting with small loving strokes, hoping to soothe her boy to sleep as the next step in his ‘eat, burp, sleep’-routine - even if Amy wishes Mac would make another sound. Just to confirm that she wasn’t hallucinating before.

“Make a sound for mommy, baby. Just a tiny one.” Amy takes her turn cooing a plea but it happens to be very much in vain.

“Aaand he’s dozed off,” Jake chuckles quietly whilst using his thumb to caress the tiny fist still wrapped around his index fingers, a fist that doesn’t let go even though the owner is already fast asleep with a mix of drool and milk caught in the corner of the gaping mouth.

“That was fast.”

“I don’t blame him. Life is exhausting.” Jake is carefully pecking his son’s head covered by thing, soft, black hair and even though Mac on her shoulder blocks the view, Amy smiles and wonders how she got to lucky with these two boys.

“Bedtime?” Amy asks, expectant of confirmation of whether or not Mac is far enough gone to be moved without waking up and throwing a tantrum that’ll mean they’ll have to spend another half hour or so lulling him back to sleep.

“I sure wouldn’t mind. I did prepare breakfast though.” It comes out mid-yawn, proving Jake’s point further, as he nods his head in the direction of the pancakes, courtesy of Jake, and hot cocoa, courtesy of the local bakery that has blessed their lives by opening at five AM, waiting for them in the kitchen.

“Not you, silly. McClane. You and I are definitely having that delicious cocoa. The smell of it has been tempting me since I sat down to feed.”

They mostly call him Mac. Mac or a thousand other things like Mr. Mac, Magic Mac, baby, monkey - one time, macadamia nut - and the options are limitless and renewed every day. Jake doesn’t know for sure but this might be the reason why the full name McClane being said, the context being that it’s his son’s name, makes him feel butterflies in his belly. Either that or because he still can’t believe they named their son that. Perhaps it’s a bit of both reasons.

“Still can’t believe you agreed to that name.”

“Must’ve been a moment of weakness for me. I was pregnant and delusional.”

Amy teases and proceeds to carefully remove sleeping Mac from his spot on her shoulder, relocating him to the safety of her cradling arms.

“Delusional from the incredible round of sexy timez we had just prior to picking his name.”

“Jake,” she scolds as if the sleeping baby, which doesn’t even grasp the concept of speaking yet, were to be scarred by their explicit flirting.

“What?”

Amy’s already up on her feet, heads down the hall and into their bedroom with Jake close on her heels. “I remember it so vividly.” Jake points to their bed. “We were right here, post incredible sex, and we got talking about baby names because a new suggestion had stroked your mind right before I came in and wooed you with my good, amazingly hot looks.” Amy’s head whips around from where’s she’s just focused on placing Mac in his cradle, double-checking that he’s still asleep, now displaying a cocked brow and overall expression that challenges his recollections of that conclusive night. Defeat hits him and his shoulders drop with a sigh.

“Okay, you were seven months pregnant and going through a particularly horny phase - which I, by the way, loved - and I, being a dutiful husband, couldn’t decline your explicit requests. But I do still stand by the fact that I boinked my way to the name McClane.”

“Oh my god,” Amy groans, partly in reaction to her husband, partly in reaction to her sore back making an appearance when she straightens up from tugging in the baby. “Stop besmearing our child’s name. I can still change my mind.”

“I’m right though.” In the meantime, Jake has approached his wife and wraps his arms around her. Pulling her closer, back to chest, and she instantly relaxes under the pecks he places on her neck. “And it’s an amazing name for an amazing little human.”

They smile in unison as they admire the life they created, carelessly and contently sleeping Christmas morning away, before them. Wrapped up in her husband’s arms and their perfect little son to look at, a fuzzy feeling that is way beyond and greater than happiness flows through Amy’s veins. The pecks to her sweaty and tired-feeling skin pick back up where they left off, systematically and how he knows she likes it, going around her neck and shoulder-area.

“I really wanna give in to how inappropriately horny you’ve suddenly made me, but…” she trails off with a sigh.

“You can’t stop thinking about the hot cocoa.” He finishes her sentence and the pecks are replaced by a muffled chuckle that tickles her skin. “It’s okay, Ames. I’m right there with you.”

“Thank God,” she groans.

“Hot cocoa and a Christmas movie we can fall back asleep to?”

This suggestion of Jake’s that will allow Amy to give into her tiredness is what she’s wanted to hear all morning.

“Sounds perfect. Grab the baby monitor?” She turns around to follow him back to their kitchen only to see him already holding the gadget with a tired, knowing smile plastered across his face and to Amy, even with his messy curls and shirt clad with stains of baby-vomit, her husband looks absolutely perfect.

Baby’s First Christmas might just be her favorite Christmas so far.

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banditthewriter · 4 years ago

Text

Trust Is Earned - Charles Vane - 3

And here we have part three! Thank you to everyone who has read and interacted with this story in any way. I appreciate you all and I hope you’re enjoying it.

No real warning for this chapter!

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

------

“I’ve been informed that I might want to apologize for my behavior the last time I was here.”

You looked up from the candles you were placing on the shelf and frowned in the direction of Jack Rackham. He was alone, no Anne Bonny at his side. You raised an eyebrow and then went back to your candles.

“Is that so?”

There was a shuffle of feet and then Rackham was a little closer than he was before. The store was empty save the two of you, but he still dropped his voice to a whisper as he spoke.

“With the new partnership that you have with Charles, it’s in our best interest to put any animosity behind us, don’t you think?”

A laugh bubbled up in your throat at that. Rackham had a habit of spewing out a great number of words to say a simple thing in an attempt to confuse the other person. He definitely didn’t talk like a pirate.

But he was a pirate all the same.

“My partnership is with the captain of The Ranger. As you are her quartermaster, that partnership extends to you. We can let bygones be bygones as long as you’re aware that if anything like that ever happens again, our partnership might have to come to new terms.”

He nodded his understanding. You watched as he placed his hand over his heart and gave a little bow before he turned back to the door.

“You didn’t actually apologize,” you called as you turned back to the candles on the shelves.

“Excuse me?”

“You were told to apologize but you didn’t actually say the words. I’d like to hear them.”

He didn’t look happy with that, apparently thinking he’d be allowed to slip away with just the thought of an apology instead of the actual act. But you watched as he physically swallowed his pride and stood up straighter.

“I am truly sorry for my behavior and actions when last I was here. Anne and I both extend these apologies to you so that we might be forgiven for our transgressions.”

You had a feeling that Anne was absent because she’d rather cut off her own hand than apologize to you. Not that you blamed her. Both of them were doing what they were told, what they saw as right since you were someone who was in the way of what they wanted.

Nassau was about freedom and pirates operated by their own rules.

“I accept your apology.” You turned back to the candles and let out a quick breath. “About the supplies that you requested when two the of you were here a few days ago. I should have the last of it this evening. Would you like me to bring them to the beach or would you prefer to pick them up here?”

He was once again thrown from his rhythm. You really enjoyed doing that to pirates.

“Bring them to the beach. Thank you.”

He seemed almost suspicious of you as he left the General. You simply smiled as you went back to the backroom to grab another crate of candles.

------

The bag you carried had the last of the things that Rackham had ordered. You stepped around a few drunken men passed out in the sand as you made your way through the different tents and huts that had been erected for the crews.

The area used by The Ranger crew was known as one you did not just wander into, but you had never been scared to walk among the pirates of Nassau. You showed them respect and they did the same to you. Even the ones that thought they didn’t need to follow the rules still gave you a wide berth.

You’d never understood it honestly. Maybe it was just because you were necessary. Maybe it was because you didn’t pick sides.

If the other crews ever found out about your deal with Vane, that might not last.

The tent that Bonny and Rackham shared was empty so you made your way to the next tent on the list. Sure enough they were in with Vane, the three of them discussing needing to careen The Ranger before they went on their next hunt.

“Excuse me,” you called from the opening, not wanting to intrude. “Just came to drop off your order.”

Rackham stood up to take the bag from you. As he did that, Bonny pulled out a pouch with the rest of your coin in it. As she started to hold it out to you, Vane took it from her. He hefted it in one hand before he looked up and met your eyes.

“You mentioned three leads for a hunt. I think it’s time we talked those out.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked from him to the coin in his hand. It was as subtle of a reminder that you could manage that you weren’t someone he could intimidate anymore. He tossed the pouch at you after a long silence.

“This partnership only works if we trust each other,” you said as you made a show of not counting the coins but tucking it into the pocket of your dress. “As this will be our first act in this partnership, I want to make sure I’m not giving you a false lead. Let me do my due diligence and then I promise I will get you your lead.”

Vane looked like he was going to object but you gave him a pointed look.

“Trust, Vane,” you repeated firmly. “I know what I’m doing.”

After a beat or two of him staring at you, he finally nodded and leaned back once more. You turned back towards the entrance to the tent but not before you caught the look of surprise Rackham and Bonny shared.

As you started to walk, you noticed something interesting on a long to the side in the tent. Candles of all sizes and shapes, more than this tent would ever need.

How long had he been sending Rackham and Bonny to spy on you?

Hopefully that would be over with now. Trust, you reminded yourself. It had to work.

------

The sun was starting to set, leaving Nassau in a hue of orange that always made you smile. You sat on a large boulder overlooking a part of the bay that was away from the man entrance to Nassau. The fort that Captain Hornigold called home was at your back, protecting the island from any harm.

Right there you felt protected and safe in a way you rarely felt in Nassau. Right there, the spot you had claimed years ago as a place for you to stop and think, you felt sure for the first time in so long.

“Your note said I’d find you here.”

You looked over to watch Vane approach you on the small span of beach that sat through the trees. It was hidden from view so not many people knew it was there. It was the only place you could think to meet the captain if you wanted to try to keep this partnership a secret.

The water called your attention again.You stared out into the horizon and wondered if you stared long enough you might be able to see more.

“I love it here. It reminds me of the only time I’ve been on a ship was to come here to Nassau. I don’t remember much about the voyage but I do remember standing on the deck and thinking that this must be what it’s like to be a bird in flight.”

You heard the sand shift beneath his boots as he walked over and leaned against one of the other large boulders on this part of the beach.

“Did you bring me here to reminisce?”

You let a sad smile cross your features before you looked over at him.

He looked at ease, but you knew it wasn’t true. Vane was a viper ready to strike at any given moment. And this close, you were definitely within striking distance.

“I’ve preached about trust, but the truth is, you have every right not to trust me. Considering I lied to you when we met.” You shook your head and turned away from him, back to the sea. “But I have no option but to trust you. If any of the crews learned of this partnership, it would be hell for me. I can’t exactly claim neutrality if I’m working with you, can I?”

You reached into the pocket of your skirt and pulled out a folded piece of parchment which you handed over.

“Your lead. It has the locations of the start and end of their voyage as well as when and where they plan on making landfall for resupply. At the bottom you’ll see a list of a few of the things that have been declared on their manifest.”

He looked it over and you knew when he saw the list you mentioned because his eyes widened.

“This is quite the prize. If it’s true,” he added with a look that said he still wasn’t sure if he trusted you.

“I guess there’s one way for you to find out, isn’t there?” You looked away from him and out into the water once more. “I have buyers in line for some of the items if you’re successful, but if you still don’t trust me, take your prize to Eleanor Guthrie and see what she offers you for it.”

It was a dismissal, even if he didn’t realize. He folded the paper and tucked it into his shirt before he took a step away from the boulder, away from you. A few more steps and he turned back to look at you.

He didn’t say anything but you felt his gaze on you. Then, just as quietly as he had arrived, he disappeared back through the trees.

------

There were more clouds over the island than usual. A storm was on its way if the weather was any indication. You could only hope that The Ranger was on its way back to Nassau and out of the way of the storm.

You walked by the Guthrie’s warehouse on your way to drop off another order. Two men were unloading barrels of something and normally you wouldn’t have paid them any mind, but you recognized one of the men. He was part of The Ranger’s crew.

Perhaps you were wrong. It was possible, wasn’t it? There were hundreds of pirates on the island so it made sense that maybe you didn’t recognize them all.

But no, as you pretended to be engrossed in one of the street stalls, you overheard Mr. Clark mention Vane’s name directly to the men who were unloading the barrels.

It seems that Vane had decided to stick with Guthrie after all.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but like so many things lately, you had been caught off guard. For some reason you had put a lot of weight behind the idea that this partnership would go forward. While you’d never thought about making this step before, now you were actually interested in seeing where it could go.

And now it is over.

Maybe you’d have to look into making the offer to another captain. You would make the offer to Captain Flint but he had a connection with Eleanor Guthrie. Vane had had a connection to her, albeit a different type of connection, and you saw how that had ended.

It would have to be one of the other crews, but you hadn’t dealt with many captains directly so you’d need to do some research before you put your foot into it again.

With the sting of betrayal and… something else… from Vane going back to Guthrie, you went back to dropping off your order. With a few more coins in hand, you made your way back to your shop.

The door stuck a bit as you pushed it open. On the floor, as if it had been pushed under the seam, you saw a folded piece of parchment. You carefully picked it up. There was no one on the road when you had come this way so you weren’t sure who had dropped it off. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to leave their order if you weren’t here, but for some reason you doubted that’s what this was.

When you opened the paper, you found that it wasn’t an order at all. It simply listed a time for you to go to the spot on the beach that you loved. The spot where you had met Vane before he had gone off for his hunt.

Was this Vane’s handwriting? The writing of one of his men? It didn’t look like Rackham’s at least.

You checked the time and then slipped the note into your pocket. There was a chance that this was a trap, but you weren’t going to hide. You would just make sure to bring your pistol. Just in case Vane had any intention of violence.

------

The little hidden inlet where you were to meet Vane was empty when you arrived. The boulder you usually sat on had a good vantage point of the entrance so you sat down on it, your back to the ocean. The pistol sat under the folds of your dress, your hand on the hard line of the muzzle in case you needed to grab it in a hurry.

Your position meant that you saw Vane approach. You could actually see him consider your position on the boulder as he moved across the sand over to where you were.

“We’ll need to come up with a better system in the future.”

The hand that you had on the pistol tightened and then released. You were sure your face showed the confusion you felt.

“The future?”

He nodded as he leaned against the boulder across from you.

“Unless you want to continue tempting fate with me leaving notes at your shop. If we have a routine for where I’m to bring the merchandise, it would be better for you, wouldn’t it?”

The words all meant something but you had to take a minute to figure out what he was saying.

“Your men were selling your merchandise to Guthrie. I saw them when I was dropping off orders.”

He crossed his arms over his chest as he looked you over.

“It seemed like a good idea to split the haul between you and Guthrie in order to keep her from being suspicious until we figure out how we plan on playing this. I had the men sell a few things of rum, some fabric. Everything that was on the list you gave me is still on my ship in the bay, waiting for you.”

You wanted to laugh, but you weren’t brave enough. Not after the amount of adrenaline that had been coursing through your veins since you had received the note. Instead you closed your eyes and let out a breath.

“You’ll have to bring them in at night so that no one sees. I’ll give you the directions to where we’ll be storing them. I’ll alert my contact that you’re back in Nassau and he’ll come to handle the transport.”

This part of the deal had been discussed, but putting it into motion was a different thing completely. It was real, it was happening. Vane had stuck to his side of the deal after all.

You started to move off of the boulder but you’d forgotten the pistol in your skirt. It rolled off of the boulder and landed in the sand at the bottom. Before you could hop down and cover it up, Vane had bent down to pick it up.

“You brought a pistol to meet with me? What happened to trust?”

There was a smirk on his lips so at least he didn’t mind that you had come armed. He held it out to you with the muzzle pointed in his direction. You hesitated before you grabbed the pistol and put it back on the boulder beside you.

“I had seen your men at the Guthrie warehouse so I thought that you had decided not to use my services. There was the worry that perhaps you intended to exact a different form of payback for my lying to you.”

His eyes darted back down to the pistol and then to your face.

“Are you any good with that?”

You let out a laugh at that. He stepped back so that you could dismount from the boulder. Then you grabbed the pistol and tucked it back into the pocket of your dress, feeling the weight as a comfort now instead of a threat.

“I haven’t had many chances to try it on a person, but I’ve declared open season on rats in the store before. Not my brightest plan, but it worked.”

Vane did something then that startled you. He actually laughed. Of course you knew he was laughing at you and not with you, but right then you really didn’t mind.

He looked different when he laughed.

“I’ll have the men unload the items tonight. Where do they need to bring it?”

You explained how to get to the warehouse that you had acquired for this purpose. He seemed impressed by the lengths you’d gone to. Once everything was settled and ready, he gave a nod and turned to leave.

Without the apprehension you had when you first arrived, you let yourself turn to the ocean and stare out at it. The water glittered as the waves crashed in the distance. The storm was coming and it would be a rough one.

At least The Ranger was back in the bay. Hopefully not many of the crews were out on the water at the moment.

“You know, if you ever want to sail again,” Vane said from a ways away, startling you out of your thoughts, “you could come on The Ranger.”

With that he gave you another brief nod before he left through the trees.

Alone you tried to figure out where that had come from. Then you remembered what you had told him the first time you brought him here. He had apparently remembered it and gave it enough thought to offer for you to sail with his ship.

You weren’t sure you’d ever understand that man.

------

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” a familiar said from behind you.

You had been folding fabric that you had purchased for a new dress. At the statement, you turned and smiled at Billy. He stood in the middle of your store, his eyes roaming over you in a way that was familiar enough.

“I’ve been around. Nowhere else for someone like me to go,” you said as you finished folding the fabric.

He made his way over to you, the gentle stagger in his step telling you what the glazed look in his eyes had already said. It wasn’t often that he overindulged in alcohol, but when he did, he often found his way to your bed. You watched as he ran one finger across the fabric you held.

“That’ll look good on you,” he said as he plucked at the edge of the fabric. “Who are you dressing up for?”

“Who indeed,” you replied sarcastically as you tucked the fabric under your arm. “You’re drunk Billy Bones.”

He staggered into you, his hands on your shoulders and your waist. He leaned down and kissed the side of your neck, down a bit more before he redirected his mouth towards yours.

But you turned your face away from his so that the lips brushed your ear instead.

“Wha’?”

You pushed at his heavy form until he stepped back a bit. You saw the confusion on his face as you turned away from him fully.

“Go sleep it off Billy. Or go to the inn and get one of Mr. Noonan’s girls. You won’t find what you’re looking for here.”

You made your way to the hidden door that led to your rooms. Drunk or not, you could see that Billy had locked the door to the shop so you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing this spectacle.

“You’re kidding. You’re not kidding.” Billy stumbled after you, his hand reaching out for you but missing in the darkness of the rooms you entered. “Me being in my cups hasn’t stopped us before.”

With a few candles lit you could see Billy’s face as he looked you over. He did look confused, but there was something else there. Something else you had seen start to build over the last few encounters. Something that had been there ever since James Flint had made his statement to you that Billy was sweet on you.

“This isn’t a good idea Billy. This, you and me, it’s dangerous for me. I never cared before because nothing ever came of it, but that isn’t true anymore, is it?”

Billy finally got a hold on your arm, his touch gentle but firm enough to keep your attention on him. As if you could possibly ignore him.

“You told Flint that you didn’t blame me.”

“And I don’t. What happened to my store is the fault of The Ranger crew and it’s captain, the blame lies there. But you were the catalyst. We have enjoyed each other’s company for a while now but I think perhaps we would do best to take a step back from that.”

He shook his head, but you didn’t think he was telling you no. It seemed more like he was trying to clear his head.

“What we have–”

“Was sex,” you cut in, your voice firm as you pulled your arm from his grasp. “Good sex, fun sex, but just sex. And sex comes to an end. Please, Billy, don’t make this out to be more than it needs to be.”

He took a step back. The look on his face said that he wanted to continue, to try to convince you otherwise, but he finally sighed. His shoulders slumped a bit and he nodded his understanding.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”

You reached out and grasped his hand gently in yours.

“You have nothing to apologize for Billy. I promise.” Then you gave him a smile as you gestured towards the couch in the front room you were in. “Do you want to sleep it off here? Or do you think you can make it back to the beach in one piece?”

He laughed and rubbed his free hand across his face.

“I think I better try to make it to the beach at least. Or the inn at least,” he said with a shake of his head as if he didn’t want that at all. “Thanks for the offer.”

You released his hand and watched his back as he made his way out of the rooms and into the store. You waited until you heard the door shut before you went in to lock up behind him.

You did care about Billy and you probably always would, but it wasn’t what you thought it had been. The care you felt towards him was almost sisterly if you ignored the fact that you knew him intimately. One thing you knew for certain was that the care you had for him was why you didn’t want to lead him on anymore.

As you curled up alone in your bed that night, you fell asleep with the distant image of someone else in your mind. Someone with blue eyes, braids in his hair, and a rough hand clasped in yours.

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