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heyyyharry · 4 years ago

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Chapter 12: Shadow Man

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which they come home and so much has changed.

Word count: 5k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

A/N:

Did I just write 5k words in 2 days? Fuck yeah I did :) Sorry for being unproductive and depressed, that was very unsexy of me lmao. I’ve recovered from a long sleep. Don’t worry.

But hey, at least I finished this chapter before Nevada finished counting their votes :)

"I remember everything."

Y/N had waited too long to hear this. She'd made up scenarios in her head of how this would happen. Yet standing in front of him now, she didn't know what to do. He leaned in with a broad expectant smile, and she shoved him away as hard as she could.

"What was that for?" he gasped.

"How do I know you're real?" she hissed, taking a step back only to realise she'd fall into the water if she'd gone further.

Harry cocked his head to the side and studied her like a swordsman with his opponent. She thought he was about to attack, but once she'd regained her composure, she realised he was waiting for her to recognise him.

He extended a hand and moved in. She froze, second-guessing his intentions. To her surprise, he lifted her hand by the wrist and placed it against his chest. It wasn't until now that she noticed the wind had died and the snow had stopped falling. The forest was so still, like it was holding its breath, waiting to see how this scene would unfold.

"How about this?" he asked, knowing she could feel his heartbeats, so alive, so human, against her palm. "Your hand is cold," he chuckled, his voice breathy. She didn't answer, knowing the fact that she missed him too much could blind her judgement.

Harry's nose scrunched up in disappointment as he let out a breath. "How about...this?" And he let her touch his face. His cheek was warm, or her hand was just too cold. "Better?"

She pursed her lips, feeling the beginning of a smile as Harry closed the distance between them. He pressed his forehead to hers. And when she silently gave him permission with a single look, he leaned in and captured her mouth with his own.

He tasted like memories, like winter, like the forest that nearly killed them. And when he drew back, her eyes stayed shut until she could finally breathe again.

"You believe me now?" he asked, brushing his thumbs over her flushed cheeks.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, giggling. "You stupid bastard."

Harry started laughing, too. Then, he kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear, "Did you miss me?"

She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave a nod, her face buried into his wet shirt.

"Good. I missed you, too," he said, contently.

She pulled back. "Did you get your memory back when I kissed you on the cliff? Was that why you jumped?"

"No." He tucked her hair behind her ears. "I jumped because I loved you and couldn't bear the thought of losing you. I told you, didn't I? When you truly love someone, the love won't go away."

Y/N swore her heart grew so big her whole chest might explode. She smiled and pressed her fingers against his shoulder, his chest, touching all the places she'd missed. This was too good to be true. She needed to be reminded that he was real.

On her tiptoes, she kissed him softly at first, and then with an ache inside her, she pushed herself closer against him. His hands pressed against her ribs as if he wanted to leave little bruises everywhere his fingertips rested. Maybe for all the same reasons. To be certain that she was real.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he said, his eyebrows sloped down at the edges. "I don't want to hurt you anymore."

"You won't," she said.

He shook his head; he didn't believe her, either. "I don't want you to be afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid. Never of you," she claimed despite a wretched knot of fear growing in her gut. She was afraid of so many things, and at one point, that fear would consume her. But until then, she could pretend it didn't exist.

She folded herself into him as his arms draped around her waist, his breath hot at her neck. He placed his lips at the soft place below her ear and ran his fingers through her dripping hair, warming her skin with his.

"So you remember everything?" she asked after a long hug.

"Yeah," he told her, pulling back. His eyebrow arched, reminding her of the playful side of him she hadn't seen in so long. "I also remember you telling me that you were in love with Lance."

"Did I?"

"You did, Your Majesty," he teased. "You said we went on this excursion because Lance was sick and you had to save him."

Y/N pressed her fist against her mouth and nose as she chortled. "We're doing this for you, stupid! You were going to die."

Harry blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"When Mary messed with your memories, she'd taken away many years of your life and hers. So we had to find the lake." Y/N's smile dropped as she looked over her shoulder. "This lake. It was the only chance to reverse the spell and save you."

When she turned back to him, a grateful smile had taken over his face. "You did that for me?"

She lifted her shoulders. "And for Isolde. This water could save lives."

Harry scoffed as he placed his hands on his hips. "Just lie and say you did it only for me."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Fine. I did it only for you."

"As you should." He happily booped her nose. "Also, Lance?"

She knew he wouldn't let this topic go no matter how hard she tried to avoid it. So she sucked in a breath. "Promise you won't be mad?"

"I'll never get mad at you."

"Except for that one time you tried to kill me."

He lifted both of his hands. "That wasn't me, but good point."

Y/N laughed nervously before she thinned her lips, looking for the right words. This was much harder than she'd thought.

"I slept with Lance."

Harry's smile reduced to a firm line as soon as he heard the confession. The way he gaped at Y/N made her believe he could never trust her again. The ball of fear within her grew, fluttering inside her chest, becoming a hammer that could smash her apart.

"Oh, wow," was his response.

She took his hand and squeezed. "You promised you wouldn't be mad."

"I'm not," he told her. "I just...wasn't expecting that. I thought you were going to say you'd kissed him..."

"It was only once," she mumbled.

Harry regarded her with a sad look that made her wonder if he was feeling sorry for him, her, both of them, or Lance. She decided not to question as he cupped her cheeks again, lifting her face. "It's fine, darling. I understand how hard it must have been for you. I couldn't be there."

"I thought you were dead."

"I know."

His chest rose with each breath, his flat green eyes so wretchedly deep and dark that she could tell there was disquiet in him. There was more he wanted to say, questions he wanted to ask. She almost reached up on her tiptoes and forestalled him with her lips. She could blot out his thoughts, swallow down his worry and make it untrue. But right before she could find out what was on his mind, they were interrupted by a rustling sound coming from the trees. She clung onto his arms when the moonlight deer stepped out of the shadow.

Its eyes shone like two silver coins dropped into a black pool. It spoke with the melodic voice of a woman, "Come with me, Saviour. I'll show you the way out of here."

"Wait," Y/N said, stepping around Harry to get to the creature. "Are you the witch in the story? Did you die here?"

Silence.

"Please answer me. I need to have an explanation for these visions I've been having."

"Those are memories from your past life," said the deer. "You, my Queen, is a descendant of the first High King."

"I know."

"And blood calls to blood," the deer said. "King Lokesh. He was in love with the daughter of the moon."

The shadow man, Y/N thought. The witch's lover was the King.

"He failed her, though. His one true heir and one true love had died in this lake. Lokesh had cried for days on the lakeshore until one day, he drowned himself."

A chill coursed right through Y/N. She swore she could hear a distant cry. Or perhaps it was just the wind.

"And what did you mean when you said those were memories from my past life?"

The deer didn't answer this question. It turned quietly and trailed back into the forest.

Y/N returned her gaze to Harry, who was too baffled to make a sound. She gave him a reassuring smile and laced her fingers with his. "Let's go. We must get back to the castle."

Lance shut the window and padded over to the fireplace where stood the young woman with the burned face.

Mary kept her head down, holding both hands against her stomach as Lance looked her up and down. It was hard to read her. She'd shown no emotions when she'd seen George Wallace's dead body lying in the snow. Now standing here alone with Lance in this room, she looked nothing more than a scared little girl.

"You must believe me, Your Majesty," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "I'm not dangerous."

"If I thought you were dangerous, we wouldn't be talking like this," he answered calmly. "I know you haven't been honest with me."

Silence.

"I have questions for you, Mary."

"Y-Yes, Your Majesty. You can ask me anything."

"Swear to me that you'll answer them honestly."

"I swear, Your Majesty. I swear on my life."

"And your sister's life."

"My sister's dead."

"Not both of them are dead."

Mary lifted her screwed up face. She seemed hesitant at first. Then, quietly, she said, "I swear."

"Good. Now tell me, did you kill George Wallace?"

"No," Mary answered without a pause. "But I know who did."

"Who?"

"Calanthe."

Lance raised an eyebrow. "Calanthe?"

"She must have sent someone here to kill him. She needed a reason to start the war."

"And so she sacrificed her most trusted advisor?"

Mary's eyes sharpened at once. "Her most trusted advisor is the Monks now. The rest of the court are just her pawns." She bit down on the words before they came out, bitter and clenched. "I'm one myself, Your Majesty."

Though Lance couldn't have guessed it, and he hated himself for that, he wasn't at all in shock to hear her confession. "Why did she send you here?" he asked, stunned by how calm he sounded even though his thoughts were all tangled.

"I must convince Queen Y/N to travel to the North Mountain to find the lake."

"Which doesn't exist?"

"It does exist, Your Majesty. But only Queen Y/N can find it."

"Blood calls to blood," Lance murmured to himself. Mary probably heard him, because she gave a quiet nod. "So Calanthe wanted Y/N to lead her to it?"

Mary bit her lip as she nodded again. "But the forest protected the Queen. Calanthe's people weren't able to find her. At least...that was what George Wallace had told me. I was supposed to see him before he..."

She never finished that sentence.

"So are Harry's life and yours really threatened or was it another lie?" Lance asked.

"It was not a lie, Your Majesty. All magic comes with a price."

Lance pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath. He settled into a chair by the fire and sat with his legs spread and hands on his knees. "I've been having these visions," he said.

Mary was quiet for a moment. "They're real," she then told him. "They're not visions. They're memories."

The final word grabbed Lance's attention. His eyes snapped up to Mary's.

The girl somehow found the courage to take two steps nearer, her whole wretched face was visible in the firelight. "When my sister said that Queen Y/N would be the saviour, she was talking about the war between the North and the South. She predicted that there would be a war as vicious and bloody as the one that had divided one hundred kingdoms into four high courts. King Lokesh had led the war. He made a deal with the Gods, to trade his firstborn for victory. But...he fell in love with a witch. And his selfishness had cost him her life."

"The witch in the story."

"Yes. Lokesh failed to fulfil his agreement so he died an unknown death, and the Gods punished the people with unchanged seasons. That's why the North is buried in snow all year round, and its ruler would always face a tragic death and have to carry a life full of regrets. Queen Y/N, however, is the exception. Lokesh started the war. And she's going to end it."

Lance pondered over those words for a long moment. "But...what did it have to do with me? It doesn't explain the things I've seen."

"Do you know...do you know about reincarnation?"

"What?"

"Reincarnation," Mary repeated. "It's the belief that the soul, upon death of the body, comes back to earth in another body or form. It's usually the ones with unfinished business in their previous lives. They're given a second chance to fix their mistakes. Don't you find it strange? This...pull between you two? Does it sometimes feel like...like...like you've known her forever?"

Lance went numb for a second, then he burst out laughing. Mary gaped at him, speechless and appalled.

"Why should I believe you after you just admitted to being a spy?" he asked.

She swallowed. "You don't have to believe me, Your Majesty. But...I decided to confess because I'd realised that I couldn't keep doing it anymore. I'd die no matter what. Calanthe doesn't care about me." Mary buried her face into her hands and took an exasperated inhale. "My fate is bound to the Monks by my fire tattoo. I must die when they die. And I want them to. I want Queen Y/N to win this war."

A knock on the door pulled their attention away from the conversation. Lance rose from the chair as soon as he told the person to come in.

The door creaked open, and there was Jo, who was surprised to see Mary. "Can I speak with you, Your Majesty?" she asked Lance.

Lance nodded and dismissed her with a wave, saying he'd be right out there. When she left and shut the door, he turned back to Mary, who was now as pale as a ghost.

"Please don't tell Jo," she begged.

"I'm not going to," he said, holding his hands together behind his back. "But take my advice. Never keep secrets from the people you care about."

She said nothing, just staring at her feet. So he walked out without giving her a second glance. A lot would have changed tonight, not only for the two of them, but for every single soul in this castle.

Harry knew something had changed.

It wasn't the fact that the guards at the gate looked at him and Y/N as if they were two dead bodies washed in by the tides. It wasn't the fact that the servants whispered to each other in the corridor as he passed by. It wasn't the fact that he and Y/N were the ones in filthy clothes, and yet she still looked like a Queen while he had never felt more out of place.

Something had changed, because Y/N had changed.

He didn't expect her to be the same girl he'd fallen in love with after all the trauma she'd been through. But the change wasn't mental or physical. It was her heart. It was different now.

She'd saved him. But what if in saving him, she'd lost a piece of herself that she'd never get back?

The fear deepened inside Harry the moment the door burst open and Lance rushed into the room. Harry didn't have to be a mind reader to understand that look.

Without exchanging a word, Lance strode straight towards Y/N, who immediately crashed into his arms. Like two pieces of a broken heart, they held each other, scared that one or both of them might fade away as soon as they let go.

Y/N opened her mouth, about to say something, and suddenly Harry was terrified of what she was going to say. What she would admit in the heat of the moment.

But Lance didn't let her speak. He turned to a guard. "Call for the Russos and the Queen's lady-in-waiting," he ordered.

"Lance–" Y/N started.

Lance cut her off by telling Harry, "Welcome home," and took in Y/N's haggard appearance one last time before he left. Just as fast as he'd arrived.

Y/N clenched her fist against her heart. Devastated maybe. They'd been gone for two weeks which had felt like months. This wasn't the warm welcome she'd expected from someone she was going to marry.

"Y/N!"

Jo burst into the room, holding up her skirts as she ran towards Y/N and almost tackled the Queen to the floor. Kenny and Stefan were here, too. They were thrilled to hear that Harry had got his memories back and that they'd found the lake. All Y/N had to do was tell one guard at the gate and now the entire castle had found out.

She took her time answering their friends' questions and asked them questions about themselves. Harry knew she wanted to ask about Lance as well, but she didn't want to bring him up, or perhaps just not in front of Harry.

"We don't remember the way back to the lake," Y/N told Jo, Kenny and Stefan. "I tried to draw the map in my head as the deer led us back to the horses. I wanted to come back with our army to get the water, but as soon as we were out of the woods, neither of us could remember the directions. They probably don't want to be found."

"They?" asked Kenny.

Y/N didn't answer.

Harry knew she hadn't told him everything. After all, she was the only one who could communicate with the deer. He'd been too happy to be with her again to ask about it before. But after seeing her with Lance, it occurred to Harry that he might know much less than he'd thought he had.

Why was he anxious? They had returned home safely. There was no reason for him to feel like he was more likely to lose her now than before. Harry kept wondering to himself while watching Y/N laugh with the others.

She put her arms around his neck. He held her tightly, kissed her rose-shaped lips and pressed his nose into her hair. He didn't think she knew how much she upended him. The question he'd almost asked at the lake still lingered on his lips. He couldn't say it.

With her holding him, the dark of the forest felt so far away. Her fingertips blotted out the cold of the winter. She was the only thing that made him whole. It was better this way.

But Y/N, my love, how do you feel about him?

Y/N could not believe it.

She was fuming. Her thoughts were racing. She marched straight to the meeting room and demanded the guards to let her in. A queen should not be excluded from a meeting with her own court.

All courtiers rose as she entered, while Lance stayed seated in his high chair at the end of the long table. He only acknowledged her with a single glance.

"An emissary was killed in my castle and I had to hear it from my lady-in-waiting?!" Y/N shouted at the men in the room. Silence ensued. Frantic looks were exchanged.

"I told everyone not to tell you," Lance spoke, his voice as calm as she remembered.

Suddenly, she hated him.

She hated him for his attitude. For how cold he'd been to her when he'd seen her earlier in the throne room. Perhaps he wasn't happy to see her alive. Perhaps he'd been hoping that she'd been dead so he could take the throne.

Deep down, unfortunately, she knew he wasn't like that.

Every single time she tried to make him the villain so she wouldn't feel bad about what she'd done with him, those memories would start creeping back into her mind. She couldn't make sense of her own feelings then, yet she knew at that moment, when he'd kissed and touched her, her feelings for him had been true.

"You'd just gone through hell and back, my love," Lance said. "How did you expect me to expect you to take that news?"

Y/N scoffed as she crossed her arms. "So instead you expected me to take my rest and leave the fate of my kingdom to you men?"

"No." He lifted his shoulders. "We were just going to help you make the final decision. However, I'm glad you could join us."

Y/N furiously flopped down into the other high chair as Lance flicked his fingers for a general to continue speaking. When they locked eyes for the second time, Lance's expression relented like a silent apology.

"Lance, wait!" Y/N called as she chased after him after the meeting.

A lot didn't sit right with her, but the one thing she cared the most at the moment was what had happened to Lance in the two weeks she'd been away. He didn't seem like an entirely different person. This was the same Lance she'd met. But now that she was more familiar with the one who would spend long nights in her chamber and chase away her nightmares, she couldn't bear seeing him this way.

"What do you think we should do with Mary?" she asked, falling into steps beside him.

"Nothing. She's still helpful, and we still have no proof that she did it," Lance said as he marched on with his hands behind his back.

Y/N thought about leaving him alone as he didn't seem to want to talk. The problem was she needed to talk to him. Despite what he thought was going through her mind right now, she did care about him a lot.

"How...how have you been?" she ventured.

He gave her a quick glance, his eyes distant and nonchalant. "Tired," he said. "Anxious. Angry."

"Oh..."

"Not because of you."

Y/N came to a halt at the same time Lance stopped and turned to face her. "Tired because I haven't slept for days. Anxious because George Wallace is dead, and the innocent people of Isolde would have to pay that price. And angry because..."

She waited for him to finish, but he hesitated. "Of Calanthe?" she asked.

His mouth twitched as he shook his head. "Not just Calanthe. But don't worry about it."

"So Calanthe...and me?"

"No."

Just as Y/N thought he wasn't going to continue, he did. "And me."

Y/N bit her lip. "I'm sorry."

Lance chuckled as he gave a wave of dismissal. "As I said, don't worry about it."

It was hard not to worry when he'd been acting strange ever since she returned. She'd thought he'd be happy to see her, because she knew for a fact that she'd almost burst into tears when she'd seen him.

"I wish you'd be honest with me for once." The words slipped out before she could think twice.

Slowly, Lance spun around, his grey eyes dark and troubled. "I have not lied to you," he claimed. "Not even once."

Y/N folded her arms over her chest. "Not lying isn't the same as being honest."

Lance let out a scoff, running his fingers through his raven hair. Y/N lifted her chin as he came closer. So close it unsettled her.

"If you need me to spell it out," he said roughly, "you're either a fool or a liar yourself."

She swallowed a lump in her throat, trying not to let her anxiety take control. "How about you tell me what's happening to you and I'll tell you what I am?"

Lance considered her, his mouth curled to its favoured side. "The reason I'm angry at myself," he said, slowly, "is because there's going to be a war, and I know for a fact that I'm going to trade my life for yours."

Y/N stiffened at the answer. She parted her lips, unable to make a sound. Her reaction seemed to have amused Lance more than it hurt him. He cocked his head to a side and smiled mischievously. "So what are you, Y/N? A liar or a fool?"

Y/N thinned her lips, still speechless. She was rearranging her thoughts, trying to form proper sentences that wouldn't leave her looking stupid, when suddenly, Lance lifted a hand and flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder. Her body grew tense as he breathed out a laugh. "And since you want the truth, well," he said, without looking at her. "I love you."

"What?"

"I love you," he repeated, this time, with confidence.

The lump in her throat grew bigger as she tried to gulp it down. When she spoke, she almost didn't recognise her own feeble voice. "But? Finish your sentence."

"That was my sentence, silly." He grinned tentatively.

"There's always the second half," she mumbled.

It was sad but true. Not many people had told her those words without something else to it.

A frown transformed Lance's face as he stood taller, his jawlines sharpened in the firelight. "I love you," he said. "I know you don't love me in return. But some people do love without conditions, Y/N." There was a pause before a shadow of a melancholic smile crossed his regal features. "Perhaps I broke your heart in a different life," he said, "and now it's your payback."

She wasn't sure what he meant, yet she didn't get a chance to ask. The pressure against her lungs made it hard for her to breathe let alone speak. Without waiting for her response, Lance spun on his heels and left, taking long strides until he disappeared into the shadow.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles series

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blightarts · 4 years ago

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Blades of Order & Chaos

Chapter Title: Prologue

Word Count: 4362

Disclaimer: All rights belong to Pixelberry. This is my version for the upcoming sequel of Blades of Light & Shadow. I am not claiming this to be the canon story of the book. This is only written to increase the hype for the actual sequel.

MC/Pairing: Kite (Blue Elf Male MC) / Kite x Nia

Taglist: @princessstellaris @mechaspirit @brightningstar @cal-north @mahariel-theirin @lxdy-starfury @tyrils-star @imturaxamara @kelseaaa

It’s a silent night in the capital city of Whitetower. Each member of the group is settled in their bedrooms. Some are asleep while the others are restless. Kite just woke up with a gasp, panting and sweating after witnessing visions in his sleep. Nia shoots awake next to him with an immediate concern.

Nia: Kite? What’s wrong?

Kite looks around, catching his breath. He looks at his beloved, worried.

Kite: Nothing… just a bad dream…

Nia caresses his cheek and gives him a reassuring peck on the lips.

Nia: That’s right, just a bad dream. Now, come on. Let’s get some rest.

She smiles at him and Kite smiles back with a subtle uncertainty in his eyes. The two lie back down on bed, with Kite spooning Nia, before drifting back to sleep. Kite can’t help but recall the visions he saw; that strange hooded figure, the ruined burning city… and of course, the creature above him, huge and terrible…

Meanwhile, something similar happens to the rest of the group.

In Kade’s room, he’s laid down on his bed, unable to sleep. He begins recollecting a memory from when he was still an infant. He recalls being in a forest with the sound of people panting and another child crying being heard nearby. He then heard people talking frantically around him.

Voice 1: How did we not notice his presence for two thousand years?!

Voice 2: I do not know, but what confuses me is why he had to keep himself preserved instead of slaying his own nephew.

Voice 3: Well, it matters no longer. We must find a safe place and remain there long enough for Estel’s son to grow and become the hero this Realm needs.

Voice 1: Riverbend should be nearby. Let us seek refuge there.

The two voices continue to pant whilst running to their destination. This is all that Kade can remember, but the fact that the two voices mentioned Riverbend, mean that two of them could be his own parents and the other being Kite’s. He ruffles his hair, trying to know more.

Kade: Ugh… what does this all mean?!

In Mal’s room, he is sitting by the balcony, playing with a coin and gazing at the stars. He looks at his coin, giving him vivid flashbacks of the day before his retirement from the Thieves Guild. He recalls being inside an ancient dungeon buried in the Zaradun Wastelands. He then remembers his fellow thieves yelling in despair whilst trying to escape the dungeon as it was crumbling.

Thief 1: That… thing is alive!

Thief 2: How is that even possible?! This dungeon has to be at least… thousands of years old!

As the group approached the exit, the stone floor below them started shaking before it broke apart, causing most of the members to fall to their deaths. Mal, however, managed to leap out of danger in time, but as he was about to head out, a voice called for his help.

Fledgling Thief: Mister Volari!

Mal turned to see the fledgling hanging by the edge of the collapsed floor. He ran back to grab the young boy.

Mal: Hang on, kit! I got yo—

But before Mal could reach the fledgling, the floor crumbled once more, causing the young thief to fall to his death, much to Mal’s horror. As the ground in front of him started to crack, the former thief immediately ran out of the dungeon as it buries itself deeper beneath the sand. After returning to the Guild in Whitetower, Mal retired, overwhelmed by his Survivor’s Guilt, and began his life as an adventurer instead.

In the present day, he grits his teeth and clenches his fist, gripping the coin given to him by the fledgling he failed to save.

In Tyril’s room, the elf is asleep on his bed, dreaming peacefully, but that peace won’t last long. He begins experiencing a vision of the past, not his own past, but the history of House Starfury. Tyril finds himself in the middle of a battlefield.

Tyril: This place…

He attempts to familiarize his surroundings, seeing corpses of elves around him, with almost half of them having pale skin and blood on their lips. Tyril then recognized them as the cursed elven race, the Vhampyrs, prompting him to realize where he is.

Tyril: This is the Battle of Cragheart, where Lady Farin defeated the Beast of Blood…

He sprints across the battlefield, looking for his ancestor, Farin Starfury. Eventually, he does so and finds her, with the Blade of Sol in hand, standing face-to-face with the Beast itself, a large gargoyle-like creature with long black hair and crimson eyes. But what happened next shocked both Tyril and Farin as the Beast just spoke.

Beast of Blood: F-Fa-Fariiiiin…

Farin is caught off-guard for a second but quickly regains focus.

Farin: Do not distract me, you monster!

A fiery aura surrounds the elf as immense magical power surges through her, ready to strike. But the Beast continues to communicate with her.

Beast of Blood: V-Vla… dussss….

Once again, Farin lowers her guard as she sees the Beast’s eyes switching colors, from red to blue and vice versa. Soon, she begins to notice the features present in the Beast’s face as she recognizes its true identity.

Farin: B… Brother…?

Tyril widens his eyes at this revelation. He tries to reach out to Farin but was pulled back by an invisible force, causing him to jolt from his sleep with a gasp. He pants, processing what he just saw, before staring out the window in confusion.

Tyril: Lady Farin had a… brother…?

The elf attempts to shake off this thought out of his head before returning to his slumber.

In Imtura’s room, she is fast asleep but her troubled expressions mean that she might not having such a pleasant dream. Like Tyril, she’s having a vision, but instead of the past, it shows an event in the future. The orc finds herself back home, in Flotilla, but she doesn’t have full control over her own body. It’s almost as if she’s seeing the perspective of her future self. She then notices, in horror, Flotilla falling apart in flames, with other of her kind panicking.

Orc Guard 1: Get the children to safety! I’ll join you once we secure the royal family.

Orc Guard 2: Wait, is that…? The princess!

Orc Guard 1: Princess Imtura! Retreat to the Wra–

Imtura’s future self grits her teeth and turns to the guards.

Imtura (Future): Prioritize the citizens! Let me secure my own mother!

The orc guards reluctantly nod and follow the princess’s orders. As Imtura’s future self gets closer to the throne room, the present time Imtura’s vision start to get blurry, as if the dream is about to end.

Imtura (Present): Wait… no… bring me back… I need to know if my mother is alive! BRING ME BACK!!

But her cries do not matter as she wakes up in shock followed by deep breaths escaping her mouth. Imtura looks at her trembling hands, wondering if what she saw was real or if her mother was even safe should the events become true. She then repeatedly and gently smacks her hands against her cheeks.

Imtura: Come on, Imtura! It’s just a dream. Everyone is alright back home.

With a calming sigh, the orc lies back down and falls asleep a few minutes later.

And lastly, in the prisons of Whitetower, Aerin is seated at the corner of his cell, contemplating instead of sleeping. However, instead of thoughts about regret for his actions or vengeance upon those who imprisoned him, memories fill his mind, memories that date back to his childhood.

When Aerin was around six years old, he was seated on a bench in the castle’s flower garden. Beside him was his older brother, Baldur, who was nine years old at the time. Baldur was holding a stick and raised it up high, pretending to be a hero, before turning to Aerin.

Baldur (Past): One day, Aerin, we shall trek beyond the borders of Morella, and make peace with the surrounding kingdoms. With your wits and my strength, we will become kings that will lead our people to the right path!

Aerin smiled shyly but looked down.

Aerin (Past): I am uncertain, brother. You are the eldest, the heir to the throne. Technically, only you can become king while I just stand beside you as your advisor.

Baldur grinned as he ruffled Aerin’s hair.

Baldur (Past): Nonsense! I shall make it so that we both become kings.

Aerin looked up at his brother with wonder.

Aerin (Past): Really?

Baldur nodded.

Baldur (Past): I cannot do this alone. We’re brothers. We have to stick together.

As the memory fades, Aerin places a palm on his head, riddled.

Aerin: …Have I always had memory…?

The night goes on and our heroes are lost in thought after what they had just experienced.

A new day begins, brighter than the last, and the group gathers at the main hall of the castle, preparing to say their goodbyes and go back to their normal lives, but after what they’ve experienced the previous night, it’s too soon to depart just yet. On the way to the main hall, Kite and Nia are walking down the stairs, hand in hand. Kite tries his best to hide his worried expression from Nia, but the priestess is too occupied with a slight headache. She gently places a hand on her head as her vision starts to blur. Kite notices this.

Kite: You okay, Nia? You look like you’re starting to get lightheaded.

Nia meets Kite’s concerned eyes but a vision flashes before hers. In this vision, she is seeing through the perspective of someone from long ago. Nia finds herself in some sort of tunnel and in front of her is a dark figure with swords hovering around them as they approach her. The priestess sees herself raising her hands against this mysterious figure ready to blast them with the power of the Light. However, the figure was too elusive as they quickly evaded the blast before plunging one of their swords onto Nia, prompting the vision to cease and the priestess to gasp and fall onto Kite’s arms. The elf’s expression turned from concern to fear.

Kite: Woah, woah… what happened…? Are you okay?

Nia takes a moment to breathe while Kite helps her stand.

Nia: I don’t know… I… think I just saw… a glimpse of the past…

Kite: What do you mean? From when?

Nia shakes her head and shrugs in uncertainty. Kite just nods and kisses her forehead, not wanting to put much pressure into her after what she just went through. After regaining composure, the priestess sighs and looks at her beloved with a reassuring smile.

Nia: I’ll be okay. The bad things are all over now.

Kite hesitantly smiles back at her, thoughts of last night’s dream not being able to escape his mind.

Kite: …Yeah, they are.

Suddenly, they hear someone at the bottom of the stairs.

Mal: Hey, are you two just gonna get married and spend the rest of your lives on that step? We ain’t got all day.

Kite and Nia turn to see their friends waving at them. Kade and Imtura are snickering because of Mal’s joke while Tyril shakes his head in disappointment. Threep and Loola flutter towards Kite and Nia with grins on their faces.

Threep: Come. There’s much to do.

The couple nods at the two nespers before descending the stairs to meet up with the rest of the group. As all of them head towards the main hall, Kite notices troubled faces on his friends, realizing that they must’ve seen something similar to what he saw last night. Knowing that they might be hesitant in sharing, he decides to share his experience.

Kite: Guys, I have something to say…

Kite halts behind his friends as they all turn towards him.

Tyril: Is something the matter, Kite?

Kite grits his teeth but reluctantly speaks up.

Kite: I don’t think we’re done yet… There’s still more about the Shadow Realm we do not know.

Everyone tilts their head on confusion.

Kade: What do you mean?

Imtura: Yeah, we kicked the Dreadlord and his goons’ asses while we were there.

Kite shakes his head.

Kite: It’s not just them… There’s something else in that damned place…

He clutches himself, shivering while the thought of Whitetower in ruins fills his mind. Nia steps up to hold and comfort him.

Nia: Kite, is this about that bad dream you had last night?

Kite looks at her and nods in terror.

Mal: What exactly did you see?

Kite gulps, trying not to hurl.

Kite: I was warned about a great danger coming from the Shadow Realm… After wielding the Blade of Light in there, I seemed to have attracted the attention of a far more threatening foe… the Empire of Ash, if I recall.

Threep and Loola’s eyes start to widen in dread.

Loola: D-Did you just say…?

Threep: The Empire of Ash…?

The group notices the nespers shivering in fear, as if they know more than what the others think.

Kade: Wait, what is the Empire of Ash?

Threep gulps and tries to speak but is too horrified. Loola steps up and speaks up instead.

Loola: The Empire of Ash is an ancient enemy that preceded the Shadow Court. Some stories say that they had fought against the first generation of the Elven Empire, but others say that they are the Elven Empire itself before being usurped by their foes who fought for righteousness. Whichever you look at it, they are far worse and more dangerous than the Shadow Court, nay, even the Dreadlord himself.

Threep coughs and finally talks.

Threep: And if Kite is saying that they are coming once again, then this Realm is in great danger.

Tyril: How come I’ve just heard of them now? Their history should’ve been written in the elven archives.

Loola shakes her head.

Loola: All records about the Empire had been erased during the war against the Shadow Court. All of them, gone.

Mal: And since you and Threep are the only ones from that era, only you two knew about it?

The two nespers nod.

Imtura: What else do you know about the Empire?

Threep: I heard that the Empire was led by the one called “Fateseeker”, an individual with unimaginable power, able to lay waste on a civilization within minutes.

Shivers travel down on the group’s spines upon hearing what Threep said.

Kade: How did the Empire fall?

Loola: Rumors say that a single elf who wielded the power of both Light and Shadows was able to push back their forces and eventually, banish them in the Shadow Realm.

Threep: The elves of our time believed that the Dreadlord and the Shadow Court were merely just pawns of the Empire.

After this huge revelation, everyone in the group is taken aback and tries to process what they’ve just heard. Gritting his teeth, Kite stands up straight and walks past the group.

Nia: Kite? Where are you going?

Kite: The prisons. I’m paying him a visit.

The group realizes who Kite is referring to and goes after him.

Mal: You sure, kit? We still don’t know if you’re dream is just… well, a dream.

Kite: I’m certain. He’s spent twenty years of his life in the Shadows, so he must know something about the Empire.

Soon, the group arrives in Whitetower’s lockup, standing in front of Aerin’s cell. He scoffs at them.

Aerin: Have you come here to mock me before you all return to your normal lives? That’s petty, even for me.

Kite: We’ve come here to ask you a few things.

Aerin raises his head with a smirk.

Aerin: Oh? What more can you ask from me? The Dreadlord and the Shadow Court are gone. You have nothing else to interrogate out of me.

Kite: What do you know about the Empire of Ash?

The prince raises an eyebrow.

Aerin: Ah, I see. I thought the Dreadlord was just exaggerating when he said that he serves a far greater power than his own.

He stands up and walks up to the bars of his cell.

Aerin: Alright then, Kite. I shall entertain you.

He then smirks before continuing.

Aerin: While planning for the Shadow Court’s return, the Dreadlord has mentioned about the Empire a couple times. He said how he needed a vessel who is prominent in Light Magic in order to act as the beacon, signaling the Empire.

The prince turns to Nia, who backs away while Kite steps between them. Aerin chuckles and continues.

Aerin: Even with the Dreadlord’s demise, he still was able to fulfill his goal… all because of your foolishness.

Insulted, Kite attempts to charge at Aerin but his friends hold him back. The former prince just laughs before sitting at the corner of his cell.

Aerin: That is all I can offer you, Kite. If you want to know more, you could pay the dwarves of Zaradun a visit, that is if you can find one at all, since they’ve been missing prior to the rise of the Shadow Court.

Kite grits his teeth before breaking out of his friends’ hold and taking his leave. The rest of the group follow him.

Kade: Kite, where are you going?

Kite: The Zaradun Wastelands.

Nia grabs Kite’s arm and stops him in his tracks.

Nia: Kite, why are you so intent on stopping the Empire?

Kite breaks into tears.

Kite: Because it’s my fault why we have to deal with them in the first place!

The group falls silent as the elf continues.

Kite: I brought the Light upon the Shadow Realm. The Empire is returning because of me. I have to make up for my mistake.

Kite clenches his fists as they tremble.

Imtura: Why is it that there’s something else you’re not telling us?

Kite gulps.

Tyril: Kite, tell us. Please.

Kite sighs and gives in to his friends’ pleas.

Kite: I… saw something else after being warned of the Empire…

Threep: What was it?

Kite looks around Whitetower then at his friends.

Kite: Whitetower… in ruins… burning… while a dragon looms over it…

There was a long silence as the group stares at Kite in horror.

Mal: What did you just say…?

Mal, knowing that his sister lives in the capital, grabs Kite’s collar.

Nia: Mal, what are you doing?!

Mal: What about my sister, Kite? Is she still alive in this dream of yours?

Kite doesn’t answer, uncertain of the fate of Whitetower’s inhabitants, further angering Mal.

Mal: ANSWER ME, KIT!

Tyril grabs Mal’s arm and gives him a concerned look. The rogue comes back to his senses before letting go of Kite.

Mal: I’m sorry, Kite. I don’t know what came over me… it’s just… I’ve already lost enough… I don’t wanna lose anyone else.

Kite shakes his head.

Kite: It’s okay. I understand your frustration. I think… we just need to clear our heads and plan out what we should do next.

As the rest of the group nods at what Kite said, Imtura is at the back, trying to connect the destruction of Whitetower in Kite’s dream and the destruction of Flotilla in her dream.

Nia: Imtura?

The orc is snapped back into reality as she looks at the group staring at her.

Imtura: I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m concerned for my family as well.

The group nods at what she said before Kade steps up with a suggestion.

Kade: Okay, come on. Group hug. We need to keep our spirits up in the fight ahead.

Kite smiles at his brother before placing his arm over his shoulder. The elf looks at the rest of the group.

Kite: Kade’s right. We’re all in this together.

Nia joins and places her arm around Kite. Tyril joins right after.

Nia: No matter the threat, we can handle it.

Tyril: We have done it once; we can do it again.

The four of them smile at Mal and Imtura, waiting for them to join. The rogue and orc roll their eyes before reluctantly joining the hug.

Mal: You all are hopeless optimists.

Imtura: But the same can be said for the both of us.

As the group laughs at the comment, Threep and Loola land on Kite and Nia’s shoulders, respectively.

Threep: We are all still millennia away from defeating the Empire…

Loola: But that shouldn’t stop us from saving the realm.

Kite looks at the determination present in his friends’ faces.

Kite: Let’s get this done!

Everyone: YEAH!

Suddenly, the moment was cut short by an explosion heard from a distance.

Mal: What was that?

The group turns around the corner to see smoke coming from the castle. They rush back towards it, curious and worried as to who or what caused the explosion. Upon reaching the throne room, the group spots King Arlan, surrounded by his guards, standing face-to-face against a dark figure. Nia’s heart sinks as the mysterious figure looks exactly the same as the one she saw in her vision. She begins to collapse but Kite catches her in his arms.

Kite: Nia, are you okay?

While the group helps Nia on her feet, King Arlan speaks with the dark figure.

King Arlan: Who are you?! And what business do you have against my kingdom?!

The figure unsheathes their sword and conjures five copies of it before having the swords hover around them. Tyril immediately recognizes the unique magic used by the figure.

Tyril: Impossible. How is he alive after all these years?

Mal: You know him, elf boy?

Tyril grits his teeth and unsheathes his own sword.

Tyril: He is a former member of the Shadow Court… Sir Laundsellyn, the Deserter!

The figure turns towards Tyril and grins.

Sir Laundsellyn: “Deserter”, eh? I am grateful that elven history gave me quite a title.

While Imtura and Mal join Tyril and unsheathe their weapons, Kite hands Nia to Kade.

Kite: Take care of her.

Kade: Don’t worry. Kick Laundsellyn’s ass.

The elf grins at his brother before joining the others.

Imtura: What’s this guy’s deal?

Tyril: Prior to the purification ritual two thousand years ago, all of the members of the Shadow Court were cornered and eventually banished to the Shadow Realm… All, but one.

Mal: Sir Laundry boy?

Tyril nods.

Tyril: He was tasked with hunting down the Priestess of Light and succeeded but was never heard from again when he was supposed to join the other members of the Court during the final battle of the war.

Imtura: Oh, so he’s not a “deserter”. He’s a coward!

Sir Laundsellyn scoffs.

Sir Laundsellyn: Spare me your insults. I’d known from the beginning that the Court will fail. So, I fled, avoiding my banishment. I was thinking far ahead than any of them, even the Dreadlord himself.

He starts walking towards the King.

Sir Laundsellyn: My purpose now is to serve a far greater power… the Empire of Ash…

Anger rises among the group upon hearing the mention of the Empire.

Imtura: Anything we should know about this guy, Tyril?

Tyrils shakes his head.

Tyril: No, the elven archives did not mention a lot about Laundsellyn, except only for being part of the Court and his betrayal.

Kite: I guess we’re on our own here.

Tyril: We need a distraction.

Kite smirks as he puts a hand on his waist, but Mal grips the elf’s shoulder.

Mal: Don’t. You. Dare.

(Author’s Note: Kite’s not much of a Seductive Skill combatant . 😅)

Kite chuckles.

Kite: Don’t worry. I’m not that type of fighter.

He then holds out his hand, materializing the Blade of Light in his grasp.

Kite: I’ll take him on easily.

Mal, Tyril and Imtura grin.

Mal: Oh, right. I forgot we have that now.

Tyril: An agent of the Shadows like him won’t stand a chance against your Blade.

Imtura: Go get ‘em!

Kite nods as he dashes towards Laundsellyn who turns to him.

Sir Laundsellyn: Oho? What do we have here?

Kite channels the power of the Light present within the Blade before swinging it at the former member of the Shadow Court.

Kite: This is your end!

However…

CLANG!

…Sir Laundsellyn stops the Blade with only his finger, leaving everyone in utter shock and silence.

Tyril: …T-That’s… not possible…

Kade: How?! He’s a soldier of the Shadow Court!

Laundellyn smirks and pinches the tip of the Blade.

Sir Laundsellyn: Ah, I’ve been wondering where my Blade has been all this time.

He then kicks Kite on his gut, causing him to loose grip on the Blade as he is propelled across the throne room.

Imtura: Kite!

Mal rushes to Kite’s aid while Tyril and Imtura ready themselves.

Mal: Kit, are you okay?

Kite coughs and glares at Laundsellyn.

Kite: Your Blade? What are you talking about?

Laundsellyn chuckles as he holds the Blade properly with its hilt.

Sir Laundsellyn: The Blade of Light has always been an heirloom to my House. Being a descendant of the one who wielded the power of the Light and Shadows, I cannot be harmed by the Blade.

Suddenly, something comes to Threep’s mind, as if he’s starting to remember a lost memory.

Threep: I remember now… You’re the prodigal son… of the House I once served!

Laundsellyn spots Threep behind Kite and squints his eyes.

Sir Laundsellyn: Tch! I thought I made sure you’d forgotten everything about my House, Pompedorfin.

Threep hisses at him.

Threep: Mind your tongue, traitor! You were the reason why House Nightbloom became extinct!

Upon hearing the mention of his own House, Kite’s eyes widen.

Kite: Threep, what do you mean?

Loola: Threep once told me about an heir to House Nightbloom, who is slothful, despite being skilled in almost everything. He stole their heirloom and left without a trace in pursuit of his own selfish goals.

Laundellyn sighs.

Sir Laundsellyn: Ah, yes, the nostalgia of those days...

He scoffs as the power of the Shadows surge through him.

Sir Laundsellyn: Well, if you must know… My real name… is Lucius Nightbloom.

----- END OF CHAPTER -----

21 notes · View notes

devnicolee · 5 years ago

Text

The Chosen Ones (4)

Word Count: 10,377

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

“What is going on with you? I mean... I have never known you to be this reckless," the king of Wakanda exclaimed as he wore a whole in the carpet of his sister's room, pacing back and forth endlessly.

Asha rubbed her forehead, shame and frustration growing as her brother's lecture drew on minute by minute.

"T'Challa, I said I was sorry. I do not need a lecture. Believe me, I feel horrible enough as it is!" She tried to say.

First M'Baku... now him? She couldn't take this much disappointment from both of them in the same evening, her heart couldn't handle it. She felt a small, soft squeeze to her hand, knowing it was moral support from her sister. Asha smiled weakly but her eyes didn't leave their dead stare into her lap, she didn't want to look at any of them.

"Apparently you do! I asked you if you wanted out of this engagement, I gave you an out. But now, there are certain responsibilities and obligations that you can't ignore just because you feel like it. And it is just," he took a moment to catch his breath before continuing, "it is highly inappropriate as a new council member and advisor to create a potential scandal of this magnitu-"

"Yes, I am a cheater and a horrible person. The worthless trouble-making, embarrassing liability to the great Panther Tribe. I get it! I have heard it several times today and every day for most of my life, I do not need any more reminders from you!"

Asha's voice raised to match her brother's and in anger she leapt off her bed, standing toe to toe with him. She could feel the rings on her hands working overtime to tame the beast within as her hurt from the last few hours transitioned to anger.

"Ok, ok! Asha, it is alright. No one is saying any of those things. T'Challa certainly doesn't think them," Nakia inserted quickly, walking over and placing a soothing hand on the young princess's back.

The two siblings were no stranger to a squabble or two but this was beyond both of them. Unlike T'Challa, Nakia could see that all of this was a symptom of a deeper issue and they would not get to the bottom of it by shaming her choices. She sent a silent but reproachful glare T'Challa's way as she tried to calm Asha down enough to continue. "Perhaps you should go. We will talk to her," she added quietly, seeing the fractures the emotionally-charged evening had sent through the young princess.

T'Challa hesitated, now understanding that he had misstepped and feeling as though an apology was due. But Nakia simply shook her head and motioned toward the door. He nodded before motioning for Okoye to follow and quickly exit the room.

As soon as her door slammed shut, Asha felt the weight of the day heavy on her shoulders, causing her to sink down to the floor by her bed. She buried her head in her hands as she tried to stop more tears from falling.

Haven't we cried enough today?

"I would like to be alone, please," she whispered, muffled but still clear enough for the remaining two occupants of her bedroom to hear.

"No, we are not leaving you like this. Talk to us. What happened?" Nakia asked as she crouched in front of Asha.

Asha didn't move or attempt to acknowledge her question. She knew what they really wanted and that was to unpack that kiss... the now infamous kiss. But what would Asha say? How could she explain it when she was hundreds of miles from understanding the complexity of her feelings toward M'Baku. She always thought love was supposed to be simple, easy, but this was anything but that. In two days, she and M'Baku managed to entangle themselves in a web of all those emotions and that kiss was right smack in the center. Asha did not have the capacity to unravel it all tonight.

Asha couldn't tell if she kissed him because she longed for affection, was angry at the guy she was supposed to be with, was desperate for a different life, actually loved him or because she just wanted to feel something other than sadness. Or if it was some combination of all those things? All of them came with an airplane worth of baggage that could not be reduced to the carry-on sized explanation they desired.

"Nothing happened... M'Baku was comforting me and we got caught up in the moment. That is it."

The women both knew she was lying, that she just wasn't willing to share. But still, they persisted.

"Come on, Asha. We know you. And w-we understand what you are going through but you have to talk to us and let us in. Let us help you."

Asha scoffed, her sister's ignorance almost made a laugh escape from her lips,.

"You don't understand. How could you possibly? Neither of you know what it is like to be despised or treated like an embarrassment. You have never spent a single moment in your lives as I have. You don't get it and you never will!" She lashed out at them. She stood up and turned her back to them, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Please leave. Now. I wish to be alone."

"Asha.."

"Please do not make me have Alexis forcibly remove you. Just go, please."

The shaky begging in her voice did the trick, leading both women out of her door. Asha slid back to her spot on the floor, tears making their silent trek down her face.

She wished she had never allowed T'Challa to convince her to leave this room in the first place, wished she had never stepped a foot in the soft snow of Jabariland, and wished her eyes had never fallen on him. Then she would be happy... or at least, as happy as she was before and that would still be enough. She would be officially engaged in a week, existing in ignorance’s bliss. She would never know what true freedom tasted like, never know what true love felt like and so she wouldn't have to mourn it as she does now.

Sadness morphed into anger and frustration at everyone who forced her out of her safe isolation but didn't warn her that once you have seen light, it is impossible to go back to darkness.

****

Asha tried to put a smile on her face as she sat in silence in the council meeting, but it was difficult to hide sadness when it is as deeply rooted as Asha's was. Your smile can be as bright as the Sun but it always still shows through in your eyes. She just wanted to retreat back to her room, not see him or Hasani who both sat in the circle of chairs branching out from her brother's. She also just hated being in these meetings to begin with, still feeling as though she didn't belong. It did not help that half of the circle... her mother, Elder Shani and her son all gave her cold reproachful looks that basically told her she didn't belong if she dared give her opinion. And now to make it worse, she felt like there was a giant, "I am a cheater" sign glowing above her head.

She didn't quite understand why she felt so guilty, she knew Hasani never lost sleep over cheating on her. And his indiscretions were far worse than a simple kiss. But still, as she stole glances at both men, she felt guilty: guilty for cheating and guilty for bringing M'Baku into this mess. And she supposed her life's goal was to not be as carefree and uncaring as Hasani, certainly not the marker of a good person.

But she most wanted to talk to M'Baku, wanted to apologize or explain herself or... well, she did not quite know what she wanted to say to him. They said so much last night while simultaneously leaving so much unsaid. She questioned whether words would even matter at this point. But she felt the pull and desire to say something either way, just to hear the comfort in his voice, ensure that that comfort was still there. There was a stab of regret every time she considered the fact that she may have destroyed their friendship over a kiss, a stab that felt as painful as a physical wound in her body. But those were the consequences, she supposed. A moment of weakness in exchange for one of the few positive relationships in her life.

"We cannot accept these terms. This agreement with the Jabari is an insult to your father's legacy and all who have fought to control the spread of such a disease in our borders," Elder Shani almost shouted from her seat in front of her brother.

The argument ensuing around her snatched Asha's head out of the clouds and back down to Earth where she found the council entrenched in a loud and unruly argument. Asha quickly realized that the Elders had found the one clause in the treaty Asha buried deeply and had simply hoped would go unnoticed. But it seemed little got past Elder Shani, who likely read through it with a fine-toothed comb to find a mistake on Asha's part.

"This treaty is about respecting the Jabari's way of life and integrating it into ours. They have a different respect and custom for mutants or the Chosen, as I believe Lord M'Baku has referred to them. After conversations with my sister and Lord M'Baku, I will not ask them to change their customs and their ways. He has assured me that they will not be a threat to the ways in which we govern down the mountains."

Asha and M'Baku gave her brother a side eye, knowing that he pulled that explanation out of nowhere. That part of the treaty was added last minute after M'Baku expressed concerns over integrating the Jabari's Chosen into a regressive society. She chose not to bring it up and prolong the talks, figuring her brother would not notice a clause buried so deeply in the treaty's many pages.

"And what if that changes? What if one of them comes down here and creates trouble?"

"Asha, you met with the people of Jabariland, saw their customs in practice. What do you think?"

Asha gulped, mouth going dry at the idea of having to defend mutants to the most hostile person in the room, the person who also knew her secret. She glanced at her brother out of the corner of her eye whose smirk clearly told her that this was a problem of her creation that she now needed to fix.

"T-t-the Chosen are a peaceful group of Jabari. They are no different than the non-gifted among them. They have absolutely no reason to fight or create trouble for us down the mountains. Their goal is to use their p-powers to help advance the tribe. It is my belief that they will not be an issue for us."

"And what if their idea of advancing the tribe is overthrowing us and ensuring Lord M'Baku sits on the throne?" Another elder chimed in.

M'Baku laughed loudly, as if the idea of wanting the throne was too preposterous to take seriously.

"I wanted to be king of Wakanda once, yes, it is true. However, since then I have saved your rightful king, risked Jabari lives to overthrow a usurper, and put that King back on his throne. Without my people and I, Killmonger would still be alive and sitting in that chair. Seems like an awful lot of work when I could have just taken the Heart-Shaped Herb to become King myself and left King T'Challa to die. My interests no longer lie in leading this backwards nation."

"'Backwards?'" Elder Shani shouted, outraged at the insult. "How dare you?"

"Yes, backwards. A country that has all the resources in the world, offers all the opportunity in the world to its people and still finds a way to hold people back, to limit the power and ability of the more gifted among you. You can call us savages and insult me, I know what some of you say behind my back. But at least, the Jabari treat their fellow citizens with the respect Hanuman demands. When Bast calls you all home to the Plains... Will you be able to say the same?"

"Enough! That is quite enough," T'Challa called, causing all the tempers to quiet down significantly. "Elder Shani, as always, I appreciate your counsel. However, the treaty is final. The Jabari will not be forced to comply with any law within the Mutant Regulation Act. Lord M'Baku and the Jabari proved themselves to be a loyal tribe of Wakanda ten times over and I will not have that loyalty questioned in this room again. I reserve my right as king to revisit any aspect of the treaty if, and only if, it becomes an issue."

He and M'Baku shared a respectful head nod before T'Challa continued.

"Thank you all for a productive meeting. Unless there are outstanding matters, we will reconvene next Saturday prior to the start of the Festival. This year's festival will begin Sunday night at the Falls for the announcement of my sister's engagement and the King’s Exhibition. Thank you all. Wakanda Forever."

At the mention of her engagement, Asha glanced at M'Baku and she wished she hadn't. His body was rigid and she could almost see the rage radiating off him into the space.

"Wakanda Forever," they all replied in unison, as the meeting broke up.

Asha turned around to pick up her tablet and notebook, mainly to avoid the death glare she was receiving from Elder Shani across the room. When she turned back, the older woman was in a huddled discussion with another elder and her mother. Their hushed whispers could not reach her ears but she knew it was likely nothing good.

She kept her eyes trained on the floor as she walked, until she ran into the hard, broad back of someone.

"Oh, I am sorry! I didn't see you th- M'Baku," she started to apologize to the unknown person until they turned around and she came face to face with the man she was desperately trying to avoid. She wondered if it would have been less painless to run into Elder Shani as she looked into his eyes, finding no more admiration and love there.

"Yes your highness?"

His voice matched his eyes... cold and despondent, everything she didn't expect from him. She felt a sense of deja-vu to how he treated her prior to coming to the mountains. She remembered how it felt to be on the receiving end of his coldness and not understand why. She understood why now, but that didn't dampen the sting.

"U-uh, w-well I-I wanted to s-speak with you, actually," Asha stammered as she adjusted to all the things she was not used to from him... his coldness, formality and harsh tone. The silence between the stretched out as she tried to figure out what to say.

"Well?" he barked. "I do not have all day, I am in a rush to return home."

His tone hit her like a slap in the face. "N-never mind then, I hope you have a safe journey home."

He nodded and saluted her with a pained look on his face before turning to head back down the hall. Her eyes glistened slightly, she felt the pressure of tears building behind them but she tried to push those emotions down. They both made their choices and here laid the consequences, she would learn to deal with them.

M'Baku thought his feet could not carry him back to his carriage fast enough. He wanted nothing more than to flee this palace, and retreat to his own home to sulk and nurse his bruised heart. He thought they had started to build something... something beautiful and as quickly as it was put together, it crumbled.

"M'Baku!"

He grimaced as he heard the unmistakable timbre of his king calling after him. He wanted so badly to ignore him and if this was a time in the past, he would have. But he respected T'Challa, and was growing to see him as something resembling a friend. So he pushed down his annoyance and heartbreak to speak to his King, praying to Hanuman that this was a short conversation. He almost jumped clean out of his skin to find the King directly behind him instead of down the hall.

"My king?"

"Leaving so soon?" T'Challa asked, his tone pleasant and airy, not like someone addressing the man whom he found making out with one of his younger sisters the day prior.

"Yes, I have matters to attend to at home. What can I do for you?" M'Baku decided to cut the formalities short, he knew T'Challa did not stop him for that.

T'Challa nodded, his face descending into a more serious look. "Are you in love with my sister?"

He eyed the look of surprise that passed across M'Baku's face before adding, "I speak to you not as King but as an older brother who just wants his sister to be happy. There is no wrong answer here. Are you in love with her?"

"Yes," M'Baku replied shortly. There was not much else to say, this was all very simple to him.

T'Challa gestured forward, allowing the man to continue his journey toward his carriage as they walked.

"My sister always pretends to be happy, never complains about her horrible treatment at the hands of my parents or her regulation to being a prisoner in her own home. She always tries to hide it but it shows... it always shows in her eyes. They hold a certain sadness, or at least they have every single day for the last 15 years. The only other person on this Earth who I have seen with eyes like that died a few weeks ago. I couldn't save him, couldn't undo the injustices my family doled out upon him. But I... I can save Asha."

"Forgive me, my King. But I don't understand what you want from me?"

"When my sister walked off the Talon 24 hours ago, she looked like a completely different person. Joy and happiness radiated off her like light from the Sun. It was the first day I looked at my sister and didn't see that sadness. I do not have to be as smart as Shuri or as intuitive as Nakia to know who brought that about. My sister is in love with you. I want you to know that before you get in that carriage and resign to writing her off for the rest of your life. She is stuck between her heart and obligation, what she wants and what she has been conditioned to believe she should have. And Shuri and I are trying to help her but... As a brother, I-I am just asking you not to give up on her just yet."

As he finished, they reached his carriage. T'Challa did not wait for M'Baku to respond, he simply saluted him before turning on his heels to tread the same path back into the palace. Meanwhile, M'Baku just stood there staring after him for a while, another plan to forget Asha slowly sinking down the drain.

****

"M'Baku!"

He tore his eyes from the mountains, ready to snap at the man foolish enough to interrupt him, only to find N'Danna standing not too far behind him. N'Danna looked annoyed as if he had been calling the chief's name for a while. M'Baku clearly hadn't heard him, trapped in a cycle of his own thoughts, the light wind blowing past, and the nighttime jitters of the forest.

He barely acknowledged his second-in-command, knowing his best friend would just come and occupy the empty spot next to him. And sure enough, he felt his presence beside him as the man dusted the snow off the odd-shaped, massive boulder M'Baku was currently sitting on and sat down beside him.

"You are a hard man to find since returning from the Golden City," N'Danna mused as he took his cue from his chief and began staring at the mountains in front of him.

N'Danna supposed they were really just staring at nothing. He knew mountains were there, visible when the sun was high in the sky. But in such darkness, the best they could see was a vague outline. His gaze fell down to the village below that was still bustling with activity, lights branching out like veins in the darkness.

"How long have you been out here?"

"Since the sunset."

"You have turned into somewhat of a sunset enthusiast. And why did you decide to come out here on the coldest night of the winter?" N'Danna inquired.

M'Baku shook his head, "I don't know. I have come here every night for the last three days. I say I am not going to come and still I find myself out here all night. Not sure what answers I expect to find out here though."

N'Danna nodded, both men leaning back and laying against the rocks to look up at the midnight sky and twinkling stars.

"This is a good spot to find answers I suppose. And being here probably makes you feel closer to her, right?"

The two men turned to each other and N'Danna let out a light chuckle at the disgruntled look on his friend's face.

"I didn't even get that from your thoughts this time. Just an observation. You have been this way for the last few days, ever since you got back." Silence fell over the two for a moment before N'Danna spoke again. "Talk to me, M'Baku. What is going on with you? I have never seen you like this before."

When he didn't say anything initially, N'Danna assumed he opted to ignore his question. It wouldn't be the first time his friend chose to ignore things instead of addressing them. And so, after a few minutes of quiet, N'Danna returned his attention to the barely visible mountains ahead of them. He was surprised when he finally heard a response minutes later.

"I fell in love with her," M'Baku stated out of the blue. N'Danna wished he could see beneath the Earth's surface, and get confirmation of his suspicion that Hell had indeed frozen over at this admission. M'Baku had been with many women in his 30 years of living and had never so much as uttered a word similar to "love" toward any of them, such a word was vacant from his vocabulary. Now N'Danna understood, he got it. His poor chief had fallen fast and hard for the first time and was left out in the cold, a cold he was not accustomed to.

"And s-she rejected me. I was j-jus- And now she is about to be engaged... engaged to a man wh-" words failed him as he tried to verbalize how truly frustrating this all was. But his words resembled his thoughts, jumbled and disjointed as he tried to sift through the complex web he had woven. "About to live her life in hiding and secret again. It just does not make sense!"

"Why does that bother you so much? It is her life to live. If she chooses to hide and waste it, what is it to you?"

M'Baku gave him an incredulous look, immediately standing from the boulder to pace beside it. N'Danna was a Chosen, M'Baku was baffled that he could not see the issue in all this.

"Because she deserves better! She deserves what every person like her in these mountains has: the opportunity to be yourself, be raised to see the limitless power of what Hanuman has given you, the chance to do anything. That is what you have! That is what all of the Chosen have. It is not fair that she was stripped of that... Striped of that to be what? Someone of her power reduced to a rung on a ladder for a power-hungry shell of a man. It is not right."

"She is a princess, M'Baku, these obligations come with the territory. I am sure she is just doing what she thinks is best."

M'Baku scoffed, "Screw the obligations of royalty! We are talking about a woman who possesses powers... a gift that these mountains - Hell I would wager the world has not seen in generations. She is a once-in-a-lifetime gift, limitless power at her fingertips. She is not ordinary, she deserves more than ordinary!"

N'Danna sighed, sitting up.

"You speak of the Chosen as if we are Gods and Goddesses M'Baku. That has always been the problem, this altar you exalt us to, you prayed to be one of us when you don't really understand the burden we all carry. Asha is not limitless, none of us are! Asha was raised to hide, taught to be ashamed of who she was. Her powers are not unlimited. They are faulty, complicated, powerful, rare, stressed, beautiful and malleable just as the woman who wields them. You are so blinded by the beauty of her powers that you cannot see the tragedy in it. And that is why you are so disappointed. Not because she chose another man, but because she is has something you have longed for and she is showing you that not everyone is happy to be gifted... not everyone wants it. She may be a once-in-a-lifetime power, I do not doubt that, but she is also a young girl stuck between impossible choices, stuck between realities."

M'Baku shook his head, "Being with me is an impossible choice? Following your heart, choosing a better life is an impossible choice? I showed her how life could be different. Ok, you say it is not freedom, fine. But it is so much more than what she has now. How hard of a choice is that?"

"Following your heart has consequences, running up here to be with you and throw fire around to her heart's content has consequences. And not just for her... for her family, for all of Wakanda. She is a member of the Royal Family, for Hanuman's sake. P-people learn to love their chains M'Baku. Sometimes they become more comfortable, safer than what lies outside them. You offer her freedom but ignore the price of that freedom. Maybe she is not willing to pay it after only knowing you for two days."

M'Baku sighed and bowed his head, looking toward the forest to his left, the dark branches loaded down with fresh snow from the storm earlier that day.

"I j-just... I want better for her. I thought I could help bring light into her life and maybe, I just don't know how to accept that I failed. I-I don't know how to go back to life before her," he admitted honestly.

"Perhaps it is not all about you. You want her, and I understand that. But you did help her start down a path of self discovery. The Asha who left here last week is very different from the one who came here at first. She will find it difficult to retreat to her old life. Maybe you planted seeds that will flourish one day but you don't get to bask in the garden's beauty... it may not be meant for you. I know it is not what you want but you may have to accept that it is all you will get."

The two men stared at each other as his words settled in M'Baku's mind. This was probably the most honest conversation the two men had ever had in their friendship, N'Danna was the only person willing to tell M'Baku when he was wrong, push him down the correct path when he was stuck, straying or stalling to find it himself.

"The King asked me not to give up on her, not to push her away," he offered quietly, the grief of a love lost clear in his voice.

"Then don't, if you don't want to. She is not getting married Sunday, merely publicly announcing her engagement. So much can happen between now and the altar. But until then, you can stop torturing yourself and all of us," he added with a joking tone and smile, "Let her go and let the chips fall where they may. If she is meant to be yours, Hanuman will bring her back."

M'Baku nodded slowly. He looked over N'Danna's shoulder toward the center of the cliff they stood on. It was like a movie in front of him, he could see them clear as day. He wished he could go back to that moment, wrapped in the warmth of each other and deep in their own world. It was worth it, he decided, whatever heartbreak he had to endure the last few days or was in store for him moving forward.

"Let us go home, M'Baku. You got the answers you need."

M'Baku smiled at his friend and they both walked back to their individual carriages. Before it pulled off, he smiled sadly at that spot again, knowing he wouldn't be back here any time soon. N'Danna was right, Hanuman sent the answers he was desperately seeking. He just had to listen.

****

Asha felt like she had blinked and suddenly the week was almost over. She was not complaining though. A busy mind meant she couldn't pine for M'Baku, grief the loss of him, or think about her upcoming public engagement, which made all of this official, not some back alley deal between their parents. Staying busy was the only way to keep those thoughts and her looming dread at bay.

She had to admit though, without the allure of M'Baku and Jabariland, Asha realized that her new job lacked a certain appeal. But... she felt like everything lacked a certain appeal these days.

However, when darkness fell and the palace quieted, it hit her the hardest. She didn’t really need sleep so she couldn't count on it to take her away from it all and sometimes, even the unconscious world was unsafe. She counted at least one dream a night that featured M'Baku in some fashion.

And that is how she found herself after a particularly packed Thursday, laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling and praying to Bast to let her sleep. But no such luck. She tossed and she turned, and she thought of no one and nothing else but that man up the mountains and their last conversation.

It is clear that he is falling for you. You could escape... leave all this behind, the panther inside seemed to whisper, desperate to return to its life outside its cage. You hate it here.

I don't hate it here, she argued back. My family is here. Well, at least T'Challa and Shuri... Nakia, Alexis, Okoye - they are all here. I couldn't just leave them to deal with whatever wrath Elder Shani could unleash.

But this isn't for you anymore.

The thought made Asha cringe a little, knowing she could never say that out loud. What would her siblings say? It would devastate them. But it was not untrue, she realized in those quiet, lonely and restless moments in the dead of the night. After her father's death, her life was supposed to get easier with less restrictions and a bit more freedom. Yet somehow, the chains felt heavier and tighter. Pretending to be normal had never been this... this hard.

She felt like an animal being herded back into captivity after experiencing the wild, a life driven by its own desires. She did not realize what it would take to learn to re-love her chains, the pieces of her soul they siphon from her to do so. She shed them so quickly and willingly up the mountains, savored every second of the sweet freedom it offered her. And just like that she was back here, ripped out of her dreams into reality. She didn't expect it to be so hard truthfully... had no idea the pain she was preparing herself for.

She knew one thing though - this would never be enough, not after she experienced something different. This bastardized freedom her brother gave her just wouldn't do. It was the best he could offer, she certainly didn't fault him for it. But compared to what M'Baku showed her? This was merely a weak imitation.

She pulled the fluffy white pillow from beside her on top of her face and screamed into it, loud enough to release her frustration but not loud enough to send Alexis racing into her room, spear raised. Annoyance rippled through her that her body would not just allow her the simple reprieve from this world for another, the downside of sleep being a mere luxury and not a necessity for survival.

This just isn't helping, she ultimately decided.

Her mind drifted around the palace, thinking of all the places she could go to distract her and pass the night hours. Shuri's private lab was an option but she knew the young girl liked to work through the night and was not interested in talking to anyone. Her mind wandered to the library, which was a solid option of unlimited solitude. But even that did not have a certain appeal, she just thought of him and how they first met.

The training center?

There was an idea she could work with, a space that could not remind her of him. Besides, nothing cleared the mind like a good at was an idea she could work with. Nothing cleared the mind like a work out and thanks to her brother, she had a brand new, never been used training center of her own to test out. It was the only spot that offered any sort of appeal to her now. She slid out of bed and quickly changed her clothes.

Alexis stood at attention, saluting her before Asha told her where she was going and convinced her to take the rest of the night off.

She walked across the palace and downstairs, entering the main training room and immediately heading for a discreet door on the back wall. One full body scan later and the door slid open for her to enter.

It was beautiful, Asha thought to herself as she walked around the room. It was long and slender unlike the expansive training room on the other side of the wall. The cushioned training mat floor was soft beneath her feet, the tall ceilings overheard would give her just enough space to practice sustaining flight, sleek walls embedded with blue flecks of vibranium that glowed lighting the room in a blue hue.

One thing did confuse her though, the lack of equipment. She looked around, trying to understand the mechanics of the space. It was completely empty, all except for the computer monitor across from the entrance. As if it sensed her presence as she approached, it immediately lit up and offered a menu of training modes for Asha to choose from. Asha slowly took her rings off, sitting them and her shoes together in the corner, before scrolling through the many options and settings. She didn't understand how any of them would work with no equipment but she never got a proper tutorial of the space. But she knew her brother was smart so she chose combat and figured that she would learn as she went.

She walked to the center of the room and on cue, the lights dimmed and suddenly, a hologram of a person came racing toward her. Asha barely had time to think or process before the attacker raised a digital weapon and a loud bang sounded across the silent room.

Before she knew it, a massive blast of air knocked her on her back and let her know that she had been hit.

"Simulation over," a computerized female voice called throughout the room. "Assailant: 1; Asha: 0."

A small groan escaped her throat as she slowly sat up and tried to catch her breath.

Once she was on her feet again, she called out, "Again," signaling for the simulation to restart.

She sank into a defensive position as the lights darkened again, focusing her eyes on the wall at the end of the room and preparing for the man to emerge once more. She watched, waiting as nothing happened. But soon, she felt a presence behind her. She turned quickly, not wasting precious seconds this time. She immediately threw a ball of fire at the figure causing it to crumble to the ground and disappear.

She was so distracted watching the hologram disappear that she was surprised to feel a small blast of air hit her shoulder, directing her attention to a hologram on the window ledge. She was finally starting to understand the mechanics of combat mode, Asha killed that assailant next. This continued for 10 minutes, Asha dodging targets and their weapons. The simulation ended with another sneak attack, causing her to realize that any blow that would be fatal in the real world caused the simulation to cease.

Still, as she heard the score back, she felt as though she had redeemed herself. Not that it really mattered, there was no one there to see it. Asha: 10, Assailants: 5 was not bad for her second round.

Asha watched as the computer pulled up a heat signature of the room, red and orange on random spots around the room. She pressed a glowing "extinguish" button, which caused the room to release the targeted extinguisher to those spots, returning the room to normal.

Asha went through combat mode three more times, the assailants and patterns changing every time. They became more complex, she realized, the room analyzing her battle patterns and movements to push her harder. By her last round, Asha had kicked her powers into high gear, certainly more energy than she had ever used. But she looked like a skilled dancer instead of a clumsy fawn as she ran, jumped and dodged blasts across the room. She threw fire, caused diversions, hovered in the air to better examine the full field of attackers. She created life-sized fire panthers that chased down her attackers and killed them at her command like her own personal army. She even realized that once or twice, she could block the blasts with a fire shield, though she couldn't sustain it. The last simulation only ended when a voice overpowered the settings. Asha was directing a panther to attack three figures who were running from it from her position in the air when she saw her brother leaning against the wall in the corner.

"Simulation over," the voice said again as Asha made the fire disappear and landed softly back on the ground. She did not acknowledge her brother initially, walking to grab her shoes and rings as the voice said, "Assailants: 3, Asha: 25."

"I was trying to get to 30," she called, realizing how out of breath and tired she was as she tried to talk and walk over to him.

The room did a final extinguish of the night as they both moved back into the main training center. She sat down on the floor, exhausted, to drink some water.

"I needed a training partner. Trust me, you looked amazing, you were just showing off at that point. I am surprised to find you down here. Have you ever even used it since I built it?"

Asha's chest heaved as she caught her breath. She didn't understand how she felt this exhausted despite only training for an hour.

"Not since Baba. Figured now was as good a time as any. I couldn't sleep. You either?" She looked at the time on her beads: 3 am.

"Nope. I woke up and tossed around for a bit before something told me that this was the place to be tonight. Now I know why. Train with me," he asked assertively. She knew it was not a legitimate question. There was only one proper answer when her brother wanted a late-night sparring partner.

T'Challa powered up his suit, the only thing that would protect his skin from burns when practicing hand-to-hand combat with Asha. She sank into her battle stance, ignoring the exhaustion in her body. T'Challa was the better fighter, regardless of Asha's lethal abilities, because he practiced more and had super strength and speed. He knew all of Asha's moves and how to respond while it seemed she could never keep up with him. If he was being honest, these sessions were more for Asha than him.

After letting Asha win twice and beating her once, T'Challa let her fall back on the training floor to rest.

"That was good, you are getting better," he offered as he sat on a bench next to her. She envied him, she looked like she had just stepped out of a pool of her own sweat while he looked as if he could walk into a state dinner, perfectly unruffled despite fighting for 30 minutes.

"Thanks," she nodded.

"How are you? I meant to check in earlier this week, see how you are enjoying your work."

"The work is good T'Challa. I enjoy it. Everything is good," she responded lightly, hoping that would be enough to end the line of questioning she was sure was forming on his lips.

They hadn't really spoken since the drama at the state dinner the week prior and she had been kind of avoiding him to keep it that way. She did not want to talk to anyone about this but something felt especially odd about going to her older brother about her love life. She knew T'Challa had his way, she would be single forever so no one could hurt her.

"Asha..."

She turned her head away from him, recognizing that tone. He was descending into full big brother mode, desiring to talk about her feelings and fix whatever problems he thought plagued her. Asha knew he meant well and he tried, but most of her problems... he actually couldn't fix. And this one would be no different.

"Talk to me. Everything is not good. You are not ok. You are different, we can all see it. Don't keep it all bottled up."

Asha sighed, wiping the sweat off her forehead with the towel next to her.

"If I could explain it, T'Challa, I would."

"Try... for me. As long as it takes."

"Before I went to Jabariland, the idea of leaving this palace terrified me. You know how resistant I was to take on this role in the first place. All I could think of is Baba saying that I was dangerous and all the ways I could hurt or kill people. And so, staying here, being a good princess and marrying Hasani... it was prison but it was a comfortable one. Over time, the chains hurt less... the frustration faded and I learned to love and appreciate the life I had. It was not the best but it was enough."

"But then you experienced something different?" He offered.

Asha looked at him, appreciating that he was giving her the opening to admit the one thing she thought she had to keep secret to spare his feelings.

"But then I experienced something different," she echoed. "Thanks to you, by the way," she nudged him playfully. "Something life-changing. He pushed me to the edge and made me rethink everything I had thought about my powers before. Made me see beauty in the flowers where I only saw weeds. And then on top of that... I-I fell in love with him. So fast and hard like I jumped off a cliff. And then I came back here and... reality just hit me like a rhino. I am forced to hide... cannot have the man I love. I j-just don't know how much longer I can do this."

"Do what?" T'Challa asked, pained by his sister speaking so despondently and knowing there was little he could do to help her.

"This," she whispered, gesturing at her hands. "Pretending to be something I am not, hiding the one thing that makes me unique. Every day I get up and I put these rings on and head down to my office, I realize that this is it. All I have to look forward to for the rest of my days is Hasani and a life in the darkness. It will never be enough. Just doesn't seem like much of a life to me anymore."

Asha stared at the wall across from them, a painting of Bast on the training room wall, while T'Challa stared at her profile. The two just sat there for a while, not saying anything at all, as T'Challa thought over what Asha said. It was not that he didn't want to say anything, he just couldn't think of anything appropriate. What do you say to someone who no longer thinks their future is worth it?

"What can I do?" he settled on.

He was a fixer, he could help her fix this and forge a path forward.

She offered him a sad smile, "I am not sure there is anything you can do, brother."

"Nonsense, I am king," he boasted, causing the two to share a laugh.

"Even kings have limitations, just like the rest of us." She stood up, holding out her hand to pull her brother to his feet. "Come, let us go to bed. There is so much to be done before the start of the festival this weekend."

T'Challa nodded, knowing she was ending the conversation to avoid talking about it. He knew he would not sleep when he returned to his bed, instead he would be thinking of how to give his sister freedom, true freedom, no matter the cost.

****

"Did T'Challa tell you what this was about?" Shuri asked as they briskly walked down to the throne room, after being alerted of an emergency council meeting.

"No. We were training together last night, he never mentioned needing to gather the council early. I asked Nakia, she said he didn't mention it to her either. You would think he would trust his most trusted advisor though? Titles mean less and less around here every day," Asha joked.

She and Shuri shared a laugh as they entered and settled in their seats, finding most of the council already assembled.

Their mother walked in followed by T'Challa, who looked grim and exhausted. She shared a confused and concerned look with her sister as they all did the customary salute before directing her attention back to her brother. She was so concerned that she didn't even have much time to lament over M'Baku who was sitting across from her.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I realize this is unorthodox but this could not wait. I was up for most of the night, thinking and praying about the future of this nation. After deep prayer with Bast, I realized I can no longer sit by while injustice runs rampant within our borders. That is why I will be announcing the repeal of the Mutant Regulation Laws at the Festival of Bast on Sunday, effective immediately."

There was a beat of silence before shouts and anger erupted among the group as his words settled in the room like fog. The shouts overlapping rants of her mother, Elder Shani and two others were incoherent to Asha as they shouted at her brother. She was still trying to formulate a simple thought, his words were bouncing around in her mind but were having trouble truly sticking. Once she emerged from the shock of shock, she couldn't have been happier, repealing those laws would change so much for people like her.

The Mutant Regulation Laws were a set of laws, initially enacted by Asha's grandfather and expanded by King T'Chaka, that attempted to limit mutants movements in the country and to limit the increase of the mutant population. The only people excluded from the laws since their inception were the Jabari.

As far as the public knew, the purpose of the laws were to protect citizens from enhanced individuals. The act stipulated that all mutants had to register with the government and general rules to limit the use of their powers, such as forbidding them in public spaces. This registry was first enacted in response to what her grandfather believed was an exponential increase in the mutant population across the four tribes.

The laws were divisive no doubt, like all controversial things. Many loved them, advocated for further expansions, feeling safe knowing that mutants could not inflict their powers on everyone else. The less vocal half, though, saw them as something that made them no better than the discrimination colonizers around the globe subjected their people to. However, only the Royal family knew the truth, that her father's reasoning for expanding the law had little to do with safety and everything to do with his fragile ego.

As she got older, Asha quickly realized that her father didn't hate mutants because they were dangerous or threatened his country. He hated them simply because they were born with powers he had to win combat to get, powers he had to be deemed worthy for and earn. While they just woke up with them one day, having done no real work to deserve them. As the mantle of Black Panther and title of King caused his ego to grow, he grew equally paranoid that one day, mutants would begin to believe they were the ones actually chosen by Bast and invalidate the legacy of the Black Panther. As the population of mutants grew year after year, his paranoia that he would lose his title of King and Protector grew with it. Soon, a registry to merely keep track of the population was not enough. Soon, he launched a campaign to ensure mutants were the lowest rung on Wakanda's social order. Soon, the registry turned into laws to limit their abilities and resources funding research to find a cure for their affliction.

In the previous council meeting, M'Baku had echoed the sentiments of half the country... that the policies were regressive and a dark stain on Wakanda. But Wakandans were humans, just like those on the other side of their borders. After being fed enough ammunition, people can be conditioned to hate anyone.

T'Challa raised his hand to silence the group, adding, "Lord M'Baku was right, this is not the Wakanda Bast promised her people, at least not for everyone. Not for enhanced individuals, who are just as deserving of the same respect and opportunities as the rest of us. The Jabari and their enhanced people have lived in peace for centuries. We can do the same here."

"Have you lost your mind??" Ramonda asked furiously from her seat next to her son. "That law is part of your father's legacy!"

"Baba was a great king, but that does not mean he was always right. And on this, I feel he was wrong."

"Half of your country sleeps peacefully because of those laws," Elder Shani cried, pointing out the large window at the city below. "Sleep peacefully knowing lethal people cannot murder them or hurt them with no thought. What would you say to those people?"

"Yes and half the country sleeps less peacefully knowing that with all our technology and opportunities and advancement, we are no better than the colonizers who discriminate against people for their race or gender or sexuality. It is not right," Nakia interjected.

"You will end your father's legacy in one day. You will destroy everything he has built, the tribe and country he has created."

"The tribe and legacy he built on the backs of a brother he murdered, a child he abandoned and rampant discrimination of his people! Would that be such a bad thing?" Asha argued quietly, drawing the group's attention (and subsequently, their anger) toward her.

She almost balked at the looks her mother and Elder Shani gave her but when she looked passed them, she was met with a reassuring and encouraging nod from M'Baku that empowered her to press forward.

"This is a good thing," she asserted, shoulders squared and head held high.

"Of course you would think so," Elder Shani sneered. "I am sure you were the one that forced him to do this. People like you are destroying our country."

The room fell silent as the other elders stared shocked at their fellow member, seemingly surprised at her very vocal and unwarranted disrespect toward a member of the Royal Family.

"Elder Shani! Princess Asha is royal advisor to the King, our princess. Apologize at once!" Elder M’Kathu exclaimed.

"I shall do no such thing! The only thing that makes her worthy to sit before us is that crown on her head... her title. She is beneath me, beneath all of us," she spat at Asha, staring at her with such contempt.

Asha sat rigid in her chair as her future mother-in-law threw her vitriol at her. Asha wondered if this was how out-of-body experiences felt. She could so very clearly see where this train was going, see how her life's secret was about to implode before her eyes in a manner of moments but she could not direct her mouth to say a word or her limbs to move. She just sat, paralyzed and silent, unable to save herself or stop the train that was about to carry her whole family off a cliff.

"Elder Shani... I would think about what is at stake before you say another word to or about my sister," T'Challa threatened, his voice low and deadly.

For a split-second, the room saw it - a king no longer sat before them, the Black Panther did. For most, this would have been enough to slam on the brakes and beg for forgiveness. But it seemed Elder Shani was done, tired of pretending to respect someone she felt was beneath her, tired of keeping a secret for a person she despised. And her hate would not be outweighed by her greed any longer, she clearly couldn't take it.

"I told your father! I told him, warned him of the damage you and your affliction would cause him. Even from the grave, you destroy him and taint his legacy. Your kind... your disease destroyed him and it will lead to the end of Wakanda! You are a threat to us all." She took a deep breath before continuing, "Princess Asha is a mutant! The Panther Tribe has been hiding it, lying to their people for decades. Hiding her and t-this abomination from us all! And now she has our King under some spell, convinced him to uproot all the safety and security we have worked so hard to build."

As she spoke, Asha could feel rage rising in her body. It was steady, slowly building with every word that fell from Shani's lips as she spewed her hate and vitriol for all to hear. She tried to calm herself, control her breathing and emotions as she sat there, push them back down so she could get through the night. But it was proving to be impossible. The metal bars of her panther's cage were meaningless, being torn apart like pieces of paper as her emotions reached their peak.

"That is enough! Take her away!" T'Challa stood before her, directing the Dora to come and escort Elder Shani from the room.

Asha held her head in her hands as she took sharp, shallow breaths. Her whole body shook as she tried her hardest to not lose it in front of her family and the remaining members of the council.

"Asha."

She heard Shuri's voice and felt her hand on her shoulder causing her to jump up. Everyone seemed to back away from her immediately, causing Asha to notice the smoke and small flickers of flames erupting from her hands. The rings around her fingers were completely useless as the flames continued to grow steadily. Asha could only recall one moment in her life when she felt this out of control, the day her brother “died.”

She got up and backed away to put some distance between her and the rest of the group.

"Stay back!" she yelled through her gasping breaths, holding her hand out and inadvertently causing flames to fly toward her family.

The Dora around the room instinctively lifted their spears, the remaining elders fled to the opposite wall as far from her as possible. But her family remained where they were, M'Baku being the brave soul to ignore her direction and approach her, unbothered by the uncontrollable fire escaping her body. Fire that grew stronger and bigger as Elder Shani's words cycled through her brain nonstop, causing her despair and rage to grow. Years of ignoring her emotions, years of trauma and abuse were finally boiling over. Tonight was the final push off the cliff, she could not do this anymore.

"Asha.. you have to calm down," M'Baku whispered, motioning for the rest of her family to stay behind him.

He wished he could get her to look into his eyes but as he looked at her blood-red irises and the tears streaming down her face, he realized she looked without truly seeing.

"You are none of those things. You are beautiful and powerful. You are not dangerous. Don't become what they fear you are."

She heard his voice, understood the words he was saying but she didn't believe them, not when 25 years of abuse cycled in her mind to counter it. She looked around the room and all she saw was fear, proof that her home, the place she loved would never truly accept her. Elder Shani proved that. She had freed her from hiding but she also ensured that Asha couldn't stay here anymore, not when people looked at her like what she always feared she was: a monster.

She couldn't do it, wouldn't do it, didn't have the strength to subject herself to it any longer. This was her out and she was going to take it. She looked from her family to the window across from her.

She didn't think about it, didn't consider the mechanics. She just tore herself from the wall she backed herself into and ran toward the window. Her body lifted off the floor into flight as she used a blast of fire to cause the glass to break open for her.

"Asha no! Come back, " she heard her sister call after her.

She turned back and looked at them once as she used all the energy she could muster to fly away from her, her family, her home and her past for good.

Night had fallen during the course of that meeting, giving Asha a nice cover so no one could see her flying overhead. She zoomed out of the dome quickly, her mind not even conjuring up a location or place to go. She just wanted as much distance between her life and her as possible, knowing she would run into the border at some point.

The wind painfully whipped against her face, causing her eyes to blur so she could barely see where she was going. In her emotionally-heightened state, it proved difficult to sustain flight as she passed over the uninhabited forests of Wakanda. As she tried to sort through the wreckage that was her life, she could not concentrate on her task, which caused her to lose height or speed every few minutes. And it just became harder and took more energy to accelerate and regain the height she lost every time she had to refocus.

This cycle lasted for about 20 minutes before she had to reckon with this hastily made choice. She had no idea where she was or if she was even still in Wakanda, all she saw for miles were forest. She figured she must still be in the country, she couldn't fly that fast. In a short time, the explosive anger that coursed through her in the throne room was long gone, replaced with very real fear. Fear that taking an impromptu flight with no direction, after only one lesson, and without telling one living soul where she was headed was the worst decision she had ever made.

She realized soon that she had no choice but to turn around and pray to Bast that she could sustain flight enough to get back to civilization. This was not sustainable and she knew it. She frantically looked around for a landmark in the trees, anything that looked familiar and could provide her a spot to rest before finishing the journey. She spotted the temple by the Garden of the Heart-Shaped Herb, silently thanking Bast and deciding that it would be as good of a spot as any to catch her breath. She headed in that direction. However, like a real fire reaching its end, Asha could see her internal fire slowly dying out.

"No don't do this, we are almost there," she begged herself as the fire encompassing her hands and feet started to die away as well.

Her mind felt cloudy and it was a struggle to keep her eyes open. Before she knew it, her eyes fell closed, her fire having died out completely, and her body fell gracefully from the sky before thudding in a small clearing in the forest at the foot of the Temple of Bast.

****

@destinio1 @muse-of-mbaku @missmohnique @jellybean531 @afrolatinpami @leahnicole1219 @archivistofwakanda

#Black Writers #black panther fanfiction #black panther imagines #black panther fics #m'baku x reader #m'baku imagine #m'baku smut #m'baku x oc

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vore-scientist · 5 years ago

Text

The Panicking Prince

(A humorous little adventure containing Lots of GT interaction and some safe, soft, M/f GT vore, platonic and willing)

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

Full title: In Which Prince Yonatan Does The Books

Summary: Prince Yonatan discovers some information that about the fate of the kingdom. This causes him to panic so he runs off to find his sister the Princess Sophia and the Giant Wizard, Yonah.

Warnings: No real warnings. I will mention that Yonatan is 16 years old but he’s NOT the one eaten (It’s Sophia as usual). There’s an almost minor vorish moment involving him, but it’s silly. It’s all silly actually.

---

In a well lit room in a high tower of the Castle in the City of Luster in the Kingdom of Orr sat a prince. A prince surrounded by scrolls, notebooks, files, boxes, and cabinets. This prince was almost 17 years old, which was unusually young to be handling the paperwork of an entire kingdom. Especially since the Kingdom Of Orr was not one kingdom, it was two, as many centuries ago the King of Orr was picked to be the King of the Mystic Woods. And ever since then the new Mystic King maintained the claim on Orr.

But Prince Yonatan was not a usual prince. He had been cursed at 8 days old, at his naming day, by the Ivory and Bronze Fairy Courts. They imbued him with intelligence and wisdom beyond his years. On the Prince’s 9th day of life he spoke in full sentences, the first of which he used to critique his feeding/sleeping schedule. And on the 10th day had set up a system that had him feeding, sleeping, and relieving himself on an extremely exact timetable. And it only got worse from there.

With a mind hungry for knowledge but so full of new thoughts, the poor prince was constantly in need of diversions. Play with his siblings could occupy his body well enough; wrestling, tag, hide and seek, sword fighting, and climbing through areas of the castle they had no business being in. But as conversationalists went, they weren’t engaging. He chatted with Royal Philosophers until he ran circles around their theories, and his father’s political advisors until he could contribute to their machinations, which he often put a stop to before some sort of scandal got out.

No advisor had successfully lead a power grab let alone a coup. but every time one got close it was a whole do-to. Now such things only happened Once in a while, when Yonatanlet one slip his notice, just to keep things lively.

A few years ago he’d taken up a new hobby.

The bookkeeping of Two Kingdoms was a daily task, one that Yonatan found extremely relaxing. With constant fresh information, it never got boring, and he could concentrate entirely on it. No more of his mind wandering and making him worry.

See. Yonatan has anxiety. Bad anxiety. For all his wisdom, his brain was constantly racing and all those thoughts were so overwhelming, especially ones about the probabilities of disasters, or outcomes of potential wars, or that he was a terrible brother because of his curse, or that the royal advisors secretly resented him and were planning his assassination, or maybe or that his brain might one day just pop, or perhaps...

You get the point.

When he did the kingdom’s books, he had no such thoughts. At least, not as many.

You might think such work is boring, and yes, stuff like guild dues and which portions could be taxed, or reviewing the fluctuations in prices of basic goods and preparing to subsidize things for winter are certainly borning. But tracking the latest dragon sightings and the current standings of registered and known unregistered heroes and villains was exciting.

Managing the FairyTales was an important job that Yonatan took great pleasure in. Reviewing and updating the current status of prophecies and their subjects, with calendars of known and calculated trigger dates and references of contingency plans for both disasters and celebrations. Following Long Lost (or recently lost) Heirs and their last known locations, with information on anyone noteworthy or particularly unnoteworthy having passed through them. Keeping logs of treasure hauls taken in and given out by heroes and villains, making note of any (interesting) magic items. The latest word on magic items of secret but great renown, and any rumors involving their being lost, stolen, or found.

And all of this and more! Organized so that the right information was disseminated to the right people. Information becoming instruction, and instruction becoming action. Many actions taken simply to influence others, in large and small ways. For example: Pushing people to influence some tale. Such people might never know they were part of a tale. They might have just been spurred on to tell a potential hero a small piece of information, or offer them a meal or place to stay for a night.

All this made sure that FairyTales continued to be Told.

You get the idea.

But the prince was also trusted with monitoring some of the more sensitive information. Of note in this instance: Anomalous magical spikes in the Mystic Woods.

The Mystic Woods was always shifting, but it was crucial to note where things were when interesting events occurred. Even if the event was merely a surge of forest magic, detected by a ranger or King Ben himself. Most of the time it was just a flare up as the mysterious currents of magic swirled around and collected. Or King Ben bit his tongue and for some reason the Mystic Woods reacted.

Lately, a lot of the flares had been accompanied by little bits of good fortune! A tree being cured by disease, a swarm of insects cleared away, a rare magical berry bush bearing fruit for the first time in decades. Or were in locations inhabited by many of the mystic woods communities. Villages of Elves or colonies of gnomes, all who benefited in small ways from the flares. What nice things! Knowing good things were happening made Yonatan feel very good!

Unfortunately, that mood was soon to be soured. As he reviewed the flares his super-fairy-magic-enhanced brain made some connections.

What had he been reading yesterday?

Though he wasn’t technically permitted to read the reports between King Ben and the Royal Wizard, and Evil Giant, known as Yonah HaEsh. Yonatan liked to know how his favorite sister was doing.

Even if Yonatan had trouble connecting to his siblings, he still loved them, and they loved him. But Sophia… She was special to him. Her carefree attitude taught him to act without thinking; With his brains and her wildness, they had been quite the pair of troublemakers. There was rarely a dull moment with her. And unlike his other siblings, who brushed off his anxiety attacks as just Yonatan’s Magic Brain Weirdness, she would help him. It was incredible how someone so unfettered could also be so steady.

Many a night he had run to her in tears over some fear, like how according to some calculations, the moon would crash down in a few hundred years, wiping out all life. She never got mad at him for waking her up, and she’d hold him as he cried himself to sleep.

Adjusting to her being officially “kidnapped” by an evil wizard had been difficult to say the least. That was almost 2 years ago. It made him feel better to know she was thriving under the care of her captor. Even if he missed her dearly.

Back to the reports.

There had been several odd happenstances while she was on patrols with Yonah. Patrols were something Yonah had been doing long before Sophia had been assigned to him, and it was mainly the half-giant’s way of not going stir crazy. Explorations out in the forest; limited by the 5km range that Yonah could go from his tower, usually just to see what was around, but also to hunt and collect spell components. Yonah had at some point noted that when he went out with Sophia, they would encounter more interesting places and situations.

A few of those places had surges of magic, mostly after, but sometimes before, Sophia encountered them. Many of these places had been having some sort of trouble, and it was clear from the ShiftLogs, that they shifted within a few hours of Sophia and Yonah’s patrol.

Yonah even noted, almost a year and a half ago, that the forest was easier to navigate when he took Sophia with him.

Almost as if…

Yonatan’s genius brain had made a connection but it was not letting him actually think it. But he knew what it was. And his heart started to pound loudly and painfully against his ribs. Sweat beaded on his brow and his hands felt clammy.

Oh no.

No no no no no.

Now he was panicking. Panic was bad! It hurt! No! He hated this!

He could be wrong. Easily! This kind of thing never happened. It was probably just coincidence. But no such thing existed in their world That had been proven long ago by some amazing sages. There was nothing he could do about it if he was right. He had to calm down. Once he was calm he could… right.

Nothing doing.

Just panic.

---

It had been a long while since he’d had an anxiety attack like this one. He couldn’t do any more work, instead he ran manic around the hallways until dinner time, where he ate barely anything and what he did he threw up shortly after. And sleep? Out of the question.

Unless.

What time even was it? About an hour till midnight? Didn’t really matter. Still in his pajamas Prince Yonatan used one of the secret passages to get out of the castle. One that led to the stables so he could take his horse. Otherwise the trip would take a day.

Still, he only rode Soos up to the Mystic Woods. Soos’ full name was Stubborn Old Ornery Stallion. Even though Soos wasn’t more than a few years old. Yonatan liked his horse and hoped he would live long enough to live up to name.

It was a smooth 3 hour ride out of the city and past the farms and rolling hills. There wasn’t a defined border but once the trees got decently thick yet still lacked magic, he had Soos stop. Soos whinnied and stomped his hooves a bit annoyed.

“Just checking,” Yonatan said, “You don’t have to come with me.” Even for a son of the Mystic King, the Woods was incredibly foreboding, especially at night.

Soos’ ears flicked as if to say ‘Excuse me? I was bred for use in this forest.’

“Alrighty then!”

Without another thought (which was a considerable feat), Yonatan spurred Soos back into a trot, and into the woods. There was no point in picking a direction, he had to trust the forest.

Back in the City of Luster there was panic. No one knew where Prince Yonatan was. Ben extended his awareness but sensed nothing. He wasn’t unduly worried since Yonatan was too clever for his own good, but that didn’t mean there was no reason for concern. And so he woke up the entire city, having his guards spread out to ask anyone if they’d seen or spoken to the prince.

That will have to be dealt with later, as by now Yonatan had made it to his destination.

No surprises here: it’s the Terrible Tower which conditionally belongs to the Great (and also) Terrible Yonah HaEsh. The current prison of Yonatan’s sister, the Princess Sophia. The tower sat to one side of a clearing which now held a mage’s garden. No matter how the forest shifted, Yonatan had never come into the clearing behind the tower, it was always on the side with the garden.

He had also never been here at night. There was very little moon, but there were a few plants that luminesced. Not very brightly; when he emerged into the clearing with his lantern the lights diminished. But he needed to see the path to the tower.

There was no way to get Soos up it, but Soos didn’t want to go inside, he’d much rather stay in the garden. He knew which plants were safe to eat, and was confident no monsters would come here, not ones looking to eat horses anyways. No, if a monster were to come they would be here for the wizard, probably after some potion or spell. Monsters, like humans, needed the services of mages, but were more comfortable dealing with other monsters.

Yonatan removed Soos’ saddle, leaning it up against the tower, and started climbing.

Not so easy in slippers… Thankfully the large thorns were just illusions. He made it up no problem, and keeping in mind the spacial dilation he hopped to the floor.

The workshop, which looked normal from where he’d sat on the windowsill, suddenly became nearly 4 times larger. Having expected this he rolled out of his fall. His slippers made soft pat pat pat noises as he walked briskly to the trap door which was unfortunately closed but for those in the know, and Yonatan was, there was a secret human sized door. That led to the conveniently human sized stairs that ran alongside the large ones. In fact, the only way to access those stairs was through that entrance.

From the workshop course. Once you were in the tower proper, as long as you knew the stairs existed, they would graciously appear for you. This was a feature that Yonah had added since Sophia’s arrival, as well as a few well placed and magically hidden ladders and ropes.

The desired room clear in Yonatan’s mind, it was only one flight down to the hallway that led to the bedroom. The massive door had a very much not hidden crack in the lower right corner, perfectly irresistible to any sneaking thief. Though these days it got more use by Princess Sophia when she needed the bathroom at night.

Ignoring the half-giant asleep in his bed, Yonatan made a beeline for the massive golden birdcage that rested next to the nightstand. Though he wasn’t checking on Sophia. To get up to the bed he had to climb on the outside of the cage up to the nightstand and jump the very safe distance from the nightstand to the bed. He still looked down and climbed carefully just in case.

The Princess Sophia was not in the bed which hung suspended off center in the cage. He continued to climb up as quietly as possible. Best not to make noises that would wake up the giant in an irritable manner.

Which is why he took a running leap off nightstand, landing with a soft PUFF on the pillow. Right next to the giant’s head. But Yonah did not stir.

The half-giant slept with his back to the wall, on his left side, angled downward. Left arm tucked under two pillows, right arm lazily hung around the pillow. If Sophia had been sleeping on Yonah’s person she would have been curled up in that right arm, against the giant’s face. She was not.

Well. Fine. That was her prerogative. Yonatan wasn’t here for her anyways. Well he was but not just yet. First he needed the half-giant. He knelt down Yonah’s face. Trickles of dim orange light escaped through the eyelids. The prince was a bit nervous about waking the wizard, but it had to be done. He experimented first by tapping the giant’s nose.

The deep breaths turned into stilted gasps and snuffles, the giant starting to become aware of a human guest.

“Uh, Mr Giant?”

One dimly glowing eye cracked open to look at him in confusion.

“Eh?” The giant grunted. Then the right arm lifted and before Yonatan could react he was slapped down under a massive palm. It had been a lazy move, so he wasn’t injured, rather he was gently pressed into the pillow. Yonatan didn’t resist.

After running all the way here Yonatan had escaped the majority of his anxiety, and the weight of the hand was pushing the rest away, and the warmth was extremely relaxing. Which, while part of his plan, this not exactly how he pictured spending the night. It was not comfortable.

After another minute he pushed the hand off and he sat in front of the Giant’s face. Yonah had started to fall asleep again.

“Where’s my sister?” Yonatan hissed.

It took a few seconds before the giant grunted out “Iher?”

“My sister. Sophia” Yonatan helped.

Yonah took a breath and with some effort said something in Implausible Giant and even though Yonatan was fluent it was garbled. But the giant had said it with a slight smile. The prince didn’t need to be a genius to know Yonah had eaten Sophia. As long as he didn't think about it too hard it shouldn’t be a problem. Of course Yonatan thought very hard about most things.

And if you’re wondering why Yonatan wasn’t concerned that his sister was eaten by a half giant, maybe you’re thinking Yonatan thought of her as being in his way? And having his sister eaten was one less person ahead of him in the line of succession. No. He knew his sister was safe and snug in her giant’s stomach. The half-giant had half-cursed her so that she couldn’t be digested and didn’t need to breathe.

But he could and he did!!! And the very sleepy giant’s hand got hold of him once more and shoved him towards the face. Without much trouble one of his legs was forced between the jaws! It was painful too, not because Yonah was biting him, just the contortion of his hips. His other leg was bent and his knee was against Yonah’s fangs. Yonatan yelled, quietly, and punched Yonah in the nose.

“No you stupid giant I’m not Sophia! You already ate her!”

That got Yonah’s attention. He released the human’s leg and smacked his lips as he blinked into almost full consciousness.

“That’s better!” Yonatan stroked Yonah’s nose, he knew the giant liked that a lot. “I Hope you enjoyed that little treat, but I’m not on the menu.”

The giant’s eyes flitted open, the soft orange light focusing on the prince. “You taste,” the giant breathed in and out, “like you sister.” He smiled a bit mischievously.

“I know I do, that’s why I’m not angry,” said Yonatan. “But don’t do that again unless I give you permission.”

“Hmf,” Yonah breathed sharply, “You never do.”

“That’s your problem, not mine.”

“And what?” he sighed, “Is yours?” Yonah genuinely wanted to know. He liked the prince. Yonatan might be pompous but he had a good heart.

Yonatan pouted and looked away, “I’m. Anxious.”

Yonah took the prince in his hand again, his palm against Yonatan’s back. Once Yonatan leaned into his hand he stroked and massaged the human. Using his knuckles against the prince’s back, taking his arms between fingers, squeezing and rubbing gently but firmly.

“You always are, I want to know why, Little Prince,” said Yonah with a little more sternness.

Yonatan linked an arm around Yonah’s fingers, squeezing them to get Yonah’s full attention. He looked right into the giant’s eyes, and even with the glow he could see his reflection.

“Can. I sleep first?” Yonatan yawned, “Here? With you?”

Yonah sighed, and gave the prince a squeeze back.

Back in school, his friends that knew he was half-giant were insistent that they sleep cuddled up to him before exams. All of them piled on top of him, in his arms, They would sleep so soundly even if they were terrified. It was a power he did not understand, but folks tended to sleep more soundly if he was holding them, or they were laying on him. Not that he minded, he absolutely loved being adorned in friends.

“Of course.”

He also knew Yonatan wasn’t above ordering him around, even if the prince didn’t technically have that authority. The kid, who was almost a young adult, was very commanding. Yonah angled himself a bit more towards the prince, hooking his arm around his face so the prince could crawl into his embrace, which Yonatan did without being prompted. Curling up with his back to the giant.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” Yonah asked one more time.

“No.’

He wasn’t expecting that answer and expressed his surprise with a small snort of air at the prince’s back. The prince did not look at him.

“I’m too tired to deal with it, and can’t sleep because of it,” he said very quietly.

Yonah made a grunt of understanding. Whatever ‘it’ was, the prince would handle it better after a proper night’s sleep. Or at least some sleep. The prince had amazing timing, it was barely ten minutes since he and Sophia had woken up to the HourGlass’s alarm, and reset her curse. So the prince had at least 3 and half solid hours of sleep to look forward to.

Yonatan buried his face in the giant’s arm. It was so soft and warm, and friendly. That was what he needed after all, a friendly presence. Before that had always been Sophia, holding him tightly as he cried and shivered. But this was leagues beyond that;He could feel his mind and body calming down so rapidly it was almost alarming. And then he was asleep.

---

Yonah was thankful that Sophia woke up first, waking him so he could stop the HourGlass before it gave them all a painful headache.

He was a bit miffed when Sophia re-activated her curse, mumbling something about still needing sleep and ‘you can wait a few more hours for breakfast right?’ but not waiting for an answer before falling back asleep. He could of course wake her back up, but if Sophia didn’t want to be spat out there wasn’t much he could do without invasive magics.

“Morning already?”

Even trying hard not to disturb the prince, Yonah had to lean over to reach the HourGlass. Yonatan had still woken.

“Yes. you can sleep longer if you like,” Yonah said, “but I’m getting up.”

“No. no. I’m good,” Yonatan freed himself from Yonah’s arms, stumbling off the pillow and onto the nightstand. The prince didn’t look very rested, but Yonah didn't argue with him.

Yonatan’s head throbbed a bit, mostly from lack of sleep but also from his wild ride of mania last night. He made himself focus on the waking wizard. It did not escape his Attention that yonah was not spitting up his sister. The half-giant sat up and the bed sheet fell off of him, Yonatan could see the wizard’s slightly full midsection. No movement either, but it was hard to tell as Yonah yawned and stretched. To take his mind off that he looked at Yonah’s face.

His normally trim goatee was lost a bit in the surrounding beard, and Yonah’s wild hair had come out of it’s golden bands so it hung over his shoulders like a lion’s mane. He yawned again and Yonatan got a good view of the large fangs.

Yonatan wanted to say something now, but decided to wait until the wizard changed out of his pajamas. He used magic do it and Yonatan loved watching people use magic. And once Yonah was properly dressed Yonatan realized he was in PJs too. Ok, get dressed first, then talk.

“Is there a chance you have clothes that fit me?” Yonatan asked.

“Actually, yes,” Yonah said, in a soft voice, picking up the prince and placing him on top of the chest of drawers where he kept his clothes. There was a human sized wardrobe on top.

“It’s magic,” Yonah prompted.

Yonatan opened it and found a few simple clothes that were indeed his size, though it was mostly outfits that were clearly meant for Sophia. A green one stood out to him, green usually did. Must be something about being a royal of the Mystic Woods. You always looked your best in green.

“If you want privacy, step inside,” Yonah indicated the wardrobe.

Oh! Fascinating. Yonatan stepped through and found a small open circular dressing room, with a carpeted floor, racks of clothing all around, and a mirror. Brightly lit though no obvious light source; Yonatan decided that mystery could be dealt with later.

He walked out with purpose and Yonah put a hand on the dresser so Yonatan could walk across to his shoulder.

“Would you like breakfast, Your Highness?” Yonah said, still keeping his voice soft but managing to be snarky.

Yonatan elbowed the giant in and for his cheek.

“Yes,” he said.

Breakfast made him remember...

“So. Uh…. Sophia-“ Yonatan started to ask as Yonah headed towards the kitchen. From his bedroom to a short hallway to the stairs and up the stairs.

“She wanted to sleep more,” he said with a kind of wistful sigh.

The giant was walking with an incredibly smooth gate; gliding. He put a hand to his middle as he spoke, smiling. “We had a pretty intense evening on patrol.”

Yonatan nodded.

Accepting that Sophia’s captor/mentor/best friend regularly ate her was pretty easy. Once the curse was explained. Stupid, extremely unnerving, but not hard to understand. Giants ate people after all, at least evil ones did, and Yonah was an evil giant. What was difficult to wrap his mind around was that Sophia liked it. No. Loved it. She’d been in there for over 8 hours now. And what was he, her brother doing about it?

Sitting casually on Yonah’s shoulder like she was just asleep in her bed! But she was in Yonah’s stomach! That was so WEIRD! The more he thought about it the weirder it got! So he had to stop thinking about it. Not easy when he instinctively looked down from his perch and had a perfect view of the giant's gut. Pleasantly stuffed is how Yonatan might describe it, though it was even more disconcerting that his mind considered it at all pleasant.

He looked forward; They entered the kitchen. But he didn’t really want to think about food now. Of course he didn’t say so, because he knew Yonah would wonder if he was sick. Explaining was out of the question. That meant he would have to force himself to eat whatever the giant served him and hope he could hold it down.

Yonah put him down on the dining table, which had a smaller, human sized table placed on it, and began gathering his supplies.

“HEY! I WANT TO WATCH!” Yonatan shouted. He did not want to be left alone to his thoughts even for a moment.

Shhhh!

Yonah glared at him, pointing to his stomach then his ears “Please, you can be quiet, I can hear you just fine.” He put the prince back on his shoulder.

As soon as Yonah started cooking, all of Yonatan's previous queasiness went away. Sophia had expounded upon the giant’s prowess as a chef but hearing about it and smelling it were two different things.

And eating it was something else entirely.

As soon as everything was on the table Yonatan practically inhaled the food. It was really just scrambled eggs and some sautéed vegetables but the best he’d ever had in his life. Yonah really knew his spices and had precision timing to make the softest eggs. Also… he technically hadn’t eaten since lunch the previous day. Having an anxiety attack takes a lot of energy, so the prince was ravenous.

Though Yonah had made more than enough for himself, he hadn’t gotten himself a plate. He’d turned the stove off and covered the pan with the eggs to keep them warm. What he did get was a cup of morning tea, and one for Yonatan as well, which he poured and cooled off with magic.

“I take it you wont eat-”

“Until your sister wakes? No. -” he chuckled and yet sounded a bit angry about that. He must be hungry too, and having an indigestible weight in his stomach didn’t change that.

“But- the tea?” He took a sip and was unsurprised to find it was unbelievably good. Probably made with magic leaves from the garden.

“She’s not awake to complain about it,” he grinned, taking another sip, as if he would still drink it even if she were.

It did not escape Yonatan’s notice that Yonah was watching him eat with hunger in his eyes. Thankfully his extreme wisdom let him know it was more jealousy, as he continued to shovel eggs into his princely mouth, than a desire to eat him. Though that was there. Maybe someday, but Yonatan was determined to deny the giant for as long as possible.

“So, little prince, what exactly prompted you to come running into my clutches last night?”

The prince swallowed his mouthful of food and took a long drink of chilled apple and blueberry juice which Yonah had gotten from his cold cellar.

“I- Kinda wanted Sophia to be around-” Yonatan looked away, and took another bite of food to stall for another half a minute. “Well- I- I was going through father’s notes and I found something. Something important, about the fate of the kingdom.”

“Now I’m worried I shouldn’t be hearing this,” Yonah said, “You were going through Ben’s notes?”

The prince’s eyes widened, and then he laughed, “HA!” quickly he quieted down remembering his sister- “I do father’s books all the time. He’s taken full advantage of my accursed brain.”

Was that pity in the giant’s face? “Yonah, I’m grateful for the work. It keeps my mind occupied, or I’d be having breakdowns every other day!”

After a moment's consideration Yonah nodded.

“I’m surprised Ben’s brain can’t hold it all, considering it’s got all the power of the Mystic Woods,” Yonah mused.

“The Mystic Woods, for all it is a large entity, doesn’t understand economics or politics, or even the intricacies of the FairyTales it hosts” Yonatan pointed out, again Yonah nodded.

“Anyways,” Yonatan pulled the conversation back on track, “I saw in his notes, some observations. Ones that correlated with Sophia’s escapades in the Woods.”

“And?” Yonah asked, but he had a feeling he knew what Yonatan was about to say.

“And- I could be wrong. But. The forest. It seems to like her, favor her.” He gulped, his voice getting higher and shaky, “Sophia- She. I think she’s already been chosen. As the next Mystic King.”

The wizard’s face darkened and he put a hand over his stomach again, while the other tightened around tea cup. Yonatan was sitting up straight, worried he’d made a terrible mistake. How would you react if you were told your best friend in the whole wide world was going to be someday joined in a magical hivemind, the other member of which was a mysterious and powerful gestalt entity. What if you were suddenly made aware that the next magical King of the kingdom you lived in, was sleeping in your stomach?

“Yonatan,” He growled, but it was breathy. “I am so very glad you did not wait.”

Yonatan refocused, “Wait for what?

“You are lucky Sophia is still asleep in my stomach.”

It was REALLY weird to hear him say it so casually, even if the moment wasn't so casual. Cold sweat beaded on Yonatan’s brow.

“We- Your father and I, we aren’t going to tell her,” he continued.

A million thoughts flooded Yonatan’s brain but one screamed to the surface.

“YOU KNOW?”

Yonah’s eyes shimmered behind his thick spectacles. “Yes. We suspected it almost half a year ago, but confirmed it a few months ago.”

A FEW MONTHS. Now Yonatan couldn’t believe he’d only found out last night. This had been deviously kept out of the reports. No. Wait. There had been changes, exactly 6 months ago, towards more patrols, more missions involving the forest and gauging the response. And more recently, a lot more lessons on the history of the woods and its communities, and how she applied them in her outings. Recently, she’d been learning spells and potions that relied on drawing magic from around her, seeing if the forest would allow its use. And she had no idea she was even doing it. Using magic like the King, but on a much smaller level.

“You’re…” Yonatan looked into Yonah’s eyes to see a few tears had escaped down his cheeks, “You’re training her. Without her knowledge.”

“You’re worried, too” he continued, “That she’s doing to end up like dad, that you’re going to lose her. And!” his mind hit one new thought, great thoughts. “You’re worried that all this work is going to make it worse. Like if only you sabotaged it, she’ll be rejected, or it won’t take as much of her. ”

Yonah stiffened. Right. Wisdom.

The prince stood up and walked over to the giant, and sat on his wrist, patting his arm. Now Yonah was the one shaking. His glasses fogged up, and he tightened his grip on his middle. Yonatan was processing this new information, gathering handfuls of the wizard’s arm hair.

“Yonah,” Yonatan breathed, his heart slowing but lifting considerably “I had no idea you were training her. I freaked out because I too saw Sophia being… taken by The Woods. But Father is... the way he is, well, because to become one with the forest, he had to sacrifice some of his personhood.”

Removing his hand from his stomach before he woke Sophia, he placed it over Yonatan’s knees, and the prince rested a hand over the fingers. A few drops of liquid hit the large knuckles. He must be crying too, but he was smiling so big it hurt.

“Damn my father.” Yonatan chuckled, “You’re training her so she can avoid that fate. She’s becoming part of the forest in advance to joining with its essence.”

He wiped his tears, “Yonah,” he said, and made sure the giant was looking at him through clear lenses, “If you do your job properly, Sophia will be the most powerful King in the history of the Woods. But we won't lose her.”

The giant was smiling too, “I was worried” he sniffed “you stupid perceptive smartass.”

“It’s a blessing. Sometimes,” Yonatan giggled and let the giant scoop him up into a hug.

The hug was a bit tighter than felt safe, but Yonatan didn’t protest. He was grateful the giant held him above his stomach. Beneath him he felt the beating of the giant’s heart. Noticeably quick but along with the prince’s was slowing down.

It had been the right decision to come here after all. Maybe the Woods had called to him somehow, when he figured it out, dragging him out here because he was needed. And he needed this too. If he hadn’t told Yonah, he wouldn’t have known Sophia was being trained, and wouldn’t have figured out what that meant. Yonah would have been left to believe he was training his best friend to become an emotionless vessel.

Then Yonah started and breathed in sharply. He dropped Yonatan onto the table.

“She’s awake. Excuse me,” he said and into the stairwell.

Yonatan couldnt imagine what floor Yonah had gone to but it was clearly nearby as he heard the muffled retching.

Ten minutes later Yonah returned with a smiling Sophia sitting on his shoulder. From Yonah’s now clean shaven goatee he deduced that Yonah had spit her up in the bathroom. Sophia was wearing her day clothes, which she must have slept in, but she was completely immaculate. Not even a hair out of place in her massive braid. She even had on her golden tiara.

“Yonatan!” she hopped off Yonah’s shoulder the moment he was near enough to the table.

She ran up to her brother and embraced him, “When did you get here?”

Yonatan tried very hard not to cry as he held his sister. Her energy was so infectious, her personality so forceful, there was no way she could end up like their dad even if the traininging did nothing. No way. He would not allow it.

“Last night- uh” he said, and opening his eyes he saw Yonah, standing behind Sophia, give him a warning hand motion.

Sophia pulled herself away from her brother but kept her hands on his shoulder, “last NIGHT? Hold on- Why-”

“I got, a bit anxious, you know how it is… And since you well, um- eaten... Yonah helped calm me down.”

Sophia scowled for a moment, not because Yonatan had cuddled up with her giant while she was in said giant's gut, but because Yonah had not woken her! He’d let her sleep without telling her that her brother had ran away from home in panic. Sure he’d been more than capable of handling it, but this was her brother!

“Yes, he is good for that,” she affirmed. Then got distracted as Yonah got out a second set of human sized eating utensils and a set for himself, loading his with the eggs and vegetables.

She let go of Yonatan to snatch her plate and fork from Yonah, and before he’d set his plate down started scooping off a massive but relatively negligible onto hers. He retaliated by eating before she had finished taking her portion. In particular he would scoop away the pieces of vegetables she was carving chunks out of, eating them all. Eventually she managed to get a decent helping of eggs and veggies.

“I'm starving and this smells amazing!” she said, also eating before she’d sat down at the smaller table. Yonatan was a bit impressed she could eat so soon and so easily after being eaten herself. “Ohhh did you roast these with scallops!?”

Mhm, Yonah said though his mouthful of food. “And I used goat’s milk for the eggs.”

“Oh! Why such a treat today?” she asked, taking another bite and savoring it but also eating it quickly because there was plenty more on her plate.

“Well, we have a prince in dining with us!” he said.

Still a little hungry, Yonatan, without asking, but with a bit of a side glance from Yonah, took a second serving of eggs off the giant’s plate. He sat down next to Sophia and poured her some of the apple blueberry juice. And another cup for himself, it was so delicious. Plus it had stayed chilled in the magic pitcher.

Princess Sophia snorted, “Well I'm not complaining!”

The rest of breakfast was pleasant. Yonatan updated Sophia on the goings on back in Orr, and Sophia told him all about her adventures and magic lessons. Sophia was excited to hear all the stupid gossip about the lower nobility. Yonatan had a million questions about each spell and potion she mentioned, which Yonah answered as best he could, going into enough detail for the prince but keeping it brief to not bore Sophia.

“I think I should probably check in with the castle…” Yonatan said a bit sheepishly.

Sophia’s eyes got wide, “Does anyone know where you are?”

Yonatan’s face grew hot, “N-no. I snuck out.”

“You’re going to be in so much trouble!” There was no pity in her voice.

“We can use my mirror,” Yonah said, clearing the table and taking the humans up to the workshop.

There was no need for any rhyme, as Yonatan touched the gold filigree and asked it plainly to connect to His Majesty King Ben. The mirror made a bit of a surprised noise but then turned foggy. It still took a few minutes to connect. Ben’s personal mirror would not show anything until he answered the call, to avoid anyone snooping.

While they were waiting Yonatan decided he didn’t want to face his father and had slowly been inching away. So that when Ben’s torso appeared in the mirror he only saw Sophia and Yonah behind her. Ben looked a little ragged and twitchy, his eyes brighter than normal, beard unshaven, his complexion a bit green, making him look like a tree with a bit of moss starting to grow on it.

“Sophia, darling, is this urgent? We have an emergency, your brother-” Then he stopped, narrowing his eyes.

“Uhuh” Sophia noticed her brother was out of view and motioned to Yonah, who pushed Yonatan to Sophia’s side, she took his shoulders and grinned at her father. “Guess who showed up last night?”

The King’s face was one of instant relief, smiling like he was about to cry. “Yonatan!”

Then his face hardened, his eyes pulsed with power. And Yonatan tensed in anticipation; Sophia squoze his shoulders, and Yonah backed up. They could hear the trees rustling outside. His Mystic Majesty was about to explode.

“YOUNG MAN DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED WE’VE BEEN! I WOKE THE WHOLE CITY! YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!”

~At least it was through a mirror and not in person ~

[FIN] if you liked PLEASE REBLOG!

REBLOGS HELP SPREAD MY WORK! I also love knowing that people read my stories! My askbox and DMs are OPEN!!! let me know!!!

[Thanks for reading! please reblog! Or message me telling me what you think! I crave feedback! For more mystic woods go to vore-scientist.tumblr.com/tagged/mystic+woods+story or search ‘mystic woods story’]

#safe vore #soft vore #g/t vore #extreme cuddling #nonfatal vore

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tobiasfailsatlife · 5 years ago

Text

Klance Aladdin Headcannon Pt.2

The next day Keith comes out of his lamp to find Lance struggling to put on his prince clothes

“How the heck am I supposed to wear this, Pidge? I can’t even put it on!” Lance says, not even noticing Keith behind him.

Keith snaps his fingers and watches Lance jump as his prince clothes appear on him.

“Holy shit! Do not do that! Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me,” Lance says.

“Ready do impress the princess?” Keith asks with a sad smile.

“Hell yeah!” Lance says excitedly before looking at Keith. When he sees that Keith kind of looms sad, he gets concerned. “Are you ok?”

“Uh, yeah. Just… tired,” Keith says forcing a smile.

“I can’t wait to see the Princess. I mean she might not recognize me but… I know she’s the one for me. I met her before I knew she was a princess and we just connected, you know? I feel like it was the type of connection you only feel with a soulmate,”

Keith smiles despite wanting to cry. He buries all his prior feelings for Lance and promises that all his interactions with Lance will now be strictly professional

Then Keith creates a whole grand opening for Lance and decides to play Lance’s right-hand man when meeting the Sultan.

Lance makes a great impression on the sultan and actually is really good at smooth-talking and conversing with royalty. Keith can’t help but be impressed by this boy.

He notices that the Sultas advisor, Zarkon keeps doubting Lance, questioning him in every way.

Keith is surprised when a nearby guard smiles at him, full-on checking him out. *In all fairness, Keith looks HOT in his red outfit*

He ignores it though and focuses on Lance. Then he sees Princess Allura emerge.

“I’m Prince Lancelot. You must be Princess Allura, right?” Lance says. Keith watches as he gives her a soft smile and frowns, wishing Lance would look at him like that

Keith watches as Allura seems almost repulsed by Lance and storms away. He watches as Lance’s face fills with sadness before quickly pulling a smile on when talking to the sultan

Keith can’t help but walk up to Lance as soon as he sees the Sultan’s focus shift away from Lance

“Lance, are you ok?”

“I think I messed up, Keith,”

“Do you really love her?” Keith asks, looking him straight in the eye.

“What do you mean? Yes! Of course I do!” Lance says, surprised at Keith’s question

Pushing down all feeling of sadness and rejection, Keith smiles and says “Let’s get your Princess tonight then. Ok? I’ll plan something for the two of you,”

Lance gives Keith a soft smile and thanks him, leaving Keith with mixed feelings. Sad because Lance loves the princess, but happy that Lance will be happy. *Also Keith feels kind of jittery because of how Lance just smiled at him

Keith and Lance are given a room by the sultan and Keith decides to create a game plan with Lance

“So I have this carpet. It’s magic and I think you’ll really like it. Actually it’s a wolf but it can shapeshifter into a carpet,” Keith says. Then he zaps up a beautiful magic carpet that are the same colors as Cosmo. “This is Cosmo. He’s kept me company for a while now,”

Lance watches in awe as the carpet flies.

“Do you want me to teach you how to fly it? I mean it’s not that difficult but a short ride wouldn’t hurt. You’re not afraid of heights, right?” Keith asks.

Lance eagerly learns how to fly Cosmo with Keith. Lance learns that Cosmo can teleport as well and anyone who holds on to him will teleport with him. Pidge watches the two of them leave and rolls her eyes because she was left behind (giving Pidge pronouns she/her because what pronouns she prefers weren’t clear)

Lance finds himself shrieking at Keith flies Cosmo quickly. Lance is scared of falling off and has never been this high up in his life.

“You know you can hold onto me if you want,” Keith offers softly as they fly.

“C-cool,” Lance says, gently wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist. Keith can’t help but blush as he feels Lance hold on to him.

After a while, Keith let’s Lance steer and smiles as Lance whoops in delight as he flies Cosmo through the sky.

Keith involuntarily wraps his arms around Lance’s waist as he flies faster and visibly feels Lance tense up.

“Sorry,” Keith says blushing.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind,” Lance says blushing as well. When Keith doesn’t move to wrap his arms around Lance’s waist, Lance slows down and slowly wraps Keith’s arms around his waist.

Keith CANT stop blushing as Lance does it because OH MY GOD WHAT IF HE LIKES HIM

“Now I won’t have to worry about you falling off,” Lance teases. To be honest, Lance really like the way it felt when Keith wrapped his arms around him.

When they get back, Keith’s hair is very messy from the wind blowing through it and is an absolute blushing mess because he didn’t let go of Lance for the rest of the time.

“Oh god, that was so fun,” Lance says with a laugh as he sits down. “Pidge, you should’ve been there!” He says looking at his monkey friend

Keith looks at Lance’s messy hair and has stop himself from reaching out and touching it to fix it.

“Are you ok, Keith? You’re all red! Oh my god your hair is so messy! You look adorable,” Lance said with a loud laugh. Keith just blushes harder because Lance called him adorable

“Yeah I’m fine. It’s been such a long time since I took Cosmo out for a ride,” Keith said. Cosmo shapeshifted back into a wolf to be gently petted by Keith.

Lance also reaches out and pets Cosmo, coming closer to Keith.

Keith smiles at Lance and watches Lance slowly give him a happy smile.

They stare at each other for a few seconds before Keith remembers the Princess

“Your Princess is waiting,” Keith mutters, pain somewhat obvious in his voice

“Princess? Oh! Allura!” Lance says taking a step back from Keith.

“Yeah, you should probably go,” Keith said, folding his arms and looking at Lance. “Cosmo will be good,” Keith said. Cosmo snapped back into his carpet form and let Lance climb on top of him.

“Bye Keith,” Lance said as he flew out the window.

“Bye” Keith muttered. He then zapped himself into some comfy black clothes. Keith watched Allura and Lance the entire time. He watched as Allura wrapped her arms around Lance as he flew the magic carpet past the palace walls. He watched them smile and laugh and talk. He didn’t want to see anymore

For the first time in many, many years Keith found himself crying. He couldn’t go in his lamp because Lance had it. He didn’t know why he thought he and Lance or ‘Prince Lancelot’ might have been a thing. He cried for a long time, on his lamp. Then, after a few minutes, he realized that Lance hadn’t come back. Cosmo teleported to him and let out a worried barked

Then, Lance rubbed the lamp and Keith was teleported to inside the lamp, only to be forced out of it.

“Why are we… underwater?” Keith asked, slowly turning around to see Lance passed out in the water.

“Lance! Wake up!” Keith said shaking him violently. “I can’t help you if you don’t make a wish!” Keith cried.

“Think, Keith! Think! Ok, Lance. We’re gonna bend the rules here, ok? You rubbed the lamp which means you wanted to make a wish? So using my best judgement I’m going to assume your wish was to be out of this water and saved, right? Right? I saw a nod. I’m getting you out of here,” Keith said, zapping them both out of the water and into their room.

“Please wake up. Please let me not have been too late,” Keith muttered, laying Lance in the floor. When Lance coughed up water and started breathing Keith almost cried with relief.

He gently cradled Lance as he coughed and shivered. “You’re going to be ok,” Keith muttered, holding Lance tightly.

When Lance stopped coughing and was breathing normally he hugged Keith.

“Thanks,” Lance said, giving him a big hug.

“Don’t thank me. It cost you a wish,” Keith said.

“I don’t care,” Lance said.

“Do you want to change? I mean you’re all wet,” Keith said when he was 100% sure Lance was ok.

Lance changed and, with the help of Keith, told the sultan that Zarkon had tried to kill him.

Zarkon is arrested

After they get back to the room, Keith asks Lance if he wants to change

“Uh, yeah,” Lance said. He walked towards the wardrobe and glanced at all the colorful night time outfits.

“Blue,” Keith blurted out as Lance reached for the green one.

“What?” Lance said, turning his head towards Keith.

“Nevermind, sorry,” Keith said, embarrassed. He liked Lance in blue. It matched his ocean eyes.

“You want me to wear the blue one?” Lance said putting down the green one and grabbing the light blue one.

“No! I mean yes! I mean wear whatever you want,” Keith said blushing.

“I’ll wear blue,” Lance said, pausing for a moment, “but you have to wear red,”

“Ok,” Keith said blushing. He zapped himself into a red nighttime outfit.

He stared at Lance for a second “Can I zap you into your clothes?”

“Since when do you ask?” Lance said with a smirk.

Keith rolled his eyes and zapped Lance into his blue outfit. “Did the outfit get smaller or something?” Lance asked, realize how much it hugged him.

Keith blushes because he hadn’t meant to make it tighter. He snapped his fingers and the fabric went back to its normal form.

“Thanks. You look nice in red,” Lance said, giving Keith a smile. Keith blushed (something he’d been doing a lot more lately)

“Um, thanks. Wait! How did you date go with Allura?” Keith asked (despite knowing exactly how it went).

“It went ok,” Lance said.

“Just ok?” Keith asked, holding back a smile.

“Yeah, I mean getting kidnapped and thrown into the water wasn’t ideal. But Allura was… nice. I mean I think she likes me but I’m not sure if I ... never mind. Yeah, it went well. I had a good time. What are those gold things around your arms?”

“They represent my servitude as a genie. I can’t remember the last time they weren’t there.”

There’s a moment of silence and Lance studies him for a few seconds.

“Ok, well, I’ll let you sleep. Good night,” Keith said, different thoughts entering his mind. What if he didn’t like her as much as he thought he did?

“You know, they have two beds in this room. You don’t have to go in your lamp,” Lance said.

“Yeah,” Keith said. He looked at how the beds were about two feet apart and one bigger than the other. Going against his gut, he sat down on the smaller one.

Lance was surprised but happy and faced Keith as he laid down.

After about an hour of laying down, Keith opens his eyes slightly to find Lance studying. He swears he hears him say “You're pretty,”

The next morning Keith woke up to find Lance’s eyes on him.

“Hi,” Keith said, blushing.

“Hi,” Lance said, watching the raven-haired genie rub his eyes and sit up. He looked really nice in red.

After lunch with the Princess, Lance realized Keith’s lamp was missing.

Keith’s lamp is rubbed but he feels like something is wrong. He realizes that Zarkon had somehow acquired his lamp

“Who are you?” Keith hisses as he sees Zarkon.

“I knew you were different. I am your new, more competent master. For my first wish, I want to be sultan of Altea,,” Zarkon said. Keith couldn’t believe it. So this was the guy. The evil sadistic master he was expecting. Keith’s hands betrayed him as the magic he’d been given worked for Zarkon.

Something in him knew innocent people would be hurt. He watched as Sultan Alfor was forced in, Allura screaming behind him. He watched as his magic forced his royal clothes on Zarkon. He watched as Allura looked at him with disgust.

“You! Why must you do this? Why must you conspire against Lancelot with you evil powers!” Allura screamed at him. Keith remained quiet and put his head down. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the lamp on the throne and Lance who was hiding. Zarkon laughed as all of the sultan’s guards turned against him.

Then, Lance made a run for the lamp, only to be hit away by Zarkon.

“Lance,” Keith whispered as he saw the boy thrown to the ground.

“You stupid asshole,” Lance muttered getting up.

“Genie, for my second wish, I want to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world,” Zarkon ordered. Once again, Keith felt his magic being used against him.

“Allura, this prince is nothing but a boy,” Zarkon said putting Lance back i

“My first order will be to banish you to the coldest poles in this world,” Zarkon said to Lance. In an instant, Lance found himself and Pidge teleported to an icy- cold pole.

Keith was freaking out at this point until he saw Cosmo. “Go!” Keith ordered and Cosmo quickly teleported away to find Lance and Pidge.

Zarkon makes Lotor known as his son and orders Princess and Allura to marry him

Keith recognizes Lotor as the guard from earlier, the one who looked at him. Keith sees Lotor looking at him now as well

“Father, as tempting as it is to marry a Princess, I must remind you that Allura is no longer royalty. You stripped her father from the throne.” Zarkon thinks about what his son has to say before agreeing reluctantly.

“I want to marry a high source of power and from what I’ve seen, this genie seems to possess a great deal of magic” Lotor says.

At this point, Keith is just hoping that Lance is safe. He’s fine with dealing with whatever Zarkon would do to him alone.

Lance finds Pidge in an icy biome and after Cosmo finds him, he’s teleported back to Altea.

“Is Keith ok?” Lance whispers to Cosmo. Cosmo just whimpers, but he knows Keith doesn’t want him to help him.

Zarkon eventually talks Lotor into marrying Allura, claiming that Keith could also be a part of his life as a prince

“I will never be your wife!” Allura yells, holding her father in her arms

Zarkon, not wanting to tolerate her rebellion tries to use his last wish. “Genie, I wish that Allura was desperately in love with Lotor”

“Um I can’t make anyone fall in love with another person,” Keith says, crossing his arms. Zarkon yells and berates Keith, ordering him to do as he says

Then, Keith sees Lance out of the corner of his eye and so does Allura. Glancing at one another and then the lamp, Keith and Allura both know they must distract Lotor and Zarkon

Then Allura smiles at Lotor, causing Zarkon to give a scarified smile. “That’s more like it, genie” he says

When they have Lotor and Zarkon’s attention, Lance runs to the lamp, only to be frozen in place by Zarkon. Allura stops smiling, her eyes filling with fear.

“Back so soon? It seems like I will need to eliminate you… permanently,” Zarkon says. Slowly, red smoke fills the air, and Zarkon shapeshifters into a large serpent

Keith can’t do anything as Lance is slowly crushed. Zarkon still has his lamp in his grips.

“I am the most powerful being in the universe” Zarkon says, laughing maniacally as he slowly squeezes Lance to death.

“No you’re not” Lance says

“What do you mean?” Zarkon hisses, loosening his grip slighlty

“T-the genie! He- he gave you your power, he can take it away. He’ll always be more powerful than you!”

Keith looks at Lance his eyes turning wide, wondering what the hell he’s doing. And then it clicks.

“Genie!” Zarkon roars, “I wish, I was an all-powerful genie,”

Keith smiles as magic flies freely from his hands. Zarkon laughs are soon cut short as he sees golden bands forming on his arms. He finds himself dragging Lotor down with him as he’s pulled into a dark looking lamp.

Soon, the dark magic Zarkon casted disappears, leaving the palace in its original state.

Lance runs to Keith, letting Allura tend to her father

“Keith! You’re ok!” Lance said, engulfing him in a tight hug

“Yeah, been through worse. Are you ok though? It looks like you’ve been beaten up pretty badly,” Keith said.

“Pfft! This is nothing. I’m fine!” Lance says with a laugh. “Actually I might not be but I’m ok for now,”

Keith stares at Lance for a second before saying “I was worried about you,”

For a few seconds they stop and forget reality, staring at each other for a few seconds. Then Lance hears Princess Allura’s voice and turns around.

Lance holds Keith’s lamp and stares at it for a few seconds.

“Well, ready to go get your princess, Prince Lancelot?” Keith said, giving Lance a sad smile.

“I’m not a prince,” Lance said

“I can make you one again,” Keith said, ignoring the small ache he felt in his chest.

“Fine,” Lance said. At least Keith would be able to see him dressed as a prince one last time. Perhaps he’d make this outfit blue.

“I wish…” Lance begun.

“Whenever you’re ready. Remember! Invite me to the wedding,” Keith said.

“I wish you were free, Keith” Lance said with a sigh.

“One princ- what?” Keith said as he watched magic forming around him.

“I said I wish you were free,” Lance said, gently grabbing Keith’s hand.

Keith watched his arms in awe as the golden bands were removed.

“Lance, no,” Keith said as the smoke around him disappeared. “Lance you can’t do this,” Keith said. “There must be a way to get your wish back,”

“I don’t want my wish back. I don’t want to be a prince,” Lance said, squeezing Keith’s hand.

“I’ll talk to Allura and the sultan. I’m sure that she loves you-“ Keith says.

“I don’t love her,” Lance says, letting out a deep breathe.

“What?”

“You asked me if I loved her before and I don’t love Allura. I mean, I thought I did but I don’t think that that is what I want,”

“Well then what do you want?” Keith let go of Lance’s hand to cross to his arms.

“I-I don’t exactly know yet but I think you’re gonna be a part of whatever I want. I mean, I hope you feel the same way about that,” Lance let’s put a nervous laugh.

Keith just stares absolutely dumbfounded because he can’t believe what he just heard

“God, I was stupid for saying that. Just preten-“

Then Keith just kisses him because HOLY FUCK HE LIKES HIM

Anyways that’s enough 1am story ideas with my best friend and I

Let’s hope this doesn’t floppp

#klance #voltronklance #klancevolton #klance headcanons #klanceau #keithxlance #keith kogane #lance and keith #keith and lance #klanceaus #klancecannon #klancealaddin #lance voltron #keith voltron #klancestory #klance is canon king

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anghraine · 5 years ago

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pro patria, chapters 29-35

“We need real Seraph here in Queensdale, not politicians.” Logan considered him in silence, then simply shrugged and strode past him, leaving the man flushed and glowering. Softly, I said, “Watch your tongue.”

title: pro patria (29/35/?) stuff that happens: Althea and Logan confront Tervelan.

verse: Ascalonian grudgefic characters/relationships: Althea Fairchild, Logan Thackeray, Captain Tervelan; Queen Jennah, Minister Arton, others; Althea & Logan chapters: 1-7, 8-14, 15-21, 22-28

TWENTY-NINE 1 “I need to talk to Tervelan myself,” Logan told me. “Meet me at the Eldvin Monastery. I’ll get there as soon as I can.” I nodded, and Logan dropped his hand, clenching it into a gauntleted fist. “If he’s responsible for the Falcon Company incident, we’ll make sure he answers for it.” At that, I managed to summon up a smile. “Yes,” I said, “we will.” 2 Despite the if, Logan seemed to have entirely relinquished his first shocked doubts. When I spoke to him again before I headed back to the waypoint, he said, “Once Tervelan finds out you’re alive, he won’t sit around waiting for you to come after him. You should head to Eldvin Monastery now.” It was abrupt—and abrupt was exactly what we needed right now. “I’m on my way,” I assured him. He was right, all the more as I’d taken up valuable time in rushing to Divinity’s Reach first. The gods only knew what Tervelan was up to. 3 I didn’t stop to change my clothes; with one deep breath, I raced back to the waypoint, shoving coins at the guard—I didn’t even check the denomination—and then headed more cautiously towards the monastery. Logan’s as soon as I can turned out to be very soon indeed; he was already there. “Tervelan’s a traitor,” he murmured, face somber. “It’s hard to believe; whoever played him really knew how to manipulate people.” “They played on his weak spots,” I agreed—they must have, whoever they were—”but he made the choice himself.” My jaw tightened. “He should pay.” 4 “He will,” Logan promised me, tone grim. With that, he headed towards the monastery, slowing after a moment to match his stride to my much shorter one. As we entered the courtyard, my muscles tight as I realized my back was entirely unprotected, one lieutenant looked us up and down with open contempt. “The queen’s little loverboy has some nerve showing his face here,” he said. Remembering Shaemoor, I returned his disdainful stare with one of my own. Logan was many things, but presumptuous was not one of them—nor little. He laughed and went on, “Did you two come in a golden carriage?” 5 My eyes narrowed. I wasn’t foolish enough to draw a weapon based on words alone, but I kept my hand close to my scabbard. “What do you mean by that, soldier?” I snapped. The lieutenant glared up at Logan; it was a good ways up. “We need real Seraph here in Queensdale, not politicians.” Logan considered him in silence, then simply shrugged and strode past him, leaving the man flushed and glowering. Softly, I said, “Watch your tongue.” 6 The lieutenant flinched, then gave another sneer and retreated to his post. Another guard, however, seemed to have been paying close attention; as I moved to catch up with Logan, this one caught my sleeve. “Captain Thackeray’s here?” he said, peering over my shoulder. He looked nervous, but sounded nearly hopeful. “Is … is he going to replace Captain Tervelan?” I tilted my head to the side. “You almost sound as if you’d like that idea.” 7 Raw terror flashed over his face. “No, no … I wouldn’t do anything against Tervelan … forget I said that—please?” I nodded at him, reassured that not everyone seemed to be on Tervelan's side. “Noted.” With that, I ran after Logan, ignoring his faint smile as I clambered up the stairs after him. From here, we could both make out Tervelan, staring us down with his arms crossed. Logan leaned his head down and whispered, “Ready, little sister?” THIRTY 1 “Ready, captain,” I said. As we approached, shoulder-to-shoulder (or, well, head-to-shoulder), Tervelan’s features twisted into a grimace, the expression making him look more weasel-like than ever. “Oh, look,” he said, “it’s my lucky day. The city kid is back again, and this time”—his eyes narrowed—“you brought Captain Thackeray.” I was immediately certain that I’d made the right choice in doing so. Following Logan’s lead, however, I stayed silent. “Two heroes for the price of one!” said Tervelan; pointedly looking around, he added, “Hm, nobody’s smiling?” 2 My well of patience, never deep, evaporated. “You left me and Bigsby alone at that centaur camp on purpose,” I burst out. “Were you hoping we wouldn’t make it out alive? Was I getting too close to the truth about what happened to Falcon Company?” Tervelan stepped closer, the movement infused with menace. I repressed the urge to step back; I’d never backed away from anything, and least of all with Logan at my side. “You dare accuse a real soldier of treason?” 3 I simply lifted my chin. Tervelan was not at all my idea of a real soldier. “If you’d seen half what I’ve seen,” he growled, “you’d fall out of your boots!” Oh, please. The day he fought abominations from the Underworld in Godslost Swamp, we’d talk. “Just because you run around with the queen’s lackey, her boyfriend, you think you can undermine my authority?” By his triumphant look, Tervelan expected this to be a winning blow. 4 Logan not only didn’t recoil and run away, or whatever it was that Tervelan anticipated, he didn’t so much as twitch. I glanced up at him, ready to abide by his decision—so long as that decision brought me closer to finding what had happened to Deborah. It was obedience, for me. Logan studied Tervelan with steady grey eyes, then said coolly, “That’s crossing the line, Tervelan. You’re hereby relieved of your command.” Only my refusal to show weakness before Tervelan kept my expression neutral. I’d gone to Logan because I trusted him and because I was acting as his representative, but somehow I hadn’t really imagined him turning on another Seraph, on my word alone. 5 “I’m taking you back to Divinity’s Reach for questioning,” Logan went on, just as calmly. “I’d prefer you come peacefully.” Tervelan’s sneer shifted into a snarl. “Sorry to disappoint you. Gordan! Reginald! Muster the men!” 6 “One hundred gold to the soldier who silences these two, for good!” I drew a sharp breath. “He’s ordering his Seraph to kill us? Will they do it?” After all that I’d seen, and all that I’d heard, I still found it difficult to believe. The Ministry were the suspect ones, the Seraph were—they were Deborahs and Logans, they were the soldiers I’d helped and received help from— “They might,” said Logan grimly. 7 “Listen here!” he shouted. “Anyone who attacks us will be committing treason! I will show no mercy to anyone who turns against Kryta for gold or who protects a traitor like Tervelan!” Afterwards, I was never sure if I should say that a whole half of Tervelan’s command listened—or that only half did. Regardless, we had to fight a number of highly trained Seraph in addition to Tervelan himself, while other Seraph ran up to defend Logan and me from Tervelan’s loyalists, and the priests shouted and cried at the sudden outbreak. The battle was one of utter chaos: Seraph against Seraph, captain against captain, and me and all the clones I could muster, swinging the balance. We won; but it was a victory with little joy in it. THIRTY-ONE 1 “No more!” screamed Tervelan, shrinking away from bolts of aether and Logan’s sword. “I surrender! Enough—I surrender!” He and his lackeys promptly dropped their weapons, shoulders slumping as their fellow soldiers put them under guard and seized the weaponry. The priests eyed all of us from their alcoves and doorways, not trusting this latest turn of fortunes. I didn’t either. Shoving my sceptre into its sling on my back, I kept my sword at his throat. 2 So did Logan. And while mine was mostly a conduit for aether, his was long and sharp. It pricked Tervelan’s throat as the man dropped to his knees. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know!” I glanced at the trickle of blood, and felt nothing but satisfaction. Pressing my sword closer, I demanded, “Did you send Falcon Company into an ambush?” Tervelan looked everywhere except at the two of us, then squeezed his eyes shut. 3 Finally, he lifted his gaze to Logan and me. “I didn’t want to do it,” he muttered, then flinched back from our incredulous looks. “My soldiers were starving, our equipment was ruined. I had to do something or the centaurs would have killed us all!” A shadow of his old disdain returned to his face. “So, yes, I sold out Falcon Company so that some politician could say the queen was a bad ruler.” Tervelan glanced down at the swords and gulped. 4 “But the rest of my command lived. I got funds to re-equip my soldiers, munitions, decent rations, and a promotion. My command’s killed more centaurs than the rest of the Seraph combined—thanks to Falcon Company’s sacrifice.” Logan and I drew equally sharp breaths. No, this was no sacrifice. Sacrifice had to be willing, conscious—one thing when a soldier risked their life in battle, and quite another when they were sold out by their own commander. He could dress it up all he liked; it was treason. 5 “Who paid you?” growled Logan. “Give me a name, now, or by Lyssa’s tears, you will never see the outside of a prison cell again.” Tervelan shuddered. “I … I never met the man,” he said, “but he signed his letters ‘Minister Arton.’ That’s all I know, I swear it.” Logan’s eyes widened, his sword giving a slight jerk. Tervelan squeaked. 6 “Arton’s one of the queen’s advisors. We need to warn Jennah—and fast. She may be in danger.” I nodded. “Tervelan,” Logan announced, “by my authority as a captain of the queen’s Seraph, you’re under arrest.” With every appearance of little effort, he hoisted Tervelan to his feet, and bound his hands behind his back with a piece of rope offered by one of the loyal Seraph. I shoved my sword back in its scabbard, glaring at the traitor. 7 “You can’t put me in prison,” Tervelan insisted. “I’m a Seraph captain!” “Not any more,” said Logan. “I did what was right for Kryta! Someone had to do it—let me go!” “Falcon Company deserved better than this, Tervelan,” I said coldly. “Deborah deserved better.” THIRTY-TWO 1 He flushed. “Don’t you understand? This was how we drew enough attention to our cause to get aid! Supplies! Weapons!” “You sold them out, Tervelan,” I told him, my free hand clenching. “That’s all I see—a traitor, and a disgrace to the uniform.” 2 I turned my back on him and walked away without regret, leaving two of the Seraph to lead him into one of the empty ale carts. Logan kept an eye on them, his expression grim. “I’ll take Tervelan back to Divinity’s Reach and lock him up,” he told me. “Meet me at the palace—we’ll warn the queen about Minister Arton together.” I hesitated, then said, “Tervelan’s slippery, and someone has a vested interest in not letting him talk.” “No visitors, no ministers,” Logan assured me. “I’ll make sure of it.” 3 I thanked him, and trusting his capabilities, headed towards the main entrance, my heart still pounding in my ears. Several of the priests were starting to creep out; I reassured them as well as I could, silently thanking Faren for my years of smiling on cue. At the main gate, I paused to catch my breath, and heard the jingle of armour silencing just behind me. Someone was following me. I cautiously dropped my hand to my sword—and felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the nervous Seraph from before. “Tervelan commanded my unit,” he said earnestly, “but I serve Kryta; my loyalties lie with Logan and the queen.” 4 He was looking for approval, I realized—approval from the woman who had repeatedly blasted Tervelan off his feet, at that. I summoned up one last smile. “Glad to have you on our side, soldier. Carry on.” It was odd, to think that Seraph could be as unsure of themselves and their choices as anyone else, as hesitant or eager, as loyal or confused. I glanced back at the cart. As corrupt. 5 Foolishly, perhaps, I detoured to Salma upon my return to Divinity’s Reach. I had worn these stained and dirty clothes so far, but before the queen? One had to draw a line somewhere. My mother arrived just as I was rushing out in fresh silks. “Althea!” “Hello, Mama,” I said. “And goodbye—I have to go see Queen Jennah.” 6 “The queen?” she exclaimed. “Althea, what are you up to?” “It’s a state secret,” I told her, and kissing her cheek, hurried through one of the free waypoints to the palace, nearly tripping over my own feet on the way out. Hopefully I wouldn’t before the queen herself. I took a deep breath before the gate to the throne room, looked at the Shining Blade guards, and demanded entrance. “By whose permission?” demanded one of them, looking me up and down. “Captain Logan Thackeray’s,” I said proudly. 7 With much more reluctance, I added, “I’m Lady Althea Fairchild, the … the hero of Shaemoor.” The guards’ expression cleared. “He said to expect you,” the second one said, and both stepped aside, pushing the door open for me. I entered as quietly as possible, and nearly walked right into Logan, who steadied me but seemed otherwise preoccupied in surveying the room. I did the same, searching for anything suspicious or dangerous—but I, at least, found nothing. Queen Jennah, looking as healthy and lovely as ever, stood beside her throne, deep in conversation with Anise, while several ministers milled inoffensively around. At a gesture from Logan, I followed him towards them, and knelt before my queen. THIRTY-THREE 1 Queen Jennah, with a surprised look, told us to rise, and something in her soft voice had me doing so without thought. “Sorry to intrude, your Majesty,” said Logan, clattering to his feet while I dusted off my skirt, “but this can’t wait. There’s a traitor in the Ministry.” I had no idea if she reciprocated his devotion or not; either way, her voice and gaze remained steady. “That’s a serious accusation, captain. Can you provide the required evidence the back up your claim?” I had always felt loyal to her, as a Krytan citizen and one of her nobles; now, I decided that I liked her. 2 “We’re working on it, your Majesty,” I said, meeting her dark eyes directly. “Captain Tervelan confessed that a minister ordered him to reveal patrol routes to the enemy. The Screaming Falcons died because of it.” She paled. One of her advisors said, “Impossible! A minister would never betray our soldiers.” I nearly rolled my eyes, remembering Zamon; at this point, I wouldn’t put anything past anyone. 3 “I wish this matter investigated immediately, your Majesty. The Ministry’s honour is at stake,” the advisor went on. He squared his shoulders and looked around at all of us, seeming more tired than anything else. “Captain Tervelan’s command is within my ministerial jurisdiction. I’m the one who works directly with him; I’m the one impugned.” Arton, I realized. I had not expected so convenient an acknowledgment; we hadn’t even needed to mention his name. 4 “I’m not guilty of these crimes, your Majesty,” he said quietly. “I’m loyal to you, and to Kryta. As a show of faith, I place myself completely in your hands.” I felt rather uncomfortable; a denial must be expected, of course, but I was used to … defiance, bravado, insults, not this sort of meek acceptance. “Thank you, Arton,” said the queen, her manner gracious, but revealing nothing. “The Shining Blade will take you into custody, and you’ll be kept under house arrest while we get to the bottom of this.” He nodded. 5 It didn’t feel right. Maybe that was the idea, but I’d never seen anyone apprehend a culprit so easily as the Shining Blade did Arton; they had only to step forward, and he held out his wrists. Once they led him away, Anise stirred. Her usual sly smile was entirely absent. “Logan, I remember that one Seraph transferred out of Tervelan’s company just after the Falcons were ambushed—Sergeant Hal. He might know something.” Logan and I both brightened up; maybe the trail hadn’t ended here, after all. 6 “Hal?” Logan said, recognition in his face. He and Anise really did seem to know everyone. “As I recall, he patrols the eastern edge of Divinity’s Reach. Hero”—he smiled slightly at me—“why don’t you find out what he knows? I’ll guard the queen.” Anise sighed, but I could not imagine him doing anything else. Just as Faren would be Faren, Logan would be Logan. 7 I was more surprised that he pulled me a little aside, as Queen Jennah spoke to the remaining ministers and Anise. Lowering his voice, he said, “Maybe Hal transferred out of Tervelan’s unit because he found out what Tervelan did. See how much he can tell you about the Falcons’ disappearance.” I thought of Deborah, perhaps slaughtered, perhaps enslaved. And I thought of the others, too, and of Tervelan’s shrill, pathetic justifications. I might be running Logan’s errands, but they could hardly be less of a burden. “If he knows something,” I said, “I’ll get him to talk.” THIRTY-FOUR 1 “Good,” Logan said, looking rather like a proud parent. “I want to make sure Jennah’s safe, so you’re on your own. Find Hal at the eastern edge of Divinity’s Reach, and see what he knows.” I gave a crisp nod. “I’ll check in soon.” With a quick (and somewhat painful) shake of hands, he turned back and clanked his way towards Anise. I breathed in, and thought—oh, why not? 2 I walked over to the queen, not daring—presuming, my mother would say—a smile. Now, away from the rest, she did look anxious. “Arton served as a minister under my father, the king; he’s always been supportive of my rule. Could he really be working against me?” I’d rarely felt more out of my depth. “Captain Thackeray and Countess Anise will ensure your safety, your Majesty,” I said at last. “I’ll look into this.” 3 She lifted her eyes, seeming to really see me for the first time. “Thank you, hero. I’m glad to know that this matter is in good hands.” Logan had once spoken of my name reaching her ears; it evidently hadn’t happened yet. But then, she had rather more pressing matters on her mind. “You’ll be safe, your Majesty,” I promised, glancing over at Anise and Logan, “and I’ll discover the truth of this. I swear it.” 4 Anise caught me as I headed towards the door. She looked vaguely amused once more. “Accusing a minister in front of the queen? I knew you were bold, but I didn’t realize you were fearless.” Hardly that. “Not fearless,” I told her. “Determined.” 5 “I see,” said Anise, which could mean anything. “Well, hurry on; we’re all quite fascinated.” Minister Caudecus, when I approached, looked more irritable than fascinated. But well he might be; I remembered Anise’s suspicion that he’d orchestrated Zamon’s death. “You’re stirring up quite a fuss with these accusations,” he said. “Let’s hope you find evidence to justify this commotion.” “I will,” I told him, “and I look forward to presenting it to the queen.” 6 Logan spoke to me one last time, now looking almost fretful. He said, “I’ll be standing by if you need help.” I blinked. “But you said—the queen—” We both glanced over at Jennah and Anise. “I’ll do my part to protect her,” he said, “but she has other protectors, and you don’t, so … just let me know, all right?” Rather touched, I said, “All right.” 7 I’d rarely felt anything but safe in Divinity’s Reach. It was my home. But my shoulders itched as I made my way to the eastern edge; a minister did not act alone, and who knew what agents might be at liberty in the city? It didn’t slow my steps, but my mind darted between fear and resolve, between I’m going to find out the truth and desperately trying to distract myself with wondering about Faren and Yolanda and the rest, telling myself I needed better shoes, and I really should cut my hair or grow it out, it kept getting in my eyes—frightfully impractical, really— I asked some guards along the eastern wall of Rurikton (of course it was Rurikton), and thankfully, Sergeant Hal was both on duty and nearby. I followed their directions, and braced myself. It was now or never. THIRTY-FIVE 1 Sergeant Hal, an amiable-looking Ascalonian with brown hair bound at the back of his head, seemed an unlikely source of answers to all the mysteries confronting us. Nevertheless, he was our only lead, so I cheerfully abused my authority as an Ascalonian noble to interrupt his watch. “Sergeant Hal?” I said, and lowered my voice. “I need to talk to you about Captain Tervelan.” Hal recoiled from me, his mild eyes turning panicked. “Merciful Grenth, I knew this day would come!” He was a good few inches taller than me, but he cowered as if I were a giant. 2 Taken aback, I just stared at him. Almost whimpering, he said, “Did Tervelan send you to kill me?” What the— “No,” I assured him, smiling, “calm down. Thackeray sent me. But tell me: why would Tervelan want you killed?” Hal heaved a great sigh, and though hardly calm—he kept glancing over his shoulder—the immediate terror receded from his face. 3 He dropped his eyes to the ground, a flush creeping up his cheeks, and mumbled, “I delivered Tervelan’s private messages to the ministry and”—his gaze flickered up, and then down again, his shoulders hunching—“to the woods. I didn’t ask who the notes were for, but … oh gods, I knew. I transferred out the moment I could. You have to believe me!” I could almost hear another piece clicking into place. “So that’s how Tervelan communicated with the centaurs.” But there was another piece left—too many pieces. 4 “Who was his contact in the ministry?” I asked. “I don’t know,” he said, but before I could press harder, he finally looked straight at me and said, “but Dansky might. She was a Falcon before transferring to the Lionguard. She’s stationed at Black Haven now.” Frustration built in my throat, though I refused to voice it. I knew of Black Haven—one of the main Lionguard forts down south, supposedly keeping the trade routes safe—but it was past the swamp, beyond Queensdale altogether. I’d never been so far in my life. 5 I didn’t feel like arguing with Logan about going all the way to the Delanian Foothills; sometimes this older-brotherly thing was more trouble than I cared to deal with. Instead, I went to bathe and change into more practical clothes, sent a vague note, very definitely did not tell my mother where I was going, and headed off once more. I’d decided that the journey wouldn’t be too difficult. I could take the Salma waypoint down to Godslost Swamp—it’d be worth the expense to avoid fighting my way through Queensdale—then make my way south through Sojourner’s Way, and down into the foothills. It was easier planned than done. I had scarcely set a foot beyond Queensdale when I found a child whose mother had been abducted by bandits, assorted Lionguard soldiers under attack, and just—bandits. I’d never seen so many in my life; by the time I reached the haven, my new leggings were as stained with dirt and blood as my last. 6 I’d scarcely arrived at Black Haven when I heard yet more bandits just behind me. I raced inside only seconds before the doors slammed closed. “I’m here to help,” I said hastily, before any Lionguard could stab me (or whatever it was that Lionguards did). They were, it seemed, in no position to turn down another set of hands. One soldier who seemed to be in charge of those near her sent me up on the walls to help pour oil, while other soldiers launched cannon balls at the mortars beneath us. Taken altogether, it was one of the nastiest battles I’d ever participated in. I could only think, Welcome to Kessex Hills. 7 After we’d driven the bandits off, I got directions to Danksy; she was keeping watch up by one of the towers. “I don’t have time to talk right now,” she said brusquely. I considered my options, given that I was neither particularly charming nor particularly threatening. Then I straightened up, and said in my most official manner, “Your help could clear up an important legal matter.” It seemed the right answer. Looking concerned, she turned back towards me and said, “In that case, I’ll do what I can to help.” I smiled.

#ascalonian grudgeblog #anghraine's gaming #anghraine's fic #ascalonian grudgefic #althea fairchild #minister arton #sergeant hal #countess anise #queen jennah #logan thackeray #reginald #captain tervelan #guild wars 2 #pro patria

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sayingthesamethings · 5 years ago

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Long Live the King (Part 2)

Pairing: Noctis Lucis Caelum x OC

Summary: To be the Chosen King’s Valkyrie is the greatest honor. For Xael Annesty, it is her greatest challenge. After fleeing from the destruction of Insomnia from her place beside King Regis, she is thrown into Noctis’ hands where she faces the real dangers of the world. Xael fights alongside the four brothers on the path towards restoring the light. Piece by piece, Xael’s purpose falls into place with Noctis’ fate to achieve a goal higher than themselves. While Xael is able to assist on the battlefield, she must look to the others for help to regain what she has been missing.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of death

Author’s Note: This part is pretty long so I had to cut it off so that it didn’t completely devour all of my follower’s dashboards especially for those who aren’t following for this series. Hope you enjoy! Magic Shop is still in progress, just struggling with transitions.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

There was an annoying ringing in Xael’s ears. The constant downpour of droplets on her face further disoriented her.

The cries and howls of Sabertusks disrupted her racing thoughts and, surprisingly, grounded her. Soon, she was able to bring her attention to her physical surroundings.

Xael was able to acknowledge the humid atmosphere and realized that she was laying in wet sand. The mixture of the warm rain and high temperature was nothing like the sunny, temperate summers she experienced in the citadel's gardens back in Insomnia.

Back home.

Slowly, she raised an arm up to shield her eyes as she forced them open. Thankfully, the clouds looming overhead allowed her eyes to adjust quickly. She licked at her chapped lips, but it didn’t do much seeing how she was parched. A groan scratched at her throat.

Where am I? She blinked sluggishly to allow her eyes to adjust. Once she wasn’t totally disoriented, she managed to sit up and further evaluate her situation.

Xael wanted to say she was in the middle of nowhere, but the billboard in the distance and the asphalt road between said otherwise. Swallowing what little moisture she had left in her mouth, she turned over to stand up before she attempted to walk towards the road, where an occasional car would drive by.

She quickly discovered she was heavily injured when the pain in her left leg nearly made her collapse. Cursing under her breath, she grit her teeth and pushed forward at a snail’s pace as the pain of her injuries, previously numbed by sleep, began to make themselves known.

She made it to the road with her heavy limp. One arm hung at her side while the other clutched at an open wound on the opposite shoulder. Noticing that one of the light posts had a payphone, she checked both ways before struggling onto the road.

“How could this all happen?”

“I couldn’t tell--”

“IGGY WATCH OUT!”

Xael just barely saw the sleek black car speeding towards her and narrowly rolled out of the way and onto the dirt off the side of the road. She croaked a prolonged groan as she slid across the wet ground.

A shrill voice broke the silence. “Oh god we killed her.”

“We didn’t kill anyone, Prompto,” an gruff voice denied. The car doors opened, and Xael listened as four people approached.

“Yeah, Iggy did.”

The shrill voice yelped, “What are we gonna do?”

“Enough.” Xael was pushing her face out of the dirt when the man with a prominent accent asked, closer than she expected, “Are you alright, miss?”

The more the man spoke to her, the more her confusion grew. There was a nagging at the back of her mind that was telling her that this voice was familiar. In almost a scrambling manner, Xael spun around so that she could look at the man on one knee, offering her a helping hand.

“Ignis?” she called hesitantly with a scratchy throat. The blonde male narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Miss Xael?” he responded.

Xael took Ignis’ hand and allowed him to help her up. “Ignis, what are you doing here? Where is Prince Noctis?” At that moment, said prince took the opportunity to speak up.

“We don’t have time for this, Ignis. We need to meet up with Cor,” he insisted without even a glance in Xael’s direction. Xael frowned at the response but bowed with her uninjured arm across her chest.

“Prince Noctis,” she greeted respectively.

The prince looked at his friends awkwardly before Ignis spoke up, “Xael, what happened in the city?”

“You were there?” Prompto couldn’t help but voice his thoughts. Xael pursed her lips before she nodded.

“I was on standby outside the room designated for the treaty signing when I heard the situation escalate and weapons being drawn,” she began with a grimace. “I can just barely remember fighting alongside King Regis, but--”

Noctis interjected, “My father? You knew him?”

Ignis took charge and began to formally introduce Xael. “Noct, this is Xael Annesty. She was a part of your father’s personal guard. She and her predecessors have dedicated their lives to protect the line of Lucis.”

An unknown fury took over Noctis. He rushed forward, despite his friends’ protests. He grabbed the fabric at the collar of her shirt and roughly jostled her injured form. Gladiolus pried his grip off of Xael, but it didn’t deter Noctis. He clenched her shirt once more and stared her through enraged eyes.

“How could you let him die?! You were supposed to protect him!” he shouted in pure rage. “Why are you alive when he’s dead?!” He was breathing hard with how upset he was, and didn’t really register the tears welling up in Xael’s eyes until Gladiolus placed a firm hand on his shoulder to draw his attention away from his own rage.

“King Regis is,” Xael faltered and dropped her gaze to stare aimlessly at the ground.

Noctis was taken aback. Out of surprise, he unknowingly released Xael’s shirt, and she crumpled to the ground. Xael fell to her knees with her one arm barely supporting her shocked form. Noctis took a step back.

Xael began to murmur as she fully began to cry, “No, it can’t be.” She rubbed at her eyes with one hand and took gasps of air. “After everything we fought for, this is the end result.”

Prompto swallowed stiffly and slowly kneeled beside Xael. He quietly cleared his throat.

“Xael, did you really not know?” he cautiously asked. Xael’s emerald eyes peered through her long bangs to meet his kind eyes.

“How could I?” Xael sniffled and suddenly slammed a fist into the dirt. “King Regis ordered me to flee and find Prince Noctis,” she explained. Her stained nails clawed at the dirt as she curled her hands into tight fists. She managed between clenched teeth, “Though sworn to his side, I ran. I ran when I was needed the most.”

Noctis pursed his lips at the sight before him. He was speechless, not knowing whether to comfort or further berate her. Ignis took the lead and gently pulled at Xael's uninjured arm. Reluctantly, Xael allowed for the man to pull up into a standing position.

"Come now, Miss Xael. Let us tend to your wounds," he ushered her towards the car with Prompto in tow while Gladiolus stayed with Noctis.

As the prince watched the three make their way to the car, Noctis glanced at Gladiolus and asked under her breath, "What do you think, Gladio?” The towering male sighed and shook his head solemnly.

“Noct. Sometimes you have to sacrifice what’s closest to you in order to fulfill your duty,” he stated. Gladiolus moved to join the others mending to Xael while Noctis stood alone, further contemplating his friend’s words.

“Sacrifice, huh?”

Noctis took his time meeting his three friends and their newest addition by the Regalia.

“Ignis, you’re all supposed to be in Altissa. What on earth are you four doing this close to Insomnia?” Xael asked with a wince when Prompto pulled the bandages around her arm too tight.

The advisor sighed as he handed the female a Potion. “We were in Galdin Quay when we heard the news.” Xael nodded solemnly and quietly thanked the two blondes.

“So you understand how dangerous it is for you to be here,” she retorted as she flexed her arm after consuming the Potion.

Prompto bashfully noted, “We were actually about to go talk to Cor at an outpost nearby.”

“Ah, I had forgotten he was sent away for a mission at the time,” Xael commented. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she asked, “So. When do we leave?” The group of men glanced at each other.

“Uh, we?” Prompto echoed. Xael nodded wholeheartedly and looked to Noctis.

She said, “As Ignis said, it is my sole purpose to protect you. I will be by your side until my last breath. Such is my destiny”

Noctis drawled out, “Right. Okay.” He got into the back seat of the Regalia and leaned back.

“Guess you’ll be in the back with us,” Gladiolus noted as he held the door open for Xael. She politely nodded at towering giant and moved past him to join Noctis in the back seat. Prompto had to retain his laughter as he observed the way Gladiolus and Noctis pressed their bodies against the car door.

Gladiolus was the first to speak after the Regalia had taken off. “What do you think the marshal has to say?” he inquired as he stared down at the female sitting ramrod straight in the leather seat beside him.

Xael sighed and brushed her calloused fingers through the long fringe that framed her jaw. “The marshal has to know more than me at this point.”

“I thought you said Cor was out of town during the attack?” Prompto recollected. Xael nodded and fiddled with her fingers.

“Yes, but we must also factor in that I was unconscious roadside for a day at the least,” she commented. “I’m the least informed individual at the moment,” she summarized as she fiddled with the torn sleeves of her top. Prompto noticed her grimace and tilted his head to the side.

Prompto asked, “Did you want spare clothes?” The female blinked at the blonde male owlishly. Xael examined her torn clothes more closely and almost blushed at the state of disarray she was in.

“You wouldn’t happen have any in my size, would you?” Prompto cracked a grin with a short giggle.

“No, but I have an idea who might,” he replied and looked to Ignis. He pondered aloud, “I think Cindy might have something”

Ignis looked ahead and said, “It’s on the way. Let us pay Miss Cindy a visit.”

Xael smiled gratefully while Noctis shot the driver a narrowed look. Ignis suppressed his grin and set course for Hammerhead.

“Hey, Xael,” Prompto called as he turned all the way around in his seat. Xael blinked directly at him to signal that she was listening. “We haven’t met each other, like, ever. The name’s Prompto,” he introduced and held out his hand.

Offering a polite smile, Xael shook his head and responded, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Argentum.” Prompto furrowed his brows.

“Uh, how did you?”

“Your name travels through the citadel every now and then,” Xael said as her gaze trailed to the side. She ignored the way Prompto squawked indignantly and looked at the snoozing prince beside her. Xael’s brows furrowed in slight frustration.

Prince of Lucis. Xael mentally sneered with a turn of her lips. She faced straight ahead. How bothersome.

“Miss Xael, have you had any contact with the King’s inner circle since the attack?” Ignis asked with his eyes trained on the road.

Probably to avoid hitting anymore injured fighters hobbling across the pavement.

Xael could feel Gladiolus’s intense stare boring into the side of her head. The female fighter sighed wistfully and shook her head. “No, not to my memory. I’m not even sure as to how I ended up this far from Insomnia.”

“I see.” Ignis pursed his lips and shifted his grip on the steering wheel. “What do you know of the situation?” Xael’s brows furrowed as she collected her thoughts.

“Niflheim had arrived to sign the treaty. The Kingsglaive was ordered to move, so the citadel was open for Niflheim to attack,” Xael summarized as she rubbed at her eyes.

Gladiolus cut in, “What about the Crownsguard?”

Xael shook her head and answered solemnly, “Nothing could have stopped the Imperials.” She took a moment to close her eyes before she continued, “King Regis did what he could. They were slaughtering innocent people in the streets. The last thing I remember is fighting with King Regis against General Glauca before I was ordered to retreat.”

A tense silence fell over the Regalia.

Prompto licked at his chapped lips and murmured, “Wow. I can’t even imagine.”

“But why would King Regis allow for the Kingsglaive to abandon post?” Ignis inquired as he eyed Hammerhead approaching in the distance.

“I can’t remember. All I remember is that there was a request from a member of the Glaive to move out to the city outskirts.” Xael worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She stated, “King Regis permitted the idea. Looking back, Niflheim probably had it all set up from the beginning.”

Ignis hummed. “So the odds were stacked against us from the beginning.” Prompto slumped in his seat while Gladiolus’s jaw visibly clenched.

Xael huffed and said, “Even with such odds, King Regis did not give up. Neither shall we.” Then men around Xael took a moment to fully consider her words before silently agreeing with her.

“We’re here!” Prompto cheered as he pointed to garage they had parked in front of. As soon as they came to a stop, Prompto hopped out of the car to bound up to a busty blonde standing out front. “Hey, Cindy!”

Xael eyed the female mechanic and stayed seated in the leather seats of the Regalia while the others, including an awake Noctis, exited the vehicle. She couldn’t help but raise a brow at the lack of clothing the female wore.

I’m supposed to get clothes from this woman? Xael couldn’t exactly see that exchange. She watched as Cindy greeted the four men before they began vaguely discussing Xael’s situation. Maybe there’s a shop I can walk to.

“Xael, come on over!” Prompto invited, causing everyone to turn their attention towards her figure in the car.

Curses. Xael reluctantly slid out of the car to meet the group waiting for her. She met Cindy’s confident gaze and waved meekly.

Cindy started, “Well! This is the lucky lady y’all have been talkin’ about?” Xael managed a polite smile and nodded. Cindy offered her hand and greeted, “Nice to meet you miss! Name’s Cindy.”

“Hello, Cindy. I’m Xael Annesty,” Xael introduced and shook the mechanic’s gloved hand.

“Well, Cindy? Do you think you can help her out?” Gladiolus asked. Cindy pouted as she observed Xael’s figure. Xael shifted uncomfortably under the other female’s gaze and eyed the cleavage peeking from her unzipped jacket and bikini top.

Cindy tilted her head to the side and replied, “I don’t got anything in your size, but Paw-Paw might have some of my mama’s old clothes lyin’ around .” Having made up her mind, she nodded with a grin. “I’ll go diggin’ around the shop. Gimme a minute!” she hollered as she rushed into the depths of the garage.

“I’m gonna go find Cid. You coming, Gladio?” Noctis invited as he already began making his way towards the garage. The towering male gave Xael a sympathetic glance and nod before following the prince.

“We’ll catch up to you in a sec!” Prompto called.

Once the two men had disappeared into the main garage, Xael sighed wistfully and said, “I apologize for my sudden intrusion on your journey.” Prompto jumped a little bit, but Ignis only shook his head.

“No need for that, Miss Xael. Your presence is a bit of an assurance in my mind,” Ignis insisted as he adjusted his glasses. “Though Price Noctis may not show it, the royal family greatly thanks the Annesty’s for their devout service.”

Xael held a hand up to stop the royal adviser. “It is our duty and pleasure to serve the line of Lucis,” she interrupted.

“A conversation for another time,” he dismissed as he noticed a figure approaching them with a small cardboard box from the corner of his eye. “Ah, Miss Cindy has returned.” At that, Prompto once again turned his attention to the young, female mechanic.

“Hey, Cindy! Have any luck?” Prompto inquired. Cindy nodded with a wide grin and nodded towards the box in her hands.

Cindy replied, “Mama had a few fancy clothes layin’ around to match all y’all’s city clothes.” She handed over the box to Xael. “You can head inside to change. There’s a back rook right around the corner.”

“Thanks,” Xael said and shuffled past the other blondes to go and change. The two men glanced at each other, shrugged, and went to join Noctis and Gladiolus speaking to Cid.

Once she was out of sight, she shifted the box in her arms and glanced at the dark clothing inside. She closed the door to the back room with her hip and placed the box on a nearby work table.

Xael nearly collapsed out of pure relief when she pulled out a modest, sleeveless top that was grey and black with raised, silver accents framing the bust area. She shed her tattered clothing and slipped on a pair of black, translucent tights before pulling over the top and a pair of black high-waisted shorts.

Deciding against the pairs of heels provided, she kept the boots she was issued for her uniform back in Insomnia.

With her new outfit fully assembled, Xael adjusted the black bangles and beaded bracelets around her wrists before undoing her tangled hair from its braid to tidy it up into a neater braid that fell to her knees.

Xael collected her old clothes from the floor and looked at the tattered remains fondly. She walked over to a nearby trash can before dumping what little she had left after the attack.

Outside, Noctic and Gladiolus had rejoined the other two waiting for Xael. They had also picked up a hunt for jumbo slimes from Takka and began planning for when they would head out to the northern part of Leide.

“We should probably start heading out there now so we make it by nightfall,” Gladiolus recommended.

Noctis shook his head. “We need to see Cor as soon as possible,” the prince insisted.

Prompto offered, “So we can just hunt them tomorrow, then. Right, Iggy?” Ignis nodded and made a mental note. Prompto cheered, “Cool! We need the extra gil for a motel room!”

“Got a problem with camping?” Gladiolus teased. Noctis rolled his eyes.

“More like a problem with no showers.” Prompto could barely mask his giggling with his hand while Gladiolus narrowed his eyes at the black-haired, who returned the halfhearted glare.

At that moment, Xael walked out of the back room and up to the four males. She had originally been looking for Cindy so she could thank her, but couldn’t find the female mechanic. Instead, she decided to join her party standing by the Regalia

“Have any of you seen Miss Cindy around?” she asked as she fidgeted with her bracelets.

“Uh, she uh, she had to go tow someone outside of town,” Prompto stuttered. Xael nodded and opened the car door.

Xael hummed, “I see. Well, I suppose I shall pay my thanks next time.” She shuffled into the middle seat and looked at the men, seemingly gaping at her. “Shall we get going? I recall you boys being in a hurry to meet with Cor.”

Ingis, being the first to recover, nodded in agreement and got into the driver’s seat. Prompto scurried into the front seat while Gladiolus and Noctis slowly joined Xael in the back of he car.

“How much longer, Iggy?” Noctis moaned a while after Ignis had begun driving. The advisor huffed and narrowed his eyes at the prince through the rear view mirror.

“We’re nearly there. Approximately five minutes.” Noctis slumped in his seat.

Prompto commented, “I can’t believe we’re going to meet Cor the Immortal!” Gladiolus chuckled.

“I think you’re the only one who hasn’t met the marshal,” Gladiolus noted teasingly. Prompto cried out in retaliation and reached around the passenger seat to swat at the taller male. Xael moved away from the petty spat and had to lean against Noctis. In response, the prince shuffled nervously and looked away.

“That’s enough out of you two. We’re here,” Ignis said as he parked the car alongside the dusty road. Everyone exited the car and looked upon the scarce outpost. “Let’s look around.”

Xael hung back as the four men set out to find out more on the Royal Tomb they were supposed to meet Cor at. She had meant to follow them inside one of the tents set up, but found herself looking out into the distance.

Looking out past the desert and beyond the treeline, Xael wasn’t sure what she was looking for. She gazed at the world through heartbroken eyes and couldn’t help but look in the direction of the smoke rising from the ruins of Insomnia.

“Xael,” Noctis called suddenly as he walked up to Xael. “We’re leaving for the Royal Tomb.”

Xael took a deep breath and wiped away the single tear she had shed as she spun to face Noctis. The prince was dumbfounded when he caught her watery gaze before she quickly walked past.

Swallowing stiffly, Noctis joined the others and began to head towards the path one of the Crownsguard had directed them to.

“Are you feeling alright, Miss Xael? It will be quite a trip on foot,” Ignis said as the group reached the narrow dirt path.

Xael nodded and replied, “Don’t worry, Ignis. It’ll take more that a quick stroll to tire me.”

“Then let’s get going,” Noctis announced and broke into a light jog. Xael huffed and followed suit.

The group had passed a couple of signs before reached a turn that lead into a valley-like section. As soon as they entered the pass, a bird’s cry alerted them. A daggerquil dove towards Xael, and she rolled out of the way.

Prompto yelped in alarm as he, too, managed to duck right as a daggerquil went for him. He summoned his gun and fired some warning shots before ducking behind Gladiolus and his great sword.

Noctis warped and struck one of the monsters but quickly fell to the hard ground. Ignis pulled him up and slashed at a daggerquill that flew a little too close for comfort.

Xael summoned her broad sword and shield and surveyed the situation. She focused on a daggerquil speeding towards Prompto and dashed towards where he took cover behind Gladiolus.

Prompto noticed the bird too late to retaliate and shielded his head with his arms. He heard the monster screech in pain after a loud thunk. Prompto cracked his eyes open and gaped at Xael slashing one of the daggerquils across the chest after she had blocked its talons with her shield.

“Careful,” Xael muttered as the daggerquil burst into a cloud of dark energy.

Prompto licked at his lips and nodded. “Yeah.” By the time their exchange had finished, Noctis, Ignis, and Gladiolus had defeated the other daggerquils.

“Let’s keep moving. We’re almost there,” Gladiolus announced, and they continued down the path.

Eventually, the group reached an open area with a deteriorating archway as an entrance. Three more daggerquils nested on top of the archway and swooped down to attack. Just like the first flock, these enemies quickly fell at the group’s hands.

“I’ve never seen so many monsters in such close proximity to one another,” Xael quietly observed. “It would appear that the situation is worse than the council originally presumed.”

Prompto tilted his head to the side. “Huh? What was that?”

Xael shook her head and replied, “Nothing. Let us continue.” The group agreed to move on and entered the Royal Tomb’s staircase. At the bottom, they found Cor waiting beside the tomb where one of the Royal Arms rest.

“Marshal,” Ignis greeted.

Cor slowly turned to the group entering and spoke, “At last, Your Highness.”

Noctis didn’t meet the older male’s eyes, and he murmured, “Yeah. Wanna tell me what I’m here for?” Ignoring the prince’s obvious reluctance, Cor continued on.

“The power of kings, passed from the old to the new through the bonding of souls. One such soul lies before you,” he announced with his arms spread. “To claim your fore bearers’ power is your birthright and duty as king.”

Noctis sneered. “My duty as king of what?” The others beside him reeled back in shock and insult.

“Now is not the time to question your calling,” Cor dismissed. A scoff resonated throughout the room. The marshal said, “A king is sworn to protect his people.”

“And yet he chose to protect only one prince,” Noctis retorted. Xael’s brows furrowed further as memories of the council dying flashed through her mind. Noctis ranted, “Was that his calling? Forsake the masses to spare his own son?”

“You’re wrong,” Xael whispered, though only Ingis and Gladiolus seemed to hear her.

Cor stepped towards Noctis. “How long will you remain the protected? The king entrusted the role of protector to you.”

A scowl slipped onto Noctis’s pale features. “Entrusted it to me? Then why didn’t he tell me that? Why did he stand there smiling as we left?” Noctis slammed a hand on the edge of his ancestor’s tomb. “Why?!” He faltered and weakly his the stone again. “Why did he lie to me?” he whispered in defeat.

“That day, he didn’t want you to remember him as the king,” Cor interrupted the solemn silence. “In what time you had left, he wanted to be your father.” Cor’s firm gaze softened at the sound of the choked sobs that escaped Noctis. “He always had faith in you, that when the time came, you would ascend for the sake of your people.”

Noctis took a moment to gather himself and straightened. “Guess he left me no choice.”

At that moment, Noctis took a deep breath before reaching out to the weapon that laid on top of the grave. In a burst of crystals, the sword rose from its resting place and floated in the air above the group before piercing Noctis’s chest. The phantom-like blade danced around the prince’s startled form with a faint yet crisp ring.

“The power of kings goes with you, your majesty.” Noctis looked up to Cor with a newfound steadiness.

“Marhsal, if I may,” Xael suddenly spoke. Cor glanced at Xael and showed mild surprise. “We have much to speak about.” The man nodded and quickly briefed the other men about the royal tombs throughout the land before ushering them outside with the promise to meet with them shortly.

Once the four were outside, Cor looked to Xael with somber, tired eyes. Xael returned a miserable gaze with her head hung.

“What’s happened since the attack, Cor?” Xael inquired as she ran a hand through her long fringe. Cor huffed and crossed his arms.

“Niflheim set up shop in the capital, and there are Imperial blockades popping up all over Lucis,” Cor answered with a shake of his head.

Xael paused to take in this information before further asking, “Is it true? Did King Regis truly?” She trailed off, her mouth suddenly becoming dry. Cor’s hard stare softened, and the marshal nodded minutely.

“It’s true. The king is no longer with us.” Xael’s hands clenched into fists, and she tried her hardest no to draw blood when she bit down on her bottom lip.

Shame washed over her and drowned out her overwhelming sadness.

“Worry not about the past, Xael,” Cor said and gently placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “Your place is beside King Noctis, now. You must stand beside him and protect him from whatever the empire has planned,” he stated.

Xael was silent for a while before whispering, “I understand.” Cor pursed his lips in thought before dismissing the idea of saying anything else.

“Let’s head out,” Cor said as he walked past Xael to exit the tomb and left the female fighter to get lost in her thoughts. The blonde clasped her hands together in a praying gesture and closed her eyes tightly.

King Regis. I know this is what you asked of me. An image of Noctis asleep in the Regalia drifted through her mind. I know that this is my destiny. She looked to the skies as if the Astrals would answer her. But am I truly fit for the role of the Chosen King’s Valkyrie?

#final fantasy #final fantasy fanfiction #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv fanfiction #noctis #noctis lucis caelum #prince noctis #ffxv noctis #ffxv #ignis #ignis scientia #ffxv ignis #prompto #prompto argentum #ffxv prompto #gladiolus #gladiolus amicitia #ffxv gladiolus

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the-everlasting-dream · 6 years ago

Text

Xin Teng - Liam x MC [x Drake], TRR AU

Part 2 of Unfathomable

Summary: The day they were supposed to have the funeral

A/N: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HEED THE TRIGGER WARNINGS!! We will be going into explicit confronting material about sensitive topics that can be triggering.

Word Count: 4426

Warnings: Blood, mentions of death, miscarriage, description of injury, angst, grief.

Permanent tags: @choicessa, @meeraaverywalker , @drakewalkerwhipped , @thewolvesss , @mfackenthal , @srawesleyghuewrites , @topsyturvy-dream , @enmchoices , @gardeningourmet @debramcg1106 , @alesana45 , @meladoridarcy, @blackcatkita , @tmarie82 , @annekebbphotography , @lizk77 , @jayjay879 , @tornbetween2loves , @akrenich , @theroyalweisme , @likethetailofacomet , @sleepwalkingelite , @littleblossom-18 , @ooo-barff-ooo TRR only: @speedyoperarascalparty , @carabeth ,

Unfathomable AU tags: @akrenich , @hopefulmoonobject , @wannabemc2 , @romanticheart-posts , @bobasheebaby , @sstee1 , @mrsdrakewalkerblog @furiousherringoperatortoad , @indicater , @h3llostrang3r , @innerpostmentality , @queencatherynerhys , @innerpostmentality , @drakewalkerisreal ,

Xinteng

noun 心疼 Chinese

The Literal translation of heartache. The particular kind of sadness and pain that comes from witnessing and sharing the pain of people you love.

Liam stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his collar. Today wasn’t going to be easy.

Today he had to farewell his best friend of more years than he could count. There was nothing that could have prepared him for it. In his mind, Drake would have always been a part of his future, his best friend, trusted advisor and maybe even a member of the royal council, if he managed to talk him into it. Drake had been such a permanent fixture in his life, it was a core fact that he just knew. They would have been brothers for life, supporting each other until well after they were old and grey, there was no question about it and he had no reason to think otherwise until… now..

The reality of it finally seemed to hit him hard as he donned his outfit for the funeral — a suit, all black — doing up each button seemed to take a colossal effort. His own blue eyes, hollow and stared back at him as he relived the thoughts and feelings of the last few days. The day they switched off the life support would haunt him forever, he knew that. It had been almost a week and he still felt everything so viscerally, almost like he was living it all again. Everything… Holding Elizabeth’s sobbing body as she tried to claw at the doctors... feeling frustration so intense he wanted to scream and never stop... begging and pleading with Drake to come back... feeling his pulse ebb away when he didn’t….

The emptiness was the worst… emptiness that ate at him, slowly crawling its way under his skin to hollow out everything that could make him feel okay again… He marvelled at the immense impact that one person had, it was almost like Drake’s presence had left a huge hole in his soul that he had no idea how to begin to fill. Sadness, pain and anger reared their ugly heads again inside him, tussling for which one would gain control over what was left of him.

God Drake why did you have to-

The door opened abruptly and Liam brushed at the hot tears that has escaped him as his father's reflection appeared in the mirror. He clenched his jaw, willing himself to regain his composure, taking a deep breath before turning to face the other man.

‘Father.’ His tone was cool.

‘Son,’ Constantine replied in kind, eyes travelling over Liam’s figure ‘I see you’re ready for today… I can only imagine how tough this must be for you.'

He was dancing around the subject — a subtle shift in his figure was enough to betray his ruse. Liam had to bite his cheek to prevent his face from morphing into disgust at his father’s gall to hide his ulterior motive for their conversation under the false pretence of affection.

‘You’ve obviously come here to say something, Father,’ he replied, his tone measured as the tension between them thickened. ‘Just when I thought you’d come to comfort me on the day of my best friend’s funeral… I suppose I shouldn’t have been so generous with my assumptions.’

‘I suppose there’s not point beating around the bush..’ the old man replied, easing himself into the armchair. ‘Have you spoken to Duchess Elizabeth?’

Liam scoffed, adjusting his cufflinks. ‘What do you think?'

‘Don’t take that smart tone with me, boy,’ Constantine replied, voice restrained with fury. ‘The future of our country is at stake. We do not have the luxury of time. And I will not stand to see it be ruined by your indecision.'

A deep rage flared up in Liam. 'For Pete’s sake, he was my best friend!’ He roared, not caring if he was heard throughout the palace. 'She’s his lover and today is his funeral. How can you possibly want me to bring up the subject of marriage?'

'Liam I know its not ideal but we have to think of the future of our country,’ Constantine told him firmly, unperturbed by the outburst. 'Waiting is not a luxury one has as a monarch. The people look to the crown for stability. Duchess Elizabeth is the best insurance of that.’

He shut his eyes, swallowing hard, trying to keep his conflicting emotions at bay, like he’d done for all his life. ‘Why does it have to be her Father? Why are you so adamant that I marry her? Olivia, Madeleine, Hana Lee, hell even Kiara Castelsareillan or Penelope Portavira would be perfectly suitable for the role. Why do you insist on Elizabeth?’

His father was already shaking his head. ‘You really want me to list it out for you? Fine. I’m sure I don’t need to reiterate how brash Olivia Nevrakis is, the people will never accept a Nevrakis on the throne, particularly after her parents’ betrayal. As for Lady Hana, there’s no denying she’s talented but the poor girl has no control over her feelings, anyone with eyes could see that she’s incapable of being with a man.’

Liam noted the bitterness on his father’s face after voicing that as Constantine continued. ‘If you hadn't made such a public spectacle of ending your engagement with Madeleine, perhaps we could have salvaged something of this mess, but nooo you had to announce it publicly.. Let's face it the other two are addled idiots anyway. Do I need to go on?’

He ignored the withering look his father gave him, turning away stubbornly. ‘Why can’t we just call for another season? Surely I-‘

‘Think Liam,’ his father hissed venomously. ‘Our royal court was just attacked in the palace, supposedly the most secure place in the country. The people are shaken, its only a matter of time before they come stampeding to the gates with torches and pitchforks, calling for our heads. We need a solution to this and now. Cordonia needs stability not the king spending their precious funds to pander to his indecision when the perfect candidate seems to exist already. As much as I hate to admit it, your precious duchess holds the people's favour something we desperately need right now after her performance during the social season. To them she represents stability and hope, two things even you have to recognise we are running short on.'

Though he could understand his underlying reasoning, Liam couldn’t believe the words coming from the man he called his father. Did he seriously expect him to ask the love of his life to marry him on today of all days? How was he to even think of proposing to Elizabeth when Drake was barely in his coffin?

'Am I not allowed one day to grieve? To cry? To be a man first then a king?'

‘Liam, like it or not you are the crown now. Everything you do is reflection of the crown’s intentions.’ Constantine was on his feet now, glaring back at him. 'You took a vow to protect this country and I will not stand by and watch you run it to ruin. If I have to take it into my own hands, so be it.’

Liam narrowed his eyes. ‘Is that a threat?'

‘I am not afraid to defend my country. By any means necessary.'

Tension crackled in the air around them. Both men stood toe to toe, locked in a standoff pulled to full height, Liam over his father by a few inches who glared back defiantly. His mouth was already opening to reprimand him when —

‘Your Majest-'

‘What?!’ He bellowed at the young footman that opened the door, not taking his eyes off Constantine. ‘Can’t you see I’m occupied!?’

‘A-a-apologised Y-your M-majesty, it-its-its-,' The poor boy sputtered in terror unable to speak clearly.

‘Well?’ Liam demanded impatiently, turning his head to zero in on him.

‘I-Its the Duchess!’ The boy finally burst out. ‘She’s locked herself in her room and she won’t come out!’

‘This is preposterous! The stupid girl is having a temper tantrum,’ Constantine scoffed Liam spun on his heel, grabbing his father by the collar, rage in every word. ‘Speak one more word about Elizabeth and I’ll have you hanged for treason.’

Ignoring his father’s protest, Liam ran.

His feet traced the steps to Elizabeth’s room of their own accord, shoving past staff members, barely acknowledging their grunts of annoyance and cries of surprise at their king dashing through the hallways like the devil himself was on his heels. No, he only had one objective in mind.

Elizabeth. Elizabeth. Why the hell was her room so far away?

Rounding the corner, he found himself standing at the locked door to her suite, Mara and the other servants pounding on the barrier. ‘Your Majesty we tried everything. We sent for a lock smith but she’s got something over the door on the inside,’ Mara reported, her hands red raw. ‘We’ve got security ready to scale the outside of the building, to come through the window.’

’Tell them to stand down,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll handle this.’

The bodyguard did not look pleased but nodded once, raising a hand to her earpiece.

‘Elizabeth?’ Liam called out, placing a hand on the door. ‘Its me… Its.. Liam. Are you okay?’

There was no response. Liam frowned in confusion. This was highly uncharacteristic of the Elizabeth Richmond he knew. Or maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought...

‘Elizabeth, open up,’ his voice was more urgent now, unable to keep his mind from conjuring up the worst images.

He raked over memories of the past days, trying to find something, anything that would clue him into why she was acting like this. He immediately cursed himself. How could she not be herself given all that had happened? But still he needed to know, he needed to see her with his own two eyes to make sure she was okay. And with every second that ticked by, the conclusions he was jumping to seemed to be worse and worse.

‘Please. Elizabeth. Its Liam.’ Still nothing.

‘Leave me alone with her,’ Liam ordered before turning back to the door. 'Liz… please… Open up. I just… need to know that you’re okay…’

He rested his head against the door and a faint sob could be heard through the wood. Alarm came flooding back into his face, galvanising him.

‘Elizabeth open up or I’ll break the door down if I have to.’

Liam’s senses tingled, strained to detect some sign, any thing to dissuade him. Receiving none, he sighed in resignation, before aimed a powerful kick at the door to the suite. His blow held so much force it struck the the offending — a chair — that had been holding the door shut and stepping over it, his eyes moved frantically over the unmade bed and seemly empty room.

The sound of another sob turned his head towards the closed door of the bathroom and springing it open, found Elizabeth lying in foetal position on the bathroom floor. He immediately moved to drop to his knees beside her before he slipped suddenly. He reflexively flung a hand out to support himself against the toilet bowl. After sufficiently steadying himself, he drew his hand back only to find it covered in… crimson.

The dart of relief that was forming in his chest immediately vanished as Liam’s blue eyes took in the entire scene where the floor was covered in blood all originating from… Elizabeth's voice was softer than a whisper and coarse than sandpaper as she turned her fractured gaze to his, tears welling in her eyes.

‘I… I-I… He.. Drake...’ She choked on his name, fresh sobs erupting from her body. Her hand clutched the toilet, leaving a smear of blood in its place before her arm gave out and she collapsed onto the floor, lacking the strength to even hold herself upright. ‘There’s so much blood…’ She croaked brokenly, eyes unfocused as she scanned the scene around her. 'W-why is there so much blood?'

Her words broke Liam out of his frozen stupor. ‘Elizabeth,’ His voice was hoarse as his mind slowly pieced together what had happened. Unable to tears his eyes away from the pool of red seeping out from under her legs, he swallowed hard, staring at his bloodstained hand. ‘You… you were…’

Pregnant...

She shut her eyes, hissing slightly as the word hung in their air between them. ‘He didn’t know Liam. He… I-He died without knowing I…’ She wouldn’t finish without breaking into tears again and lost for words, Liam gathered her up into his arms as she wept, unable to stop big tears rolling down his face, knowing he only knew a sliver of what she was going through right now.

On the day of the funeral too…

His heart went out to her and the unfathomable suffering she was experiencing. He felt so infinitely useless, unable to provide any other comfort so he clutched her closer, as if the tighter he held on the more likely her pain would go away. He was painfully aware that there was nothing he could say or do that would ever be able to rectify what had just happened. So he held her on that bathroom, he held her close as she cried into his new black suit, blood staining both their outfits. Liam’s own emotions had worked up a storm inside him but he pushed them down for her sake. He couldn’t lose it too. Suddenly Elizabeth cried out as if in pain as more fluid began to leak onto the floor and when her skin touched his, the contact burned his skin. She felt scorching hot to the touch despite the shivers that wracked her body.

Liam cursed himself for not realising this sooner and shouted for a maid.

‘Prepare the motorcade and have them ready to transport the duchess and I to the hospital. And bring Lady Hana here immediately,’ he commanded the girl who’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates at the sight. ‘Breathe a word of this to anyone and I will personally ensure that you live to regret it.’

She bobbed once in compliance and rushed off.

‘C’mon Elizabeth,’ he encouraged softly after god knows how much time had passed. ‘It’s going to be okay.. Its going to be okay.’

He had no way of knowing if it was going to be okay, he had no idea what would happen next but he couldn’t let her know the panic he was feeling. He shifted her hot body in his arms, worry seeping deeper into him. How long had she been like this? Surely it couldn’t have been good to lie on the bathroom floor - as clean as it may be - in this state. Liam had little medical knowledge but what if she’d caught some bacterial infection or something? She could be at risk for something serious and he had no idea.

‘Someone get the doctor immediately,’ he bellowed, shifting Elizabeth again, her temperature soaring as she attempted to curl closer into herself.

Through the panic he was feeling, Liam remembered vaguely that his mother had put him under a cold shower when he’d had a fever as a child to lower his temperature. He had no way of knowing if that was medically but he had to try.

‘C’mon Elizabeth,’ he repeated. ‘I’m going to put you into the shower. We- we… I don’t know what I’m doing..’ Liam ran a bloodstained hand through his hair, not caring for his personal wellbeing, attention solely focused on getting her up and into the shower. 'Let’s get you cleaned up.’

Elizabeth made a noise of reluctance but eventually allowed him to lift her to her feet. He had just managed to coax her into the shower when Hana’s voice called out for him.

‘In here,’ he yelled back from under the cold shower where he was holding Elizabeth, still fully clothed as he tried to keep his eyes off the blood that was draining off both of them. Hana appeared in the doorway instantaneously, a gasp escaping her at the sight before her eyes, scanning the mess in the bathroom. For a moment her lower lip wavered and Liam was doubting his decision to have her here before she straightened her posture and stepped into the bathroom, avoiding the puddles of blood and fluid on the ground.

‘Here let me,’ she reached for Elizabeth and Liam was only too glad to ease her into her arms. ‘The doctor is on the way.'

As Liam was exiting the bathroom to let Hana rinse her, his eyes caught sight of the toilet, where something bobbed in the bloodstained water..

This time Liam was unable to control his initial reaction, his stomach turning itself inside out, heaving its contents into the nearest rubbish bin. Swiping the back of his hand over his mouth, he stumbled out of the bathroom, surely leaving red footprints in his wake but in his stupor, he was barely able to think straight.

‘Your Majesty-‘ Bastein and Mara were at the suite door, wide eyed at the blood on his clothes but he waved them off. ‘Where’s that fucking doctor?’

‘Right here Your Majesty, apologies for the delay,’ a woman stepped up and Liam couldn’t speak, merely pointing to Elizabeth's room.

‘Your Majesty you don’t look-'

‘Madeleine!’ Liam bellowed, ignoring all attempts at his own wellbeing.

The blonde woman materialised at the threshold with her ever enigmatic expression. ‘You called Your Majesty?’

‘Postpone the funeral. And clear my schedule for today and tomorrow.’

‘What am I your personal assistant?’ She scoffed, clearly unified by his stormy expression.

‘I am your king,’ Liam growled, authority clear in his tone. ‘You will do as I say.’ The blonde woman nodded once and disappeared and he glanced at the crowd of servants gathered there watching the scene.

'Breathe a word of this to anyone and I’ll make sure you all pay for it,’ he snarled, registering the fear in their eyes before they scattered.

He sank down into a nearby chaise, his head dropping into his hands and Liam wept...

He cried for Elizabeth, for the inexplicable pain she was feeling at losing not one but two people in such a short space of time. He wept for the child who would have been, who would have grown up to be a tiny copy of their father, a strength to their mother and comfort that the man she loved was still with her in some way. He wept for Drake who would never get to have the family he wanted and surely deserved, a life cut short by the sharp and unforgiving knife of fate. Feeling a synonymous sense of shame, Liam wept for himself too, for what he was expected to do for his country at the price of one woman’s happiness and stability.

He did not know how long he sat there, eyes staring blankly at the tiles, brushing off any and all attempt to comfort him until the servants bustled by barely taking notice of their king sitting so still he could have been a statue. His father’s word echoed back to him, about the need for stability and harmony through his marriage to Elizabeth but Liam knew now that he would never be able to ask that of her. The opinions of the people be damned, he thought angrily. They could change and they would. He’d marry someone else Olivia or even Kiara maybe, both who would be fine queens and —

The door creaked open to reveal the doctor stepping out and Liam immediately stood up, giving her an expectant look. Her expression turned apologetic.

‘As you are aware, Your Majesty Duchess Elizabeth has had a miscarriage. It is difficult to say how far along she was but my best guess would be less than three months.’

The words shook him to his core.. Three months ago would have been around the time of the homecoming ball, after he had broken off his engagement to Madeleine, he reasoned. Liam felt his stomach drop, he had no idea Elizabeth and Drake were so involved together at that point, in fact he had no idea of it until he’d seen her at his bedside before what he had suspected finally clicked into place. His stomach twisted into a tighter knot at the next words.

‘You found her when she was mid way through passing the pregnancy tissue. Fever, chills, severe abdominal and uterine pain are common with a miscarriage like this one. It is hard to say whether she has contracted some kind of infection from sitting unprotected on the floor but I have briefed Lady Hana on the symptoms and she knows to contact a doctor should Her Grace be experiencing this.’

‘How is she now?’ Liam’s tongue felt thick in his mouth as he fought to swallow the doctor’s words.

‘The rest of the pregnancy tissue should pass out in the next few days and there’s nothing I can do to make that process any faster. It is a matter of time. But for now she needs to rest Your Majesty. I would recommend bedrest for the next day or two and no strenuous activity while her body recovers. I have given her painkillers to help with the pain. She will require an ultrasound to ensure all the pregnancy tissue has been expelled and another checkup in about 4-6 weeks time.'

He hadn’t realised how tense he was until the doctor placed a hand on his arm in comfort.

‘It’s a tough thing to recover from but Her Grace has a good support system. She just needs people to be with her to remind her that she doesn’t have to do this alone. None of you do.’

Liam nodded, hearing the doctor’s message. ‘I understand. Can I-can I see her?’ ‘Her Grace is resting but a few minutes wouldn’t hurt,’ the doctor — Dr Jaya Da Silva as her name badge read — smiled sadly, pausing for a moment before speaking again. ‘Go be with her. In times like these, you need hope. You need to give her that hope Your Majesty because in the end that’s all we have. Everyone knows Duchess Elizabeth has a way of pulling through in the end, you just need to remind her of it.’

He nodded once and turned to the room door where two maids with cleaning supplies were exiting. Unbidden his eyes flew to a small black plastic bag one of them was holding and his stomach turned violently, threatening to hurl at the sight of it.

That was…

Liam squeezed his eyes shut, wiping his sweaty palms on the front of his blazer — a gesture his stepmother would have surely chastised him for — and took a deep breath, willing the calmness people associated his kingly persona to return. Elizabeth lay on the bed, curled into ball, dark hair tangled across the pillows as Hana tucked her in. She barely acknowledged his presence, her eyes glassy and vacant, fixated loosely on the wall. He winced at the sight, taking in her bloodshot gaze and how her hands hadn’t quite stopped shaking.

‘Elizabeth…’ Her name slipped from his lips, as if it was never really meant for him. His mouth opened and shut a few times, at a loss for words. "How are you feeling?” wouldn’t really cut it in this situation; he could not even begin to understand the pain she must be in.

‘You postponed the funeral,’ she said finally, almost in an accusatory tone. ‘Why?’

Liam sighed, running a hand through his hair. ‘Elizabeth... you can’t. You’re in no condition to..’

‘I can,’ she retorted, struggling to push herself up on one hand. ‘I can and I will.’

‘The doctor ordered bedrest, she said it would take a while for-‘

‘I don’t care! Stop. Stop it okay!’ She was in a sitting position now, glaring at him with a venom that he’d never seen before. ‘It needs to go on, I have to… I have to… I want to see him laid to rest.. I wanna see him one more time before-‘ Her voice gave way to sobs.

‘Elizabeth…You’ve already gone through so much today. You need to rest.’

‘I need to see him Liam,’ she was crying again, loud, messy sobs as huge globs of snot flowed out of her nose but she swiped it away with her hand before holding up a menacing finger towards him. ‘Fuck you and your entitled ass for not letting me.’

He opened his mouth to reply but she cut him off. ‘Tell them the funeral is back on Liam. Tell them or I’ll never speak to you again.’

'If it comes to that, so be it.’

She yelled at him, screamed, cursed him with every profanity under the sun, swearing on all she knew to be sacred that she would never forgive him but Liam stood his ground. He dragged his blue eyes to her dark ones, knowing she was in extreme pain and it was just the grief talking. She was already unstable, if he did as she said… who knew if she would ever recover.

‘Hate me all you want,’ Liam continued in a voice he did not recognise as his own. ‘I’m only doing this for you own good.’

‘You fucking bastard!’ she yelled back as she struggled to get to her feet, before giving way to a sharp cry of pain, her hand flying to her abdomen. Hana immediately rushed to her side but Elizabeth swatted her away. ‘Get off me, let me go Hana!'

The other woman turned her pleading eyes on Liam, begging him to relent so that Elizabeth would be calmed but he stood his ground.

‘So help me Elizabeth if I need to lock you in this room I will.’

What was happening to him? He sounded just like his father, placing this innocent woman in even more pain. But Liam had no choice, he had to do what he felt was right.

‘I’m doing this for your own good,’ he replied forlornly as she collapsed back on the bed in exhaustion. Shutting the door behind him, Liam leaned against the wood, closing his eyes as tears rolled down his cheeks, hating himself for what he just did. The sound of her protests filtered to him as the echo of his father’s words sprang to his mind, both battling on his conscience. Elizabeth was already in so much pain.

How could he burden her with the crown too?

37 notes · View notes

vicehectic · 5 years ago

Text

Want Emancipation Ch (2/?)

REWRITE OF “THE CURSE OF THE SKY”

In one world Tsunayoshi grows up under a neglectful family and hardships and makes relations with people associated with death by force.

In another, Tsunayoshi grows up under a loving and caring father and uncle and welcomes those touched by death with open arms.

Or; Byakuran Gesso adopts Tsunayoshi at a young age and that changes everything.

Parts 1 / 2 / ?

Also on AO3 and Fanfic

-------------------------------

He’s been in a world without Tsunayoshi’s influence. It feels empty.

-------------------------------

Okay, maybe he wasn’t telling himself the exact truth. And that was a hard pill to swallow in it of itself. He hates to lose to anyone – even if it is himself.

Tsunayoshi is the name people whisper across most worlds.

(Sometimes it’s Ieyoshi, others it’s Tsunahime but it’s still Tsunayoshi – after all what’s in a name? Sometimes it’s not Tsunayoshi at all; whether it’s someone under the guise of Tsunayoshi or it’s someone completely different. Those worlds don’t last long. If they do there’s chaos rampart and no peace in sight.)

To the people that know about the worlds, Tsunayoshi is praised like a god. In some worlds he’s the end, the beginning, or a stepping stone in-between. Tsunayoshi is never all those things. Sometimes he’s two of those things and in the worlds that he’s both the beginning and the end; nothing really makes sense.

Tsunayoshi is the catalyst. Tsunayoshi is the tool. Tsunayoshi is the sacrifice.

In those worlds Tsunayoshi never truly feels happy.

In those worlds his significant other dies. Kyoko, Haru, Hayato, Takeshi, Dino, Kyoya, Bianchi, Ryohei, Hana, Renato, Fon, Cherep, Colonello, Nagi, Mukuro, Spanner, Shoichi, Azucar, Belphegor- The world burns because of it.

In those worlds his mother is dead. Nana targeted because of her connections to the mafia – it doesn’t matter if it’s before everything happens or after.

In those worlds, sometimes, it’s good his mother is dead, but his father dies along with her. Iemitsu’s heart is big like that in those worlds and the world burns because of it.

In those worlds his guardians die. In those worlds his guardians crack. The world burns because of it.

In those worlds Tsunayoshi doesn’t get a chance to get involved. Tsunayoshi either lives a short life or a long life of misery. The world burns because of it.

He’s seen all those worlds and maybe there’s something wrong with him, dare he say one of the defective ones, but he wants Tsunayoshi to get a break among all the worlds he’s in. He wants Tsunayoshi to feel satisfied. And that’s a goal that he will have to fight tooth and nail for.

There’s a reason why he let everything in this world work out the way it did. Other versions of himself will mock him for his laziness but they don’t see what he sees. Tsunayoshi is not a tool for them to control. Tsunayoshi is everything and it’s ridiculous how none of them have realized this before.

He’s been in a world without Tsunayoshi’s influence.

It feels empty.

-------------------------------

The blanket is slung over his lap and his hands are cradling the mug full of his uncle’s famous hot chocolate as he waits.

The soothing chatter of a mischievous voice and an exasperated voice reaches him, and it somehow makes the dozens of thoughts circling in his head come to a stop. Tsunayoshi Gesso just sits there and breathes.

It’s winter break halfway through his first year of middle school but that hasn’t changed their tradition to visit Italy every year with his uncle. Honestly, after the drama his class has been through in just the first semester, Tsuna is glad to get a break.

“How are you holding up Yoshi?” There’s a hand in his fluffy hair and he immediately leans into the touch, his eyes closing unconsciously as a smile comes to his lips. “Are you finally relaxing a little?”

Tsuna laughs, “I would, but we left dad in the kitchen alone and we both know that’s not a good idea.”

His uncle’s hand leaves his hair as he laughs with him, “Don’t worry about that, I used all the marshmallows for the hot chocolate. I’m not letting Byakuran have the chance this year.”

“Geez Sho-chan!” his dad whines as he pokes his head out into the living room, “You could have told me that! I’ve been looking for marshmallows for the past hour and a half!”

Tsuna grabs his uncle’s arm dramatically, “You don’t think he’s going to go insane because of marshmallow withdrawal, do you?”

Shoichi Irie, Tsuna’s favorite uncle, plays along, “Oh god,” he jokingly grabs his stomach, “I’m getting a stomach ache just thinking about it.”

Byakuran Gesso jumps out into the living room with a dark expression, “My best friend and my favorite son ganging up on me? I won’t accept this!”

Tsuna shrieks, but would forever deny it, when Byakuran tackles Tsuna into the couch and drags uncle Shoichi down with him, “You’re heavy dad!”

“Are you calling me fat?! What happened to my cute little son who followed me around like a little duckling calling me papa?!”

“That never happened, and you know it!”

“I can’t breathe! I can’t breathee…..”

-------------------------------

Yes. A world without Tsunayoshi is empty.

-------------------------------

In most worlds Timoteo is barely a factor.

Timoteo Vongola is at his wits end. In his seventh and eighth decade he’s lost his three eldest sons and Timoteo is only getting older. His wonderful wife passed in his sixth decade and he wasn’t exactly as capable as he used to be – nor did he want to impregnate someone in his old age. Worst come to worst, Timoteo would tell the council to shove off and make Iemitsu Vongola Decimo – no matter what tradition said.

But Timoteo still has Xanxus. His beloved youngest son that was lost on the streets after one of Tolomeo’s many nights spent with common whores in the alleys of Naples. There was a reason why their mother chose Timoteo as Vongola Nono and not Tolomeo. In many ways Tolomeo bore much resemblance to the cousin twice removed of their great grandfather, Vongola Secondo, Ricardo, and that was passed onto Xanxus. Timoteo sees it in the slightest bit of wrath that Xanxus has in his flames but like Timoteo’s said.

He’s at his wits end.

Such a shame that Iemitsu’s child had died twenty-seven weeks in and his wife could no longer bear a child.

-------------------------------

In a small fraction of worlds, he’s the catalyst of destruction.

-------------------------------

Enrico is dead by an assassin, a bullet straight through his head so they have to cover his face at the funeral. His fiancé still cries over his cold body. The day of his funeral the Vongola all stand together in the Vongola graveyard with the Varia keeping guard despite being an assassination squad. Enrico wasn’t the favored heir to take on the mantle of Vongola Decimo, but he was reliable. He always said that Massimo was the one with the charisma of a leader. Enrico always rather preferred to be Massimo’s advisor and lead from the shadows. Massimo’s back is straight like his spine is iron and his is chest open in open defiance at the funeral – he doesn’t cry but the hands holding his younger brothers’ hands tremble.

Massimo is found dead in the fountain Chiavarone Ottavo gifted to Vongola Ottava as a poorly disguised courting gift. The fountain that is the center of the Vongola Mansion’s courtyard. Massimo is found dead in his pajamas without any signs of a struggle. The autopsy later shows that Massimo had somehow been heavily drugged and if he hadn’t died from the water in his lungs – he would have died from an overdose. His youngest brother is the one to find the body; poor Xanxus is found dragging his brother’s dead body out of the fountain and begging him to wake up. The event sends all of the Vongola into a frenzy to find the culprit and rats are killed on the spot. They still hold a funeral with lilies because its well known that Massimo had a preference to them. Federico looks so small as he holds his remaining brother so close. For the one to have screamed louder than Xanxus was Federico who crumbled at the seams at the sight of his pale brother’s corpse.

Federico is found dead with holes in him. After the death of Massimo, Federico was placed on intense watch. It takes years for Federico to even resemble the person he used to be. The last person in his family to have talked to him, after his father sent him out on a peaceful assignment to celebrate his return to the field, is Xanxus. He never returns. The party that went with him yell about a raid despite being unharmed and without any missing members besides Federico. He was the only one who died. According to his party he had welcomed death with open arms – he let himself get killed. Xanxus stands next to his father with twin guns engraved with “mi dispiace fratello”. The famiglia responsible for Federico’s death never sees the light of day because of him.

In some worlds Xanxus grows up loved by his older brothers and leads the Varia with intelligence of a leader from Enrico, with charisma he’s learned from Massimo, and with compassion from Federico. He recovers from the trauma the streets give and the way his mother had just abandoned him for a large sum of money. Xanxus learns how to be happy and be content in life.

In those worlds his flames don’t burn with wrath. His elements are attracted to how warm his sky flames are.

That isn’t this world.

-------------------------------

“Xanxus.”

Xanxus doesn’t have to turn to know that it’s Superbia Squalo who’s calling out to him.

“What do you want?” he grunts as he cradles the beer Federico used to love before he lost himself in his left hand.

Squalo doesn’t move to sit by Xanxus’ side and frankly, Xanxus doesn’t expect him too. Squalo just continues to stand behind him, a half step to the right so if he were to walk forward they would knock shoulders. Xanxus expects Squalo to stand exactly where he’s always stood.

Squalo doesn’t hesitate as he speaks. “Boss.”

Xanxus whirls around and the beer bottle almost cracks in his grip. “I’m not your boss anymore!” he practically screeches, “You’re the new head of the Varia dipshit!”

Squalo doesn’t even blink, “I pledged to follow you through thick and thin, boss. You may be a piece of shit at the end of the day but you’re the man I chose to follow. This… change in plans doesn’t change anything.”

Xanxus’ blood boils, “Are you fucking blind? You know that this is exactly what that bastard wants. The second he announces that I am to be his heir I’m fucking trapped. Everything we’ve done up to this point has been fucking useless.”

“So, you’re just going to give up?” Squalo shouts back, losing his calm composure – always being quick to anger. “Like hell you are!” he yells because he knows Xanxus just as well as he knows himself, “We aren’t going to be playing into his hands.”

Xanxus quells the anger in his chest to stop and narrow his eyes at the white-haired teen, “What do you know?”

Squalo grins wickedly, “If Timoteo is going to announce you as Decimo it’s going to be when you’re at least twenty – officially at least. We have time until then to figure everything out.”

“Figure what out?”

“We’re going to find another potential heir to the Vongola.”

The beer falls out of his hand, “If I wasn’t the only illegitimate child of Tolomeo then…”

Squalo turns on his heel, “Come on, shitty boss, we’ve got work to do.”

-------------------------------

But this also isn’t the world that Xanxus goes on a revenge trip.

-------------------------------

In most worlds Iemitsu leaves his family for his famiglia. In those worlds he usually loves the child he births with his significant other with all his heart.

In most worlds Nana is Iemitsu’s wife, but she’s easily replaced in others. In those worlds she’s usually an airheaded woman not capable of being a mother.

In worst case scenarios Nana shouldn’t be let out of an insane asylum.

-------------------------------

It starts with the Byakuran in one world and even in the worlds that don’t have Byakuran as the wielder of Mare Rings, Byakuran becomes the wielder of the Mare Rings. Each Byakuran reacts differently from the onslaught of memories and insights of other worlds. In some worlds Byakuran thirsts for power and grandeur. In most worlds Byakuran simply wants to live an easy-going life.

The Byakuran of this world doesn’t turn a blind eye nor does he try to grasp everything that has potential as his. The Byakuran of this world has a bleeding heart and he sobs over the chest of his best friend and he’s inconsolable even for the practical they have the next day in their final year of University.

Byakuran Gesso scours the world looking for the one that calls himself Tsunayoshi and he never looks back.

-------------------------------

“Are you sure that you want to go back to Namimori?” Tsuna barely hears his dad’s question as he walks between several spots in the kitchen trying to get everything ready for school as the minutes tick by. “I know the faculty said they were going to have a mental health assembly, but they just seemed like they wanted to brush everything under the rug as fast as possible.”

Tsuna laughs dryly, “The perks of public school,” he replied sarcastically as he opens the fridge looking for the water bottle he swore he put in last night.

“Exactly!” Byakuran cries as he stands on the other side of the fridge door, “You could have gone to Midori Private. It’s not like it’s only for girls anymore.”

Tsuna shifts his gaze away from his dad as he closes the fridge shut, letting his eyes settle on his Uncle Shoichi who just let out a huge yawn at the kitchen table, “Jii-san you didn’t have to wake up just to see me off.”

Shoichi immediately jolts and wipes the drool that leaked from the corner of his mouth. “Of course I do! It’s not everyday you head back to school,” he finally says after gathering his composure.

“I mean, it’s not like it’s my first day, I’m just heading back after winter break.” Tsuna shoves the black bottle into the bag that’s sitting in the seat across from Shoichi, “You were up late last night, right?”

Shoichi looks sheepish as he rubs at the back of his head, “Haha, just a little later than usual.”

“Yoshi,” Byakuran calls out gently and Tsuna turns because he’s weak to moments like this. And Tsuna’s supposed to be the one with the puppy-dog eyes. “Promise me if you feel uncomfortable at school that you’ll tell me.” Warm hands rub his shoulders, “I just want what’s best for you.”

“Yeah,” Tsuna says, “No problem.” Even to him his words sound hollow.

Byakuran’s eyes bore into him but his dad doesn’t push it and just embraces Tsuna in a hug, “What am I going to do when you grow up and leave me, kiddo?”

Tsuna cracks a smile at that, “Like I’m going to disappear from your life just because I’ve grown up dad.” He breathes in the relaxing scent of marshmallows and orchids, “We’re family and family sticks together.”

His dad pulls back and kisses the top of Tsuna’s fluffy head, “Get going kiddo or you’re going to be late.”

Tsuna grabs his bag off the chair and gives a sarcastic salute, “Yessur.”

“Have a good day Yoshi!” his uncle calls after him as he steps out of the house.

Tsuna very much doubts that it’s not going to be much different from most days at Namimori Middle.

-------------------------------

Tsuna doesn’t want to tell his dad that the assembly goes just like how he expected it to. The whole thing feels bland and useless as students are invested in their own little conversations and the teachers look bored. For Christ’s sake the mental health counselor is sleeping!

For a second, he regrets not taking his father’s offer to attend Midori Private School, regardless of the low percentage of male students due to only having allowed male attendance the year before, but Tsuna knows that if he wants to live as he does at school then Namimori Middle is the perfect place for him.

Even if he knows how toxic the environment at Namimori is when he takes one cursory glance at the first years around him and doesn’t see the student that had tried to commit suicide at the end of last semester.

-------------------------------

NOTE: I'm so sorry for the late update but I got swamped with the weeks leading up to finals and then finals at the end of June. As soon as my finals ended I went on a trip and I've just been recovering from that. I've also been writing scenes for this story and "Vongola Vigilantes" at the same time but the scenes also don't make sense chronologically so I have a lot of mess I need to piece together later for each story. Hopefully I will update quicker next time. Thank you for the love and support I've gotten already! I really appreciate it!

#katekyo hitman reborn #fanfiction #katekyo hitman reborn fanfiction #the curse of the sky rewrite #byakuran as Tsuna's dad #sawada tsunayoshi #Byakuran Gesso #byakuran #gesso tsunayoshi #tsunayoshi gesso #hitman reborn #khr #Want Emancipation

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catalinda04 · 6 years ago

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Carried Away Chapter 63: Honeymoon

Masterlist

Lucy and Henry sat cuddled together in the movie room of the Lodge on Henry’s last day before leaving for filming in London. There was a movie playing on the screen, though neither of them cared about watching it.

“Are you excited to be going back to London?” Lucy asked.

“It will be nice to be back home, but it won’t be the same without you there.”

“But you’ll be so busy with training then filming, you’ll barely have time to miss me. And you’ll have Kal to keep you company. I’ll be all alone here for nine weeks.”

“You’re welcome to keep Kal with you,” Henry offered.

“No, it will be easier for me to close up the house, and get it completely clean without the bear in residence.”

“But, just think, by the time you get to London I’ll be almost done with filming and we can finally go on our honeymoon,” he teased.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going? Fiji? Bora Bora? The Maldives? The Seychelles? Tell me!”

“You’ll just have to wait until June, my darling, though I can assure you, you will love it,” he said pressing his lips sweetly to hers.

Lucy laid her head on his chest to watch the movie playing on the screen. Her mind whirring with thoughts unspoken. “Henry?” Lucy asked, not lifting her head.

“Hmmm,” he responded absentmindedly.

“I know we haven’t talked about the “B” word since last Thanksgiving,” she said, his full attention suddenly on her, “but I was wondering what you thought about maybe trying on our honeymoon…” she trailed off.

Henry sat up, and paused the movie, wanting to give this conversation his entire focus. “I think that sounds like a great idea, but are you sure?”

“Why? Don’t you want to have a baby yet?” Lucy asked, concerned.

“I’m all for having a baby tomorrow if it were possible, I just want to know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking I want to have a baby with you, and that at my age it might not happen right away, so if we want a baby, we should start trying sooner rather than later.”

“Why don’t we start trying right now?” Henry smiled.

“Mainly because I’m still on the pill. And I really don’t want to be suffering from morning sickness on my honeymoon,” Lucy laughed.

“I can see your point,” he smiled, “though we could practice trying…” he suggested, his eyebrows dancing mischievously.

“Practice does make perfect…” Lucy agreed.

April and May passed quickly for Lucy. She talked to Henry every night, and threw herself into her work in an effort to avoid missing him and Kal.

One day at the start of May, Lucy knocked on the door to the principal’s office.

“Good morning, Mrs. Cavill, what can I do for you today?”

Taking a seat in front of the desk, Lucy handed a piece of paper across the desk. “I’m here to submit my formal resignation, official as of the last day of school.”

He skimmed the paper and looked up at her. “I assumed this was coming. There’s no way we can persuade you to stay?”

“Sorry, but Henry and I want to start a family, and I want to be free to follow him on location, if I want to. Though we’re keeping the house here, so if we happen to land here for any length of time, I might put my name in to sub.”

“Well, we’d appreciate that. We’ll miss you Lucy. Though we still have almost a full month of class left, and a graduation. It’s kind of poetic that you’re leaving with your senior class.”

“I thought so too. It feels good to be going out on top, with such a great class.”

“They really are a great class,” he agreed. “Well, Lucy we hate to lose you, but I understand. We’ll have to plan something for the end of the year. How long are you sticking around this summer?”

“No time at all. I’ll meet Henry in London then we’re off to our honeymoon.”

“Oooooh, where are you going?”

“I don’t know! He won’t tell me!” Lucy exclaimed exasperated.

“That’s some husband to plan a surprise honeymoon.”

“He’s one of the good ones,” Lucy agreed.

“Well, I’ll let you get to it. I’m sure you’ve got a lot to do today. Thank you for letting us know early that you’ll be leaving. Have a great day.”

“Thanks Erik, you too.” Lucy said, shaking the principal’s hand.

Once Lucy confirmed that she wouldn’t be returning the next year, the students started trying to persuade her to stay.

“But, Mrs. C, if you leave, who is going to teach Spanish 2 next year?” One of her first year students asked.

“I don't imagine they’ll have any trouble filling the position. I just ask that you give whoever they get a chance, especially if that person is a first year teacher.”

“But we don’t want you to go,” another student protested.

“I’m sorry Amelia, but I’m leaving whether you want me to or not.”

“Well, I don’t like it.” The red haired girl replied.

“Guys, it’s not that I’m ecstatic about leaving you all, but my life is changing. I’ll be sure to come to games and events if I’m in the area.”

“You better.”

Before Lucy knew it, graduation had arrived. As a Senior class advisor, she had been instrumental in helping the students to plan their ceremony. She had helped more than one class elected speaker with their speech, and had filled out endless paperwork to order the supplies the students wanted.

Her homeroom students were getting themselves ready in her room. She circulated amongst them, straightening stoles, and pinning caps. Just before the group was to leave line up, she called for their attention.

“Ok guys, this is it. You did it. Congratulations. I’m so proud of all of you. It has been my pleasure to get to know you all over the last six years. Even though I’m leaving too, I don’t want you guys to be strangers. Please keep in touch, let me know about your successes, and feel free to ask me for help if you’ve had a failure. And if any of you find yourselves in London, look me up. I’ll buy you a pint.”

“Mrs. C!” Patricia exclaimed, scandalized.

“I’m not your teacher anymore, it’s fine. And in London you’d be legal, so even less of a deal. Now, line up, and remember, just like we did at practice.

Lucy followed the group to the school’s gymnasium, giving them their timings to process up to the stage. She took her place backstage to watch the administrators give their speeches, and the students speak confidently about their time at the school. She held back her tears as she watched her “kids” receive their diplomas and switch their tassels.

The time came for the students to make their exit out to the school’s front lawn, when, Daniel, the class president approached the podium. Lucy had no idea what was going on, this hadn’t happened at practice that morning.

“Thank you again parents, friends, family, and teachers. Before we go, there is someone else the class would like to thank. Mrs. Lucy Cavill has been one of our advisors since 7th grade. She has spent countless hours, over the last six years, facilitating fundraisers, and class trips, chaperoning dances, and in one memorable instance she spent an entire weekend letting us throw whipped cream pies at her face. She has always been willing to help us, even if it wasn’t her subject area. She has been tough on us, and we are better for it. Mrs. Cavill is leaving with us this year. We didn’t want her to leave without letting her know just how much she has meant to us,” he turned to motion Lucy to the podium. “Mrs. Cavill, if you’d come here please, the class has something for you.”

Lucy’s eyes were shining with tears as she approached the young man at the podium. She gave him a hug, and he motioned to the other side of the stage where two girls, both wearing Superman capes over their graduation gowns, were walking toward her. One girl carried a huge bouquet of tulips in every color imaginable. The other carried a teddy bear wearing a school jersey and a graduation cap. Lucy laughed as the girls handed over their presents before embracing her in a group hug.

The next day, Lucy took her time getting ready for the day. It was her last day as a teacher at the school. The staff had a half day of in-service before they were allowed to leave for the summer. There was a going away party planned that night for Lucy at a local restaurant.

Lucy had spent much of the past week sorting through her school supplies; packing boxes to bring to a friend who also taught Spanish, donating items to other teachers in the building, and deciding what should be left for whoever came after her.

The going away party was bittersweet, Lucy loved the opportunity to spend time with these people she had grown so close to, but loathed the saying goodbye. Even though she knew that she would see them all again, it wouldn’t be the same.

Lucy spent her Saturday cleaning The Lodge, getting it ready to be closed up until at least November. She and Henry planned to spend much of the month at The Lodge, including Thanksgiving with Lucy’s family. She went out to dinner with her parents and her grandma Joanne. Both Marie and Joanne cried as they hugged Lucy goodbye.

“I’ll be back in November. It’s only five months away,” she reassured them.

“We’ve never gone that long without seeing each other before,” her mother protested.

“I’ll call all the time. You’ll get sick of me calling you,” Lucy joked.

“I love you my Lucy-Goosey,” Marie said, hugging her daughter tight.

Sunday morning John drove his daughter to Clint and Anna’s house where she would stay overnight, before Clint drove her to the airport the following day. It gave Lucy the opportunity to spend some time with her niece and nephew before she left.

Monday afternoon Lucy was finally boarding a plane to take her to London. She hadn’t seen Henry in over nine weeks, and she missed him fiercely. “Here I go,” she thought to herself, “starting a whole new chapter of my life.”

Lucy had a full week in London to fill while Henry was filming. She had a lunch with her sisters-in-law one day, relishing the chance to catch-up with the women she hadn’t seen since her wedding. She even flew to Amsterdam for a day to visit Sarah and Paolo, though Henry knew where she was going this time.

Finally Sunday morning arrived, and Lucy and Henry were getting ready to depart for their honeymoon. Henry still hadn’t told her where they were going. As they rode the train to Gatwick airport, Lucy asked again, “please will you tell me where we’re going?”

“No, darling, it’s going to be a surprise,” Henry replied, kissing her temple.

“Do you know what this is doing to me? I haven’t researched anything. I don’t know what the things to do are, or where are the best places to eat, or what are the best things to eat. I feel so unprepared,” she whined.

“Darling, I can assure you, there will be plenty of information about activities, should I decide to let you out of bed,” he murmured in her ear, causing her to blush.

They checked in, and Lucy took her ticket from Henry. “Dubai? We’re going to Dubai? I brought clothes for a tropical beach relaxation trip, not a desert city trip.”

Henry laughed, enjoying needling his wife. He let her stew about it while they made their way through security. Once they were safely ensconced in the airline’s first class lounge, he finally put her out of her misery. “Darling, we are only connecting through Dubai,” he started, digging into his carry-on bag, “on our way to,” he held up the guide book he’d purchased for her, “the Seychelles.”

Lucy gasped as her hands flew to her mouth. “That’s where Will and Kate went!”

“It is.”

“And you got me a guidebook,” she said, taking it from his hand and kissing his cheek.

“I did, and I understand that you will very likely not be speaking to me on the flight, because your nose will be buried in said book,” he replied, reaching back into his carry-on bag.

“That would be a correct assumption. I only wish I had some,” she looked over at what he had pulled from his bag, “highlighters! A whole pack!” She jumped up, before settling herself on his lap, looping her arms around his neck. “I knew there was a reason I married you,” she pressed her mouth to his. “I love you Darcy. Thank you.”

“I love you too Cupcake.”

Lucy couldn’t believe her eyes as she wandered around the villa Henry had rented for their week in The Seychelles. It was almost bigger than The Lodge, in the middle of, what felt like, their own private rainforest. It wasn’t over the water, but the the private beach in front of the villa made up for that.

“Wait, it has a pool AND a private beach? That’s it. I’m moving here,” Lucy said, turning back to Henry.

“We also have a private butler just for us, to get or arrange anything we need,” he said, ambling toward his wife, drawing her close.

“You are too good to me,” Lucy said, dropping a kiss on his lips.

“You put up with a lot, being with me. I want to show you I appreciate all of your sacrifices,” he said, kissing her sweetly.

“Well, right now, I want a shower, and then I want to go for a swim. Did I tell you I bought three new suits for the trip?”

“You did not, but do you know the best part about having our own private pool? No suit required,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Mmmmm, that does sound nice,” Lucy agreed, pulling Henry toward the master bathroom.

Lucy and Henry didn't leave their villa for the first three days of the trip, cocooning themselves in a bubble all their own. They passed their days sunning themselves by their private pool, or on their private beach, making love at every available opportunity, and just enjoying being together again.

Once they did venture out from their private oasis, Lucy convinced Henry to take her diving with the whale sharks. He wouldn’t admit it to her, but he was terrified of the giant creatures, but after seeing the expression on Lucy’s face when she removed her mask, he would have gone diving with her a dozen more times.

The couple returned to London tanned, and happy, and relaxed. Ready to enjoy being married and being together. Lucy wasn’t positive, but she had a good feeling about their attempts at making a baby.

Her confirmation came at the end of July. It started with a feeling of nausea while she was caramelizing onions one evening. The following morning, while Henry was out for his morning run, she awoke with an instant need to run to the bathroom to vomit. She barely allowed herself to hope that she might be pregnant already. That afternoon while Henry was out with Kal, Lucy made her way to the pharmacy around the corner, and after staring at the tests for several long minutes bought three different brands, just to be sure. She hid the tests in the bathroom cupboard to take the next morning while Henry was out for his run.

Lucy could barely sleep that night, thinking about the tests waiting for her in the morning. As soon as Henry left, Lucy popped out of bed, a decision she immediately regretted, as she was kneeling over the toilet, ridding herself of last night’s dinner.

She opened all three boxes, taking out the six test sticks, lining them up on the counter. Once the tests had been completed, Lucy laid them all face down on the counter, and rather than pace herself silly in the bathroom, went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.

Tea in hand, Lucy approached the bathroom counter cautiously. She turned the first stick over, two pink lines showed in the window. The second test showed the same. Lucy’s heart was racing as she flipped the third test. A plus sign stared back at her, then a second plus sign on the next test. Happy tears poured down her face as she flipped the fifth and sixth tests, which both simply read “pregnant”. All six tests confirmed what she had barely let herself hope. She was going to be a mom.

Lucy gathered up the test sticks and her cup of tea, and left Henry a note, then went to the roof to drink her tea and bask in her joy. That was how Henry found her 45 minutes later. Clutching her tea, and staring out over the London city skyline.

“Good morning darling, you’re up early,” Henry said, kissing his wife, before sitting on the end of her chaise sun chair.

“I had something I had to do this morning,” she said cryptically, before pulling out one of the test sticks. It took him a second to comprehend what he was seeing. The two pink lines blurred as he realized what it meant.

“You’re pregnant?” He asked, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks.

“You’re going to be a daddy,” she laughed, her tears starting again.

Henry’s words escaped him. He pulled Lucy to him and they held each other, crying their tears of joy. “I’m crushing you! I don’t want to hurt the baby!” Henry exclaimed, releasing his wife.

“Darcy, the baby isn’t even the size of a walnut yet, you’re fine,” Lucy laughed, resting her hands on her stomach.

Henry removed her hands and lowered his head to her stomach. “Hello in there. This is your papa. I can’t wait to meet you,” he said soothingly before pressing a kiss to her stomach.

“It’s really happening. We’re going to be parents,” he said in awe.

“We’re going to be a family,” Lucy corrected him.

Chapter 62 Epilogue

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill fan fic #Henry Cavill fanfiction #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Carried Away

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margarethelstone · 6 years ago

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Once Mine: Chapter 2 - Nothing Has Changed

I still think about you I still dream about you I still want you and need you by my side

fanfiction.net / AO3 / wattpad

'I shouldn’t have spoken to her in that way. Or leave the house like that.' Hiccup thought, observing the kids who were supposed to be working on the farm of not-so-silent-Sven. 'She gets up at dawn, just to make sure she does that before me. She keeps the house clean, which, in a Viking house certainly isn't an obvious thing. For gods' sake, this woman learned how to cook!'

He definitely should've been more patient.

He glanced down. It was long ago when he’d realised how much more effective this tactic was – overseeing the kids from the dragon's perspective made it harder for them to elude the boy's sharp eyes and consequently shirk their work. Especially, that even if the young man omitted something, his dragon certainly did not. This time wasn't any different.

“Yeah, bud, I've noticed.” He patted Toothless on his neck just after the dragon had turned his attention to the right side.

“Codcatch, if you think I don't see you, you're wrong!” he shouted. “And so are you, Ternshot!”

The twins, both thirteen years old, leaned out from behind the heap of chests where they were hiding; they were doing their best, pretending they had no idea, what their Chief was talking about.

Unluckily for them, doing their best did not mean that they actually did it well.

'Why is it always about the twins?' a single thought crossed his mind.

He smiled in remembrance of the wild ideas Ruff and Tuff used to come up with. It wasn't getting any better – on the contrary, each try could've been expected to be even more insane than the former. It seemed that every next day made them more and more creative. Although… it looked like they did calm down a little bit lately.

When did that happen?

'Last year.'

He chased away the thought which immediately appeared in his mind. He spotted that Codcatch and Ternshot were again under Sven's supervision and, having that recognized, he let his dragon friend know it was time for them to leave. They turned back in a gracious manner as they headed to the lonely hut of the tribal Healer. New duties were waiting for him to come and Hiccup could only wonder how his father had dealt with all that – not only unable to count on the dragons' help, but having to work in a state of constant await of their unexpected attacks.

'As it happens', he confessed to himself 'He didn't have too much help on my side, either.'

He was completely lost in admiration for Stoick. How could he not be?

“You know what, Bud?” he said a moment later. “We really have to do something about naming things.”

When they arrived, he realised that he had – once again – mistakenly judged his advisor's character, just as much as his own persuasing skills. Their visit at Gothi's house was about to take much more time than he initially intended – and caused a lot more bruises than he could ever expect.

“Ouch!” he cried out as she punched him with her infamous wooden staff. “I really don't think I deserved that!”

She whacked him again.

“Hey!” Hiccup stepped away, trying to gain a safe position. “Alright, I've probably did deserve that one. But it hurts anyway.”

He massaged the pulsating place on the side of his head, gazing at the Healer attentively. He certainly didn't feel healed but apparently, that was not the old lady’s intention. Gothi bent down and using her staff, she scratched something on a sand. Hiccup decoded the line with no trouble – not because he finally learned to understood the Herbalist, but because Gothi wrote it for the third time this day.

He shrugged his arms in a lieu of an answer.

“Help, help. All I hear of these day is help. What's the matter with that?” he bridled. “Bad labour division? It's perfect.”

Gothi raised her left eyebrow in disbelief.

“Come on, you know that I won't be gathering all of these weeds by myself, right? But I need that list, so I can pass it on to someone else.”

“What?! No, I can't send him to you!” The soreness in Hiccup’s voice was obviously growing. “If I could, I wouldn't be flying back and forth for the whole day. Fishlegs is busy with the Academy. Everybody is busy with the Academy.”

The old woman scribbled again.

“I beg your pardon,” he replied with a grumpy tone in his voice, as he finally managed to interpret vague symbols on the ground. “I am not a mutton head, and I'm not being stubborn, I'm being consequent. Or more like I would be if everyone around me didn't make it their goal to hamper me on that. Where's the help you're all talking about? Where's the trust? By the way, Gothi, a grain of respect wouldn't hurt either. As the Chief of Berk, I think I can expect a little… Ouch!”

The Chief of Berk teetered under the blow that had belted him from above, hitting the very middle of his skull. The old lady certainly didn't stint on her staff – Hiccup was starting to believe that the Healer had never really needed a purchase and the only valid reason for using it was a chance of giving bruises to all the Vikings she considered defiant or insolent.

Or the ones who had both of the features. Whether it was a Chief or not – it made no difference.

“Gothi, please.”

She ignored him. Without saying a word, she approached the edge of the platform, watching the ocean, opened out ahead them. With a gesture, she ordered him to stand next to her.

Resigned, Hiccup carried out her order. He followed her sight and fixed his own on the steady depths of the water; h had no idea what exactly he was supposed to search for but he knew that both questions and protests were of no use here. Nudged, he turned to the other side. He looked the island over, spotting what he usually saw – an everyday confusion, mundane troubles, prosaic obstacles. A great deal of joy. His ears were approached by the never-ending din of the routine Viking life. Suddenly, he felt it was weighing him down; Hiccup finally started to understand.

“I know. They can’t be controlled, but you know, that’s not what I intend. I’m just trying to protect them, in the only way I know. Every morning, every night. I want them to know that they can rely on me.” He averted his eyes. “Besides, even the ocean can be curbed. We’re Vikings, after all.”

The Chief glanced at the old lady again and read through her thoughts without the slightest effort. That was the one thing he’d never had problems with

“Yes, alone. Sometimes. At least, I have to try.”

Gothi shook her head and sighed, displeased. However, she did give him the list he’d asked her for and this time, her staff stayed away from his skull.

“Thank you,” he said calmly. “When only I find a moment, I’ll commission somebody to take care of it. I will make sure you get your ingredients as soon as possible.”

He made his way to Toothless, who’d been lying on the platform for the whole time. Right before he mounted his dragon, he’d turned around and asked:

“I can’t help but wonder if you’d been educating my father in the same way. So… painfully? Don’t get me wrong, but I still have some trouble imagining it.”

The village Healer grinned with gusto and nodded in confirmation. Hiccup raised his eyebrows, astonished. It really was hard to envision Gothi, beating the Stoick the Vast with a stick, but apparently, he was wrong. Very wrong, maybe.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he jumped on the saddle and in a matter of seconds they soared up in the air.

The Elder followed them with her sight, while her smile, brought up by a memory, slowly disappeared as she thought about the young Dragon Rider. Too much misery, too much sorrow had hit that boy during the past sixteen months. Too many complications arrived in his life almost at the same time.

'When you have to gain new duties, it is always difficult. Responsibility is difficult. But as long as you can count on the support and advise of the person who imposes that responsibility on you, from whom you get your duties, the task can be carried out. When that help is missing and you have to learn everything from your own mistakes, completing it seems almost impossible.'

Gothi was still staring at the sky, even though her young Chief was long gone by now.

'What can be told about a man, whose side is taken not by a friend, but by Death itself?'

The sun was slowly fainting away over the lip of the sky; week by week, the days were shorter and colder, and even though there still was quite a lot of time until the winter solstice would come, Hiccup Haddock the Third still felt that he needed many more bright hours in a day.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to re-schedule our work on the feeders for another day,” the man pointed out, dissatisfied. He was bending over a bucket full of turbid water which they’d just drawn from a well. “Which means that once again, we don’t keep up with the plan.”

He sighed, feeling low. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He would just have to get up even earlier and try to make up for the lost time on the next day. The Rider smiled bitterly, pondering if he should go to bed at all. He raised his head as he’d heard a noise, coming from the Arena.

It was filled with life again – Dragon Training was on the go.

“It’s a bit sad we’re not there, don’t you think?” Hiccup pulled out a paper with the map of underground rivers, supplying all of the Berk’s wells. “However you put it, we’ve started this whole Academy thing.” With a few quick moves he marked another polluted well on the map. “Maybe it wasn’t exactly the same, but it’s still a shame we can’t watch them training.”

“Are you insane?!” Snotlout’s voice, both furious and scared, echoed in the vicinity. “Would you please control that dragon, you mutton heads! It’s sparking all around!”

“It’s not our fault your dragon is so flammable. Geez.” It sounded like Tuffnut was truly enjoying the situation. “I don’t have this problem with mine.”

“Nor do I!” Ruff accompanied him, chuckling.

“Guys? One dragon?”

“Heather was right, absolutely nothing has changed.” The Chief smirked, still leaning over his graph.

“I don’t care about how many dragons they are, Fishface!” Snotlout wasn’t going to give up. “You’ve almost got me killed!”

“But you lived!” a familiar female voiced resonated in Hiccup’s head. “Yay us.”

He felt a twinge in his chest. He lowered his head instantly, and the smile that had finally find its way to his face, disappeared in a second. Once again, he was caught by that dreadful remorse that had followed him for so long.

He was not allowed to smile.

“Nothing has changed?” He whispered to himself. Feeling a lump in his throat, he couldn’t have done much more. “How could I think that? How could I spend a minute, being foolish enough to believe such a thing?”

A helpless anger showed on his face.

“How could I pretend that life can go on at all after all that? After...”

He gritted his teeth, unable to finish his thought. His hands were shaking, his eyes were wet again – and he only wondered for how long the very mention of Astrid would make him react this way.

And right after, he realised that he wanted it to last as long as possible. Until the end, no matter when and how it would get to him.

“Everything has changed.”

He heard another shout coming from the Arena, and then a sound of a breaking wood. An explosion followed, accompanied by Snotlout’s groan and the laugher of everyone else.

Hiccup rose from his knees with difficulty; with his hands still trembling, he folded the map and hid it in an inside pocket of his armour. He came up to Toothless, and making sure that the lashing straps of his saddle were properly tightened, got on his back. The Viking didn’t even glance at the Arena, even when the next trick – certainly caused by one of the pupils – made the surrounding shake. There was no point.

He poked his friend, implying it was high time to leave, however, it was apparent that the Night Fury was not at all intending to understand that most obvious sign. The dragon remained in the same position, and only with the swing of his head, he kept pointing to the direction of where the gang were.

The boy harnessed his will to answer that demand. He almost managed to sound calmly, to avoid that unnatural vibration in his voice.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” He pat Toothless on the neck. “They can cope with it alone. By saying it’s a shame I didn’t mean we should visit them. We still have one more well to check and you know it’s not all that’s left for today, right? Besides, I’m definitely not in the mood for visiting them at the moment.”

He straightened, just in time to avoid being slapped in the face by Toothless’s ear – another terrific way in which his four-legged friend would express a disapproval for his Rider’s ideas applied; just as willingly as tripping the Viking’s legs with the deft motion of his dragon tail.

“Why is it always violence with you?” Hiccup asked, pretending he didn’t know the answer and pushing away the one that immediately appeared in his mind.

The Night Fury purred joyfully, confirming his speculations.

“That’s a horrible way of communication, trust me. Even for you.” The Chief answered, rolling his eyes. “Even though it works sometimes. Now let’s go.”

Toothless cast his longing sight to the Arena for the last time, but rushed, he eventually took off. His Rider felt a cold breeze touching his skin. One more time, he thought that adding a mask to his helmet could definitely be regarded one of his best ideas – also being much more practical that his father had thought.

On the other hand, Hiccup had to admit that each time he rose into the air, exposing himself to the power of an icy winter, a pleasant shiver went through his young, tired body. In those short moments, the Chief happened to forget about all of his overwhelming duties, about the responsibility that lay on him constantly; about the grief accompanying him all the time.

For a split second he felt free.

He took a deep breath, looking around. His gaze turned involuntarily and rested on the quiet waters of the ocean, which surrounded his family island. The storm that had hit Berk just a day earlier left no trace of itself – the sea wasn’t a danger anymore – at this very moment, it rather seemed to tenderly wrap up the entire Archipelago than threat it with its power. Hiccup heard his friend purr with delight and he suddenly remembered what Gothi had said to him that day.

“She’s right. The Vikings are like the ocean. Uncouth, unpredictable and very dangerous. But it’s not all that we are.” He well knew that it wasn’t exactly what the Healer meant but he also didn’t care much about it. “You know, I think we don’t live as close to Hopeless as I imagined. Twelve days would be way to little. I’m quite sure we would need more than three weeks of a good flight to get there.”

He quivered, when a cold gust touched his back.

“Still, Freezing to Death seems to be closer than ever.”

Toothless snorted, disrespectfully.

“Oh, come on. I know you don’t appreciate my sense of humour, but you really could’ve got used to it after all these years. More than six, to be exact.”

With a sudden move of his head, Toothless gave him to understand that he could not, no matter if it was six or sixty six years. Night Furies happened to be maliciously choosy. And very, very stubborn.

“Well, it looks like I won’t change your mind about that. I’m sorry Bud, the problem here is yours and yours only. Now focus, we’re gonna land.”

“Come on, Toothless! It’s time to come back to the earth,” Hiccup commanded flatly after realising that his latest reproof had been completely ignored. “Stop fooling around, we don’t have time for this.”

His friend had different plans, though. Folding his trunk rapidly, he turned back. The boy matched the set-up of the artificial tail in a reflex action, realising his own stupidity a few seconds later. He pushed the pedal, trying to make his dragon change the direction of his flight. It didn’t work too well. Toothless stayed poised in the air, but he had no intention of calming down – he kept yanking his body, struggling to continue his previous path. His motions were so swift that Hiccup started to doubt if he could even remain in his saddle.

“Hey, stop it!” he cried severely. “I don’t care about your momentary whims! You hear me?! We’re going straight to the target. I said, enough!”

As soon as he voiced the last phrase, he knew he’d been too harsh. There was an anger in his words, although he didn’t understand where it came from nor did he know why his voice sounded so terribly icy-cold. Toothless calmed down immediately, surprised with the bolt his Rider tossed at him and Hiccup grasped that until that moment, he’d only shouted at his friend like that once. Back then, he’d promised to himself not to ever repeat it. He definitely hadn’t expected he would break his word so easily, because of such a poor reason – but no matter how much he regretted his thoughtless action, he couldn’t have retracted it.

He was tired. And he had no strength or will to apologize.

With a firm move, he directed his dragon to the last well.

#once mine #hiccunzel #fanfiction #dead story continues to die #tangled #httyd #httyd 2

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mcjour · 4 years ago

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so the other day was the anniversary of my friend’s death and i realized there was so much i didn’t process there like at all.

i can barely even remember what our relationship was. he definitely wasn’t a close best friend or anything, at least. but the line between acquaintance and friend is blurred. like, i didn’t exactly hang out with him. but it’s not like i was really hanging out with anyone at that point lol.

so i see his closer friends (also my friends) post something on facebook sometimes and i am like huh am i entitled to that? was i close enough to him or would posting be attention seeking?

i mean there isn’t anything i need to post or anything but thought that was an interesting thought. especially knowing my friends who knew him really wouldn’t even be the type to gatekeep grief anyway but like i said just a thought

gosh i barely even remember him and that’s so awful. like the day i found out he died, we all posted about it and so my memories are only the ones i wrote down in that post. they were nice memories, but i hate that my brain has deleted so much of my life

anyway can’t believe it’s been 5 years!

i think about him a lot, actually. not all the time, but more than i would expect

one thing i thought about this week was how traumatizing finding out was. because we all found out through a mass email to the entire campus. heartbreaking, probably the worst way to find out. i don’t really blame the school for that or anything, it’s not like they have a roster of all your connections or anything lol. but that doesn’t make it any less sucky

i remember i was texting a friend and maybe she was the one to read the email first? but either way i remember us being like, hold on, are we reading this correctly? our friend had a decently common name, so on a large campus, could there have been someone else with his name? but no. he was ours.

i remember i was in the dining hall getting food right before work. i was in shock. i don’t remember if i cried then and there, but i definitely cried at work. i don’t really know why i didn;t just not go to work. probably i didn’t even know who i would talk to about it. besides, what else was i supposed to do? it’s not like there was a guide to how to react when you find out your friend is dead via campus email.

i remember walking to my dorm after my shift. for some reason i worked on the opposite side of campus than i lived lol. i was probably cold and tired and dirty and wet from working in the dish room. i was listening to music as i walked. as i walked up the steep hill (almost home!), the song lifegoeson by noah and the whale came on shuffle. there’s a verse about the singer’s “last night on earth” and having no regrets or something. and wow i think i probably just bawled right then and there knowing that it had literally been my friend’s last night on earth the night or 2 before.

when you looked at his twitter, that night (or sometime in the days before), he had retweeted a bunch of tweets saying “i could really use a hug right now.” i don’t think i had seen it at the time, like i don’t think i used twitter every day or anything. but to look back at that is so stinging. like, one of those cliche moments wondering if you could go back into the past and change something. like if i had seen that and reached out to him, would he still be alive today? and really who knows. and who knows, maybe other friends DID see, and DID reach out. it’s not really something i spend a lot of time guilting over or anything. but it still is really something to look back at, the cries for help immortalized on the internet.

his twitter account was later hacked and became like a porn bot account which was also just devastating. luckily i think those tweets got deleted, but the profile picture and the bio still remain. and his old tweets too, like i said.

there’s also a message he sent me a few months before he died inviting me to a party, which was so kind. and literally the day before he died, he sent me a cat video. or maybe it was the night he died. the link is dead now, so i don’t remember what the video was. there’s no response. i don’t know if i ignored it or if i just didn’t check twitter.

maybe he was trying to comfort us through his death. in retrospect, i guess i really was a friend if i was one of the people he reached out to in those final hours

his death was right before finals too. which meant we were all totally fucked, i was already tanking a lot of my classes as it already was. i ended up taking an incomplete in one and finishing the next semester. i am sure many of my friends were in similar boats. the friend who passed was actually about to graduate. he was 24. i must’ve been 19 at the time, almost 20. he seemed so much older. i am 24 now, so lol.

the reason i was struggling so much before this was that my cat had died about a month prior. he was my entire world.

i couldn’t imagine life without my cat. i can’t remember when i started feeling suicidal myself, but my friend’s death definitely exacerbated that feeling. i think i felt like he beat me to it. and i didn’t want people to think i was a copy cat either. but every time i cut through the fine arts center i’d stand and look over the edge and wonder if it was high enough. i really don’t think it was LOL. but i was in so much pain.

what helped was my advisor slash professor. i had emailed all my professors about the deaths just to give them a heads up if i was missing class or assignments or whatever. and i remember i typed something like sorry, i am just having a really shitty semester. and she replied and was like yeah no that’s an understatement. and she invited me to like hang out and chat and eat donuts and i felt super awkward and anxious about the whole thing but she was so kind and helped me get through some of the professor issues i was having. plus the donut. that ended up really jumpstarting our relationship and she was so important to my college career.

i knew another person from that same group who also died. i was not as close to her, but was of course still sad to hear of her passing. and it really speaks to how trauma can kill you, i think. most college groups do not lose two people. while they are still in college. there’s a photo of us from a house party and it’s weird that there’s i don’t know 10, 15, 20 people in the photo and 2 of them are dead.

these are things that i haven’t told anybody. because who could i tell?

like i could talk about my friend with our mutual friends, and we did right after he passed and stuff but like at some point that ends. and then i’m not really in close contact with any of them anymore. i would be happy to talk to any of them, don’t get me wrong, but i’m not about to contact these people out of the blue.

and anyone who didn’t know him wouldn’t know

and my cat too. i feel like that’s not as shareable of a grief. like society says that’s just a cat. and it was only a month after losing him that i lost my friend, so i was still grieving my cat when it happened. but now my friends all had their own grief and i didn’t want to divert the focus on my friend to be like hi i also am sad about my cat? that seems weird. the word that came to mind was selfish, and i don’t think that’s the correct word in this context. but it does just feel inappropriate.

then to go home at the end of the semester to an unsupportive household while weighted down by two huge deaths. i think i told my mom i wasn’t going to talk to her about my friend (what could i really say anyway). idk she’s the last place i would go for comfort.

and she made grieving the cat horrible. i don’t remember but i think she made it all about her somehow. like how she found the body and bla bla bla. i don’t remember.

the grief of both of these deaths has been bottled for 5 years.

something else i remembered: they set up group counseling for me and my friends. and so i went. i wasn’t too keen on counseling, but i think i was just in shock still and figured it would be good for me. and good to be with friends, whether for my sake or theirs.

so it was run by this lady. this horrible lady. the lady who sent me to the hospital for no fucking reason. so i was like holy fucking shit!!! but once again i think i was kinda in shock, like wtf was i supposed to do, just walk out and make a scene? so i sat there. and she sucked lol. i smiled at one point. i have no idea why i smiled. it was unconcious. maybe i remembered a happy memory, maybe it was just a nervous response who fucking knows. either way she called me out on it and was like why are you smiling? now i think it is rude in general to just call someone out like that LOL but this just so happened to be a very specific trigger of mine from high school days. so i think i literally ran out of the room. one of my friends followed me and talked with me out in the staircase. i know i didn’t go back, but i can’t remember if my friend went back or not. i think i felt bad having her comfort me over some dumb thing, instead of getting counseling herself, but she was definitely like nah that lady sucks. someone i think said the lady made a comment about me leaving too. idk. anyway she’s an ass.

unrelated, kinda, this lady taught the intro to social work class which i really wanted to take but i was like hell NO. luckily one semester they got someone else to teach it. it sucked in a totally different way LOL.

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odderancyart · 7 years ago

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Bittersweet pt. 2

First AO3 Warnings: Death, miscarriage. If any of these subjects triggers you - or makes you uncomfortable - you can either read to the *** and get a different ending, or skip the part between *** and ***. I'm pretty sure you'll understand what's going on anyway.

Weddings bells chimed. Monsters and humans cheered. The great doors to the Temple got thrown open, and the newly married and crowned royal couple revealed themselves to the masses. King Razz and Queen Susannah. The King was wearing a purple uniform and crown of white gold. The Queen’s dress was light blue and her crown rosé gold. They were both smiling. Both at each other and at their people. They made their way down the marble stairs, and everyone threw cherry- and apple blossom petals and rice at them to bless them with a happy and prolific marriage.

Sans watched the couple as the people parted to let them through. Of course he was at the wedding. He smiled as he watched the love of his life and his wife. Tears were in his eye sockets, but he blinked them away. They had always known it couldn’t be, and he was glad Razz – His Majesty – had married someone who he could be happy with. The former Countess, now Queen, Susannah was known for her kind heart. The ache in his soul wasn’t as important as that. Anyway, what would’ve happened even if they could have married? He, as a Prince and King Consort? He almost laughed at the absurdity. No, this was for the best.

Papyrus threw him a concerned gaze. Not even he had known about his relationship with the former prince. Sans shook his head lightly and smiled up at his brother. It was a bright smile. Real. Yes, it hurt. But Razz would have a joyous marriage and he could too, eventually. He had already mourned enough.

Therefor, when Razz accidentally caught his gaze, he didn’t look away. Instead he gave the other the most encouraging smile he could as they shared a second of solidarity. Then the moment passed. The King and Queen walked by, and stepped into the carriage waiting for them. The Queen kept waving while Razz just looked at her. Studying her. He seemed to find whatever he discovered satisfying. He had never been very interested in the wave-and-smile-thing the royals were expected to do when out in public.

The crowd watched as they disappeared. Then the musicians began to play, and the people’s wedding party began. Sans grinned as Papyrus laughed and invited one of the humans to dance.

Everything would be fine. It might take some time, but it would.

Eventually.

Sans was on his way back from his graduation ceremony – he was now a true alchemist – as he got the news. It had been from Dogamy and Dogaressa, a married couple of castle guards. As he walked past them, arms filled with scrolls, they stopped him. Sans smiled at their excited panting.

“Sans!” Dogamy yelled. “Did you hear the news?!” Sans blinked, and shook his head. He had been examinated all day. No news had reached the Alchemist Chambers. Dogaressa yipped, thrilled.

“(The Queen is pregnant!)”

Sans’ eye sockets widened. Pregnant? Two months after the wedding and Razz was going to become a father? A painful pulse in his soul. He ignored it. This was a wonderful thing. The king and queen would get a child and the kingdom would get an heir. He grinned at them, copying their agoged expressions.

“that’s brilliant,” he told them. “A baby princi in the castle.” Princi was the genderneutral form of prince or princess – for when they didn’t know or the royal in question didn’t identify with either gender. The dogs yipped again, and began to discuss It, filled with joy.

Sans left. He still had to put away his diplomas.

He hadn’t spoken with Razz since that night. It was a conscious decision on both their behalves. Sans wasn’t sure he’d be able to be close to the other without being allowed to touch him or at least speak properly. He still studied Razz from afar, though. Everyone did, of course, but he wanted to make sure his former lover was content.

Razz was made for ruling. He was one of the best kings they’d had, Sans was sure. Within a few months of his coronation the realm was already flourishing. The taxes were higher, but in difference to earlier also the nobility and temples had to pay them. That had not been popular. Healthcare was easier to get for the common people and the amount of guards in smaller towns had grown, protecting them from bandits. He seemed to enjoy himself when he sat on his silk-covered throne, telling people what to do.

He seemed close with his queen too. They smiled at each other, as much as Razz did smile at least. He normally just smirked. Touching. Talking. Even more when the Queen’s stomach began to grow. That was one thing Sans was sure of. Razz was overjoyed that he would become a father.

Sans soul was slowly healing too. It did no longer hurt to see the two together. He felt more energetic. His job was lots of fun, and he helped many of the realm’s denizens.

Things were good. Not perfect, but good.

***

One day as Sans was playing with chemicals in his lab, trying to figure out what they did when mixed, the door got thrown open. He almost dropped a bottle with explosive liquid in surprise. Luckily he managed to catch it again.

“what’s goi…” he began to say, annoyed, as he turned around to look at whoever had come. He fell quiet, though, as he saw the look on the human’s face.

“Master Sans!” He cried out, distressed. “We need help! It’s the Queen! She’s in labour and something is wrong!”

Sans stared for a short moment, processing, before quickly nodding. He gathered all his medicinal potions and herbs, throwing them into a bag. Razz’s wife and baby were in danger.

“show the way.”

The Royal Chambers were filled with people, panicking. Doctors and midwives were all over the place, and the Queen screamed in her bed. Her face was distorted in pain. Razz sat at the bedside, looking more scared than Sans had ever seen him. He didn’t even look up as they came into the room. Sans immediately set up his potions, discussing with the doctors and midwives what to do. A couple minutes later Sans basically poured a potion into the Queen’s mouth. She was unconscious within seconds. She didn’t stop whimpering in pain. There was nothing Sans could do about that; mixing two potions strong enough for both knocking her out completely and relieving the pain could be fatal.

Razz stared at him, eyelights wide and shaky.

“Sans,” he whispered. His voice was weak. “Please. Save her. Save my child.”

Sans’ soul hurt at seeing him like that. He looked so distressed. He just wanted to hold him. But he didn’t have either time nor possibility to do that. Instead he just nodded and quietly replied.

“i’ll do my best. i promise, razz.”

A midwife screamed in horror. He pointed, and everyone realized the covers was beginning to get covered in blood. The staff in the room got even more frantic, as everyone did their best to save the queen. And, if possible, the princi.

Years later, when Sans thought about this he realized he couldn’t for his life remember what had taken place here.

In the end, everything went deadly quiet. A doctor took the infant in her arms, wrapping them into a silver sheet. Silver. The colour of mourning.

“I’m sorry, your majesty,” was all she said. Razz stared for a few moments. At the doctor, his still-born child, and deceased wife. Without a word, he stood up. He left the room.

The atmosphere was sober as everyone began to pack. Servants came to clean up the blood. Sans didn’t say a word as he made his way back toward his chambers. He put everything in their proper places, and then went out in the hallways again. Up on the roof. The entire castle was silent, everyone was mourning. The only sounds were the temple bells’ slow ringing to honour the dead.

It was easy to find Razz. He always went to the same place when he was upset. Today was no different. Razz didn’t look up as he got there, but didn’t tell him to go away either. He was just sitting on the rafters, staring out over the city.

“i’m sorry,” Sans told him. “i’m so sorry.” He sat down next to the other, waiting. About ten minutes later, Razz finally looked at him. His face was blank.

“I didn’t love her,” he said. “not exactly. Susannah was lovely, and she became a good friend, but it wasn’t love.”

Sans nodded. He understood.

“it doesn’t have to be. you can still hurt.”

Nothing more was said. Not even when a few tears made their way down Razz’s face. They didn’t move either. Just sat there, watching the city as the sun disappeared behind the horizon.

***

They spent more time together again. Not romantically. Just talked and kept each other company. The first month after the Queen’s death Razz did nothing but rule. Sans sneaked into his rooms at night to make sure he ate properly. Then, one night Razz followed him back to his chambers and they discussed alchemy. Razz wore silver every day, as was tradition during the Year of Sorrow.

As the year was over, his advisors carefully suggested he re-marry, but Razz immediately told them no. That was not up to discussion.

Another half year later, Razz sat in Sans’ bed, drawing. Sans was just sitting next to him, watching it.

”SANS?” He asked, and Sans nodded to show he was listening. “MY YEAR OF SORROW IS OVER, AND I WAS THINKING… WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRY AGAIN? I STILL LOVE YOU. AND THIS TIME MY PARENTS WON’T BE ABLE TO MARRY ME OFF.”

Sans stared at him, shocked. The possibility honestly hadn’t even hit him. He hadn’t imagined that Razz would want to… He smiled, and kissed the other’s maxilla.

“yes.”

“WILL YOU MARRY ME, SANS?”

“yes.”

“Do you, King Razz, take Sans as your husband and consort to love and respect for the rest of your lives?”

“I DO.”

“Do you, Sans, take His Majesty as your husband to love and respect for the rest of your lives?”

“i do.”

Sans smiled. He was tired, but infinitely happy.

Watching his husband, his brother-in-law and his brother hold their newborn triplets he couldn’t help but laugh quietly. Razz bowed down to kiss him, smiling brighter than ever before. He caressed the little skeleton in his arms.

“I LOVE YOU.”

“I love you too.”

They grinned at each other.

Stars, he was so happy.

I was honestly going to write two different endings on this: this one and one where the queen survived and the princi too. Life went on, the royal marriage was happy if not romantic and in the end Sans found love in Blue or Red or Grillby or someone. Because one can always learn to love someone else after getting your heart broken. It might just take some time - or a lot.

That's actually an ending I really, really like, so I might write it out some other time. But as it is, have this.

#bittersweet #my writing #sans/razz #witheredcomic #rottenjoke #royalty au #miscarriage #death #sans #papyrus #sf sans #undertale #swapfell

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sleepycoffins-and-benhargreeves · 7 years ago

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TumblrFrostbite's AU Question: Regarding your OTP (Josie and Kazuya)'s child, how similar and different from their parents would they be growing up?

OHMYGOSH I CAN’T BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE INDULGING ME INTO THIS CRACK SHIP RARE OTP OF MINEbhsdbj. You are heaven sent bruh

Also, this got a little too long so I’m sorry ;w; I just have these two’s story written out so much in my head that I can;t help but, explain in so much detail ;w;

Okai, so Josie and Kazuya getting married and having a kid is a BIG WHAT IF or just a heavily implied AU. Because seriously, we’re talking about Kazuya here. The dude with serious daddy issues, mommy issues, child abuse, and trust and abandonment issues. Hell, he is clearly a textbook sociopath from the books I read.

But, let’s say he’s just a really heavily scarred man that can stray away from his past issues and can actually break away from said textbook sociopath. I imagine some life-threatening event happened first to either him or Josie before they actually got married. He’d be all like, screw world domination and destruction, if he can have a chance of a happy life with Josie, then he’d try to change. If that thought seriously came to him tbh.

So, if this were going to happen, I imagine him and Josie having deep talks and months or even a year of planning first before even considering having a child at all. Kazuya would bring up the past a lot and the devil gene. He probably already has it ingrained in his skull that his family was always meant to betray and kill each other and that would be fine for him, if Josie wasn’t in the picture. I imagine Josie trying to soothe out Kazuya’s past traumas herself until they eventually come to a time where they have couple/marital consultation and family planning consultation. But of course, entirely private at the confines of their home and no, they will not talk about the devil gene with the therapist.

This was probably suggested by one of Josie’s friends or advisors of Kazuya. I imagine the dude actually having advisors or something. Although, they’re usually for business, but since Josie talks to them, they caught up on the problem and tried to help. (Besides, Josie helped them with Kazuya actually coming close to below average nice.)

So, after months or a year of planning and consultations you’d think Kazuya would be ready for that shit but, no. This would be one of those very rare moments where Kazuya would feel a mixture of nervousness and joy and fear all at the same time.

In my head filled with fanfiction stories, I headcanon them having 3 kids, 2 boys and a girl. (PS: This fanfiction will never be written because not only do I not have the time for it but, I also know nobody would be interested enough to read it lol)

Their first child was a boy, which is why Kazuya was also reminded by Jin. Their first kid looks nothing like Jin(except maybe for the eyebrows), most of the baby’s features leaned towards Josie, even the skin colour and hair. So, he cried because he has mix feelings of wanting to protect the child but, also being heavily worried because what if this child would grow up to be just like him and Jin?

Kazuya is strict, more strict than, Josie could ever be. Having grown up from a traditional family of “Are you worthy enough to carry the name Mishima?”, all of those expectations and not to mention his own molded personality of being cruel; he has a hard time knowing which is punishment for the child and which is being a cruel father like Heihachi was to him.

Josie agreed on their child learning the Mishima fighting style as long as the kid also gets to learn Arnis and Yaw-Yan. Their children’s fighting style is a mixture of those two. Josie is your strict Asian mother that’s like “Your grades and all this blah blah blah must be high”, although she’s just a model and professional kickboxer, I imagine she’s also a college graduate with a degree somewhere in the field of medicine or engineer. She takes studies and extra-curricular activities very seriously and is always on full-on support to whatever her child loves to do.

But, she can also be a very doting mother who’s easy to give in to her child’s wants. But, It’s something like a reward system of “If you finish your homework then yes, we can go to Disneyland afterwards.” type of thing. Josie quite easily fit into the rick lifestyle since her family was already above middle-class before marrying Kazuya. Also, how she raises her children is exactly the same as to how she was raised, only with more expensive tastes.

Kazuya never realizes or most of the time doesn’t realize when he’s being too harsh and pushing their Mishima heir too hard. The kid would be in tears and he’d only think of it as “Inheriting the cry baby trait from his mother.” thought.

Him and Josie would have constant fights about how Kazuya is traumatizing their child. Kazuya tries to listen of course but, he always gives the rebuttal of “How can he be a Mishima if he can’t do this and that” kind of thing or “If he doesn’t become strong enough, his devil will consume him!” and the only way for him actually see that he’s in the wrong is when Josie tells him that he’s turning into his father. Kazuya would never want to be like Heihachi so, they make up with that and more therapy for Kazuya ensues.

Kazuya only got to be really close with their kid when Joshua (Yep,their kid’s name. Something like Joshua or Junichirou because it’s a Mishima thing to be named after their mother) was around 5 years old. Yes, they had their playdates together and Kazuya wanted to be home more often because he wants to see his family (But also protect Josie and see if the kid’s devil gene would active early)

Josie always explains to their kid how Kazuya is a good man and he just has a hard time understanding others so she asks for their child to be more understanding of his father. Joshua always tries to win his father’s favor by training hard, doing good academically, and trying to be an affectionate son by giving letters, handmade gifts, and cooking with his mother. More often than, not Joshua breaks down from pressure and high expectations from both of his parents. They’re both very demanding so, I imagine Joshua getting a therapist even at a young age.

That and also because I love the headcanon from Kazuyagoddamnmishima that the devil gene gives you chronic nightmares. Kazuya is used to it, but ever since he and Josie got together, they’ve lessened. He can’t teach his son how he coped with them so, they brought him to a therapist instead. Even though, Joshua hasn’t activated his devil gene yet, the nightmares still happen because of the pressure and expectations. They all stay up together to keep Joshua company (Kazuya is quite reluctant at first but, eventually gives in and it becomes a family routine to sleep together from time to time)

On the less angsty side of this though, is that Kazuya and Joshua play baseball together and bond over their shared loved of collecting sneakers. Their love for sneakers got them to spend more time together; shopping for sneakers all over the world. Kazuya had already forgotten how fun it was to actually not think about anything and just enjoy being a sneaker head with his son.

Their favourite family trips would have to be either playing baseball or basktetball (Josie kinda pushed for it because it’s a well loved sport in the Philippines and Joshua likes it too) or going to beaches. They make sure to always visit the beaches in the Philippines so their kid could also spend some time with his grandparents.

Also, Kazuya buying every game console known to mankind and inviting the Rizal family over to Japan so the relative’s kids could play with Joshua. That or they bring everything to the Philippines and it somehow worked out with them renting a whole hotel because their stuff could not fit inside the Rizal family home.

When Kazuya’s defenses against Joshua eventually crumbled down, they decided to have another since Joshua was already 5 or 6 and Josie really wanted a new baby, especially a girl.

They had twins. Kazumi is older by 2 minutes to Alfonso (named after Josie’s grandfather). Josie gets to name their children because Kazuya isn’t good with them in a sense that he feels uncomfortable with it. Joshua only got the second name Junichirou because he’s going to inherit the Mishima Zaibatsu one day. He’s happy with the Filipino names though and there was a time where they thought using real Filipino names (because most are either Spanish or Ameircan names in the Philippines) but, they decided not to do so because family tradition. They both come from families where you hand down an old family name to the children or well, in Kazuya’s side the feminine or masculine version of the grandparent’s names.

Kazumi looks like Kazuya, hence she looks a lot like her grandmother Kazumi Mishima. The only thing she inherited from Josie is her wavy hair, almost morena skin colour and short stature (both Joshua and Kazumi are on the rather short side. 5′5/5′6 and 5′3 respectively) whilst Alfonso is a mixture both of his parents, Kazuya’s hair and eyes, Josie’s eyebrows and nose, Kazuya’s lips, Josie’s cheekbones, and out of all the siblings he has the lightest skin colour. Alfonso stands about 5′9 to 6′0.

When Kazumi and Alfonso were born that was the moment Kazuya felt like a real father whom was protective and would do anything for his family. Kazumi was like a precious little treasure to him and was pretty much at shock for the feelings of becoming a father to a daughter.

When the twins were born Kazuya started to really drill into Joshua about the family and inheritance. He trains both Joshua and Alfonso hard and when it comes to Kazumi, he doesn’t realize how soft he becomes until Kazumi herself points it out to him.

Out of all the siblings, Kazumi inherited Kazuya’s rather dark and stoic personality. Although, Alfonso has that scary unapproachable aura to him, people should be more afraid of Kazumi. She’s as cruel, unforgiving, and sadistic as her father(Josie eventually soothes it down from her). Joshua and Alfonso are the softy cry babies that are more like, Josie(They grow out of it unlike, Josie though. But, they have what we call Pusong Mamon-literal translation sponge cake heart, where you’re a cinnamonroll softy that cries even at the smallest saddest things and love helping people out like a saint-). And yes, they all inherited Kazuya’s sense of humor. Very dark.

All in all, the Rizal-Mishima family is a cute coping family that goes on routinely scheduled therapy. Except for Kazumi, nobody knows how she can keep herself normal with the nightmares. There is a small fear in Kazuya that she’d end up like her grandmother but, they all pray it won’t happen. But, it just so happens that there is a strong personality trait like that in the Hachijo clan that Kazumi inherited.

They’re all Roman Catholic btw, the kids and Josie. Kazuya doesn’t believe in religion but, Josie does and that influenced their children and made them accept their devil gene a little more easier in a sense that they could use the power for good. Alfonso has yet, to active his devil gene till he reaches somewhere around 20. Joshua activated his when 13 and Kazumi 5.

#frostbite883 #Tekken #Josie Rizal #Kazuya Mishima #Mishima Kazuya #Rizal Mishima Family AU #Jozuya #Josuya #Kazusie #Heihachi Mishima #Kazumi Mishima #Mishima Heihachi #Mishima Kazumi

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