#it's once and future king. i believe this is book two the queen of air and darkness in chpt 7

[tuttertime]

the once and future king by t.h. white • all the bells say

in an effort to please their cruel mother, the children of queen morgause set out to do what she and her huntsman could not: capture a unicorn. though ignorant and ill-equipped they find one, only for one brother to rashly kill it. one wanders off leaving the other three to behead the unicorn so they do, struggling, and deliver it to their mother. after dragging it back to the courtyard of the castle they wait for their mother to grant them attention. she pays them no mind.

x

[m-jelly]

The Prince's witch

Levi x fem!Reader

Royal AU, curvy reader, romance, falling in love, confident Reader, teasing, fluff.

Queen Kuchel and her husband the King are worried about their son. They believe Levi works way too hard and he keeps making himself sick. Levi needs to relax and learn to have some fun. So, the two of them hire you, a curvy and friendly witch to heal Levi and show him the meaning of fun. What they didn't expect was for him to be so attached to you.

Thank you @ladycheesington for this fun idea <3 I would love to turn this into a long fic.

Two beautiful royals stood before you with pleading looks in their eyes. Your heart went out to the two of them. They loved their son so much that they wanted him to get better and have some light in his life. They had tried everything to get him to relax and have fun, but he was so focused on being the best Prince and future King that he neglected himself.

Prince Levi was a strong and smart man. He gave everything he could to those around him to prevent the loss of life. Every second of every day he worked hard. No matter what was said to him he continued to push himself beyond what a human should be doing.

As a strong witch, you could enchant people and heal as well. To you, it made sense that they would request someone with your talents to help. You were a little embarrassed when you met them because your attire was a little on the revealing side. The dress you wore was low cut to show off your chest that was held up by a corset. A slit went up the side on your leg as a nice peek-a-boo.

You grinned politely at the royal couple to reassure them and hoped that you gave them confidence in your abilities to soothe their son. Their eyes widened when you floated up in the air and clasped your hands together. Excitement bubbled inside you at the thought of helping someone in need. You enjoyed a challenge and it seemed like the Prince might be.

Queen Kuchel led you down a grand hall as she told you all about her son. At first, you thought the Prince was someone young and this was a nanny thing. However, that was very wrong. When the Queen opened the study door you saw a handsome man in his mid to late 20s. He was so beautiful to you.

Kuchel released a long sigh. "Levi? Son? You know how your father and I have been very worried about you."

Levi ruffled his hair as he scribbled away. "I told you, I am fine. You have nothing to worry about." A gasp escaped him when his papers began to float up away from him. "Tch, shit, come back!" He jumped up to grab it. "Damn it!"

You hummed a little laugh causing Levi to glare at you. You gave him a playful wink and saw him slowly take you in. The glare he gave you slowly turned into a strong blush, his pupils dilated and a shiver ran right through him. He stopped jumping and just stood there and stared at you with a longing look in his eyes. Your aura, presence and looks instantly tamed the Prince. This had never happened to you before, so you were very interested in the Prince. Perhaps he was your soulmate.

You returned his papers to his desk and introduced yourself. You moved over to him and offered your hand. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm your witch. My job is to make sure you keep on top of your health and to also have a bit of fun."

Levi took your hand and kissed the back of your fingers with his soft warm lips. "The pleasure is all mine. When do you start?"

"Right away!" You glanced over at Kuchel. "Right, Your Majesty?"

Kuchel smiled brightly, which just lit up the room. "Yes! I'll leave you both alone."

You floated up and sat on Levi's desk. You made sure that your ass was right on his work. "So, what do you want to do? Do you want to read a book? Go on a walk? Take a long relaxing bath?" You leaned forward and pressed your breasts together. "How about a massage?"

Levi shivered. "I...I...I...uh..." For once in his life, Levi couldn't function or process any thoughts. You had truly captured him in a spell without the use of magic. "Boobs."

You blinked a few times before you started laughing at Levi's face going pink. "They are very nice, huh?" You reached towards him and grabbed his tie. With a gentle tug, you pulled Levi towards you. "Why are you so far away, hmm? It's okay to get close." You played with his tie a little. "You're so handsome."

"I...uh...um...th-thank you."

You took his hands and started massaging them. "So much tension in your hands." You pressed his hand on your chest above your breasts. "I need to work a lot on your body."

Levi whimpered a little as he became overwhelmed by your beauty and your warmth. "You...you do?"

You ran your hands up his chest as you read his aura. You cupped his face in your hands and hummed. "Yes, yes, you are rather unwell. I need to work hard on fixing your aura, mana and your body." You floated off the table and grabbed his hand. "Come."

Not a single thought went through his mind as you pulled him down the hallway. His eyes locked onto your ass as it moved with each step. He felt like he was drooling at the sight of you. Something was between the two of you, he could just sense it. There was this magnetic pull and he wanted to keep you close to him, always.

With your powerful magic, you filled his large pool bath with water and special fragrances that would help him out the best. Once completed you ushered him towards the water. After turning your back, Levi removed his clothes and walked down into the water. It didn't Levi very long to relax. He was almost out like a light.

Levi released a long moan as his body relaxed. "This...this is incredible."

You pulled your dress up and sat on the edge of the bath with your legs in the water. "My special healing magic."

Levi turned his head and gazed at your thighs. "Uh...umm." His eyes trailed up your legs to see your dress just about covered your underwear. He gulped hard before looking up at you. "Th-thank you."

You reached over and began massaging his shoulders. "Let me heal you. I have an incredible touch."

He shivered and moaned as your hands moved against his skin. "Mm."

You leaned closer. "I want to get to know every inch of your body, your highness." You pushed your fingers up into his hair and massaged his scalp. "What you crave, desire and need. I want to give you everything."

Over the weeks of you helping Levi, he had been glued to your side. Whenever he worked on something, he was always checking on you to see if you approved of what he was doing. If you told him to stop and take a break, he would do exactly as you asked. He hung on your every word. You captivated him.

When you shared afternoon tea together he would ask you countless things about your life and you. He was desperate to know every little thing about you. He wanted to know every possible thing about you. He wanted to know you better than anyone. In Levi's mind and eyes, you were his and he was going to make you his in more ways than one.

Levi adored your smile and laugh. Your body and dresses often caught his attention. The way your body curved and the dresses clung so perfectly to your form enticed him. Your mind was so cute and magical. Whenever he had to make a princely choice he often consulted you as if you were his wife. He would get you to help him as if you were married to him and carrying out the duties of a royal. You slipped into the role so well.

The royal palace adored you, but there were some in politics and the common public that didn't. Witches were not seen in the best of light and many wicked and evil rumours had been spread about you by spurned politicians. If you denied their affection, then they would tell others what a dirty woman you were and you had countless lovers, or you were using men for power.

You wanted a peaceful life as you helped those in need. Helping Levi relax a lot more was a dream job for you. Levi would often take you out into the lands to meet the people. You would use your magic to assist people along the way. It was moving to see how your magic brought joy and relief to those in need.

The thing you loved the most was spending time with the Prince. You cared deeply for Levi and he had won your heart rather quickly, but you didn't want to mix love with work. Levi also loved you more than anything in this world, but he hadn't told you yet because he wanted the moment to be perfect when he declared his undying love.

The two of you would go for nice long walks so Levi could clear his head and enjoy the beauty of nature, which is what you got a lot of your power from. As you walked together through the grand royal gardens you hugged his arm. A strong blush was on Levi's cheek because his arm was pressed between your breasts as you hugged it tightly.

You gazed at Levi and smiled sweetly at him. "Something on your mind?"

"Mm...many things."

You pouted in that cute way Levi loved. "You're supposed to be relaxing out here, not thinking about work."

He released a long sigh. "I am not thinking about work."

"Then what are you thinking about, Levi?"

He had asked you to use his name a few weeks back and every time you said it, it made him tingle all over. "I don't want to say."

You stopped walking and gripped his arm. "We have no secrets between us. What is on your mind?"

He groaned a moment. "I warned you." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them and speaking. "I am thinking about my arm and where it is right now and how warm you and your body is."

You looked down at your chest to see how tightly pressed you had his arm against you. "Oh, sorry." You released his arm. "I did not know it bothered you."

"It doesn't. I like it." He cleared his throat. "I like you." He took your hands in his. "I like you a lot. I've fallen for you and I can't imagine life without you."

Your cheeks burned at his declaration. "I...Levi...I'm...I'm just a witch. Someone like me shouldn't be with someone like you..."

"Says who?" He pulled you against him. "Tell me who they are and I'll break them."

"Levi..." You were in awe of this man. He was serious.

"I will not let anyone stop me from having you."

You cupped his handsome face and smiled. "You are so sweet."

He pouted a little. "I'd give up my title and power for you."

You giggled. "I don't think you would ever have to, Levi.!

He hugged you against him as he whined. "I know, but let me have this romantic moment."

You rubbed his back. "Okay, you win."

He squeezed you. "Thank you. Anyway, I would do anything for you, for us. I swear."

You pulled your head back to look him in the eyes. "I know. I believe you. I care for you so deeply. I just needed to warn you. Being a couple we would face a lot of opposition, but hearing how passionate you feel gives me hope." You nuzzled your nose against his. "I too adore you with all my heart and soul and want you to be mine until the end of time and beyond."

Levi tapped his forehead against yours. "You're the missing piece of my soul."

Levi planned his day out so it was perfectly balanced. He would work for the morning, have a lunch break and then work a little bit before having his whole afternoon and evening dedicated to loving you. Excitement coursed through him because he knew you would be so proud of him for designing his day so well. To keep Levi on track, you told him that you would reward him if he was good.

He hurried through the palace to find you waiting in his study with tea and snacks. A loving smile spread on his lips as he admired you in your low-cut dress with your hair up to show off your chest, shoulders and neck. He had so many desires and thoughts, but he behaved himself because he wanted a reward from you.

You raised your head from your book and smiled at your lover. "You seem excited about something."

"I am." With a sense of pride within him, he presented you with his diary for the day. "Here."

You took the book from him and inspected his schedule. "Wow Levi, I'm impressed. You're organising yourself without my input." You smirked a little as you felt the tingle and desire to tease him. "You may not need me anymore."

Levi dropped to his knees before you and grabbed your thighs tightly as he gave you a cute pleading look. "No, no, no. I need you. I'll always need you."

You hummed a little laugh. "I was teasing you." You ran your fingers through his soft raven hair. "You're so cute when you react."

He relaxed a little before resting the side of his head on your thighs. "So mean."

"I am."

He turned his head and pressed his face into your lap. "It is a good job I love you with all my heart and soul."

"And I love you too." You closed his diary. "I'm very proud of you, Levi. You're getting very healthy and your work-life balance is becoming very healthy."

He raised his head. "That's because you're my inspiration. I desire and demand time with you. I need your attention and praise."

"Well, you can have all my praise."

He lowered his head a little as the words danced on the tip of his tongue. "Reward." He raised his head and locked eyes with you. A determined fired burned within his gaze. "I desire a reward that you promised."

You held his chin between your fingers. "And what rewards do you desire?"

"Kiss." He was expecting a cute kiss on the cheek. "Please. On the cheek."

You hummed a laugh. "Well, you worked very hard so you deserve an extra special reward."

He waited for your warm lips against his cheek, but instead felt them against his lips. It took a moment for him to realise what was happening. His heart fluttered in his chest. He pressed into the kiss and returned it right back to you with all the love in his heart.

"Good boy." You released Levi and slipped out of your chair leaving him on his knees with pink cheeks and a look of awe in his eyes. "I will place your diary on your desk." You turned around and bumped right into Levi. "Levi! My goodness, you made me jump. You were so quick and quiet."

"Call me it again."

"Huh?"

He clenched his jaw. "Good. Boy."

You ran your hands up his chest. "Levi, you are a good boy. You're my good boy."

Levi grabbed your waist making you squeal. He roughly kissed you as he was driven by your words. Hearing you praise him set something off inside him. He craved your words, your voice, your body and your lips. He needed all of you to be his. His love for you knew no bounds. He forgot all about the list he had made for the day and spent most of his morning exploring your lips and body like he had done many times before, and each time was like tasting heaven.

[triptuckers]

Two Homes (part 3/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: nope Pairing:  Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary:  you’ve successfully escaped the ball room, but you run into someone you had been trying to avoid when you’re in the gardens Warnings: lil angst, mentions of gunshots and blood Word count:  2K A/N: hehe he is here !! finally lol enjoy reading! PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting @im-constantly-fangirling  @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15 @dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey (if your name is in bold it means I couldn’t tag you) add yourself to my tag lists here 

You can faintly hear the music in the ball room. But the closer you get to the gardens, the more you have to concentrate to be able to hear the music. You can’t help but to smile to yourself. You made it out of the ball room. 

All you had to do was wait until the ball was over and you would be on your way back to Ketterdam. Your father would probably be furious at you. But it was about time he learned he couldn’t continue to control your life.

As you’re walking through the gardens, the many different flowers take your breath away. You didn’t have a ball room like the one you just left in Ketterdam. You also certainly didn’t have a garden like this. 

You walk the paths, amazed by the plants around you. You had never seen something like this before. If King Nikolai would have invited you to this garden instead of a ball, you might have seriously considered accepting his invitation.

Time passes as you admire the extraordinary flowers surrounding you. The palace has long since vanished from your eyesight, and the sun is almost gone. You can see some stars in the sky already. 

Even though you didn’t want to come here, even though you spent the entire journey getting here wishing for Ketterdam, you couldn’t deny you’d be upset if you had missed out on the beautiful gardens. 

You wonder if the ball has already ended, and want to make your way back to the palace, when you see a silhouette in the distance. Did someone else escape the ball to go to the gardens? Or worse; did someone follow you when you leapt from the balcony?

Though you’re in the gardens near a palace and not in the streets of Ketterdam, you’re still on edge by a stranger’s presence. You stop walking and listen closely to their movements, ready to strike should they attack you. 

You watch from a distance as they walk closer. Hands behind their back, slowly walking through the garden. You notice the way their shoulders slump a little. Tired of the dancing maybe? Or trying to deceive you?

When they walk closer, and the last bit of sunshine falls on their face, you see blonde hair and a pair of hazel eyes.

A look of surprise finds its way onto his face when he spots you. 

‘Well, hello.’ he says, sounding genuinely surprised to see another person in the gardens. ‘I believe we haven’t met?’ 

You shake your head. ‘No, we haven’t.’ you say.

He looks up and down your dress, sending goosebumps along your bare arms. You couldn’t deny he was indeed as handsome as described in the stories. 

‘I’d say you fled the ball.’ he says. ‘I’m Nikolai, I don’t think you were introduced before the ball started.’

You notice how he introduces himself as Nikolai, and not as the king. 

‘I didn’t flee.’ you say. ‘And no, I wasn’t introduced.’ 

‘Oh, that wasn’t a question.’ says Nikolai. ‘Merely a statement. I’d remember a dress and a face like that.’ 

Your lips slightly part in surprise. ‘Do you flirt with every woman you meet tonight?’ you ask.

‘Do you flee from every ball you attend?’ he says without missing a beat, making you chuckle.

‘This is the first ball I’ve ever been to.’ you admit. 

‘Apparently it’s not a very good one, given that you left before it even started.’ he says.

‘It’s not about wether or not it’s a good ball.’ you say. ‘I just didn’t want to be in Ravka.’

‘But you are here.’ he points out.

‘Because my father basically dragged me here.’ you say, crossing your arms. 

‘Your father, is he a Kerch merchant? There was one who didn’t introduce his daughter because she wasn’t there. So, that would mean you’re Y/F/N /Y/L/N, right?’ says Nikolai.

‘You’re good.’ you say.

‘I’m good at a number of things.’ he says with a wink. 

‘Clearly.’ you say. 

Nikolai smiles and holds out his arm to you. ‘Do you want to go for a walk?’ he says.

You look at him extending his arm to you, smile on his lips and a twinkling in his eyes. You were dying to know why he had left the ball as well, and you actually didn’t mind the company. It made you curious and eager to find out if the stories you had heard about him are true.

So you nod with a smile, and lay a hand on his arm.

‘I’ll take you to my favorite spot in the gardens.’ he says, steering the two of you onto one of the paths.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ you say.

‘Of course.’ says Nikolai.

‘Why did you leave the ball?’ you say.

Nikolai looks at you and smiles. ‘Because even though I’m an excellent dancer, I also need breaks.’ he says. ‘I needed some fresh air.’

‘Are you really good at dancing or are you trying to impress me?’ you say.

‘Take your pick.’ he says.

For someone who didn’t want to be here and who had no intention of meeting the king, you found yourself starting to like him. He’s easy to talk to, and seems genuinely interested in you. And he’s not offended to find you in the gardens instead of the ball room.

‘Was it your idea to throw this ball to pick a bride?’ you say as you walk past a plant with particularly large orange flowers.

Nikolai sighs softly. ‘No.’ he says. ‘It was a decision made by Zoya and Genya, two of my triumvirate.’ 

‘Because they wanted you to marry?’ you say.

‘Because they wanted me to form an alliance and because I couldn’t establish one through politics, they thought I should try getting one through marriage.’ he says. 

You look at him, trying to read his face. ‘But you don’t want that.’ you say.

Nikolai looks at you and raises an eyebrow. ‘I personally don’t want to marry someone I don’t know for the sake of an alliance. But it’s what’s best for Ravka. And I like to put Ravka’s needs first.’ he says.

‘Spoken like a true king.’ you say. 

‘Well, I try to be a good one.’ he says as the two of you sit down on a bench.

‘From the stories I heard, you are.’ you say.

‘Really?’ says Nikolai. ‘Fancy telling me one of them?’

You laugh and shake your head. ‘I’m sure you’ve already heard them.’ you say.

‘What would it take for you to tell me one of those stories?’ says Nikolai.

You shrug. ‘A ticket to Ketterdam?’ you say.

He frowns. ‘You really want to go back that badly?’ he says.

‘No offence, but yes. I’ve been wanting to go back ever since the ship sailed away. Don’t take it personal, but I never had any intention of going to Os Alta in the first place.’ you say.

‘I understand.’ he says.

You look at him, confused. ‘You do?’

‘What, you think people haven’t made decisions for me my entire life?’ he says. ‘I know what it’s like not being able to make your own choices. I do appreciate you actually coming, though. You’re the first person I've talked to tonight who doesn’t throw themselves at me before I can even say hello.’ 

You laugh at his words. ‘Sorry for not throwing myself at you. Though I’m sure you’re used to it by now.’ you say.

Nikolai laughs as well. ‘Don’t apologise, it’s refreshing.’ he says.  

The two of you are silent as you look at the plants that surround you. It’s rather peaceful, being away from the buzzing ball room and just sitting on a bench to have a conversation.

‘Why is this your favourite part or the gardens?’ you ask him after a while.

In response, Nikolai points to a bush of bright yellow flowers. ‘Those are my favourites.’ he says. ‘Native to Novyi Zem, but Grisha can make sure they can grow here as well. They bloom for very short periods of time, mostly it’s just one week during summer. That’s why the Zemeni call them Summer’s Week. They’ve always been my favourite flowers. I always visit this spot during each summer, to see them bloom.’ he explains.

‘They’re beautiful.’ you say. ‘Such a shame we don’t have gardens like this in Ketterdam. I would have loved to spend more time here.’

‘I’d invite you to stay, but that would mean I'd have to propose and you made it very clear you want to go back to Ketterdam.’ says Nikolai. 

He gets up and walks over to the bush with the yellow flowers. You watch as he carefully picks one and walks back to you. He smiles as he hands it to you.

‘You can have one.’ he says. ‘If it still looks good when you get to Ketterdam, you can dry it, keep it between the pages of a book or something.’ he says.

You smile as you take the flower from him. ‘Thank you.’ you say. 

Nikolai looks back in the direction of the palace, though you can’t see it from here. 

‘I should go back.’ he says. ‘They’re probably wondering where I am, and I’d rather not have Zoya organise a search party.’

‘She’d do that?’ you say.

‘You have no idea what she’s capable of.’ says Nikolai, offering you his arm once more. You accept it and rise to your feet. 

As you start to walk back to the palace, Nikolai looks at you and smiles when he catches your eye.

‘This has been nice.’ he says.

‘The gardens?’ you say.

‘I can visit the gardens any time I like. No, talking with you. You allow me to be Nikolai. Everyone in that ball room only thinks of me as a king. They only think of themselves as future queens.’ he says.

‘But they are potential queens.’ you say. Nikolai looks at you and you remember his words. ‘Right.’ you say. ‘For Ravka.’

You see the palace appear in the distance, and by the looks of it the ball is still in full swing. You sigh softly, not looking forward to reuniting with your father and having him yell at you.

‘Well, here we are.’ says Nikolai, stopping in front of the palace. He motions to your left. ‘The doors are that way.’ he says. ‘And even though there are no gardens over there, we do have a lake which is also very nice.’ he says while motioning to your right.

You let go of his arm and frown. ‘You don’t want me to return to the ball?’ you say.

Nikolai merely shrugs. ‘Why would I? You don’t want to go there, and I’m not your king so technically, you don’t have to do anything I say.’ he says.

‘You really are an extraordinary king.’ you say, making him smile. ‘I see why your people love you so much.’ 

‘Hearing anyone say that means a lot to me.’ says Nikolai. He moves to stand in front of you. ‘Are you sure I can’t convince you to come and have one dance with me?’ he says.

You smile. ‘I think I’ll check out the lake.’ you say.

‘Alright then.’ says Nikolai, walking away toward the doors. ‘But watch out for the sea monster, though.’ he adds.

Your eyes widen. ‘You have a sea monster in your lake?’ you say.

But you never found out the answer. Before Nikolai can say anything, you hear a sound you know all tho well. How could you not recognise it after living in Ketterdam for years? 

Gunshots. Two of them. 

You watch as Nikolai falls to the floor, blood soaking his shoulder and stomach.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[walkerismychoice]

Queen of My Heart - Chapter 36

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia

Rating: NSFW (I didn’t intend it but it just happened

Summary: Liam finally clears the air with Constantine, and we go to the Fire and Ice Ball at Lythikos, the final social season even before Liam chooses his future Queen.

A/N: Umm, I don’t even want to know how many years it’s been since I updated, but it is with the encouragement of you readers that I was compelled to finish.  My tag list is probably way outdated and I’m sure I’ve missed some poeple who’ve asked to be tagged along the way. Feel free to let me know either way if you want to be tagged or removed from the list.

Tag List: @khakie4 @dreadpirateemma @ritachacha @blackcoffee85 @choices-fanatic @boneandfur @butindeed @simplyaiden-blog @bobasheebaby @traeumerinsworld @theroyalweisme @umccall71 @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @enmchoices @jadedpixiescribbles @withice @viktoriapetit @mfackenthal @drakesfiance @drakelover78 @speedyoperarascalparty @silviasutton1989 @krisnicjack @devineinterventions2 @choiceswreckedme @notoriouscs @blackcatkita @hamalu @akrenich @drakewalkerfantasy @jamielea81 @andy-loves-corgis @jlouise88 @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @i-miss-trr @dragonball-luver @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14

Word Count: 2861

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

“Hello, Father.” Liam greeted Constantine as he walked into the hospital room. He noted the King's color was back to normal and he seemed in good spirits.

"My son, I knew you'd come!" Constantine reached towards Liam with arms outstretched.

Liam just shook his head and held up a hand to stop him. "This is not that kind of visit. I'm here because I know... I know everything."

"What-" Constantine choked out before a coughing fit ensued.

Liam fought the instinctual urge to comfort his father. "Enough with the theatrics. I know about Madeleine...about you threatening the show if they didn't help her win...as if me choosing the woman I plan to spend my life with is some political game to be won."

 "How did you find out? I gave strict orders that my demands were confidential."

Liam scoffed. "Seriously? I just told you I found out you tried to have the producers manipulate me into marrying a woman I don't love, and that's all you had to say for yourself?"

"You have to understand," Constantine pleaded. "Madeleine is what's best for Cordonia, and what's best for Cordonia is what's best for you."

"Unbelievable!" Liam felt the anger rising in his chest like a simmering pot ready to boil over. "You may have told yourself that to feel better about choosing your commitments to Cordonia over happiness, love, family... Maybe you’ve lied to yourself for so long you’ve actually started to believe it, but it's one hundred percent bullshit. I know I'll be a more effective leader if I get to choose the woman I want by my side, and that woman is Olivia."

Constantine's jaw dropped and there was a long pause before he gained his composure to protest. "Absolutely not. You know her family's history. I'd rather have you on the same page as me, but I am still King-"

"Save your breath," Liam shut him down. "You should know that your perfect candidate Madeleine has displayed some behavior quite unbecoming of a future queen, and it is all on film. I know Cordonians are generally flexible with their views on monogamy, but I don't think Madeleine sleeping with the host of the show while she's trying to compete for my affection will look good in anyone's eyes. She has been eliminated from the show and is no longer in the running. That leaves only Riley aside from Olivia, and I know you know what's going on there."

Constantine's face fell momentarily in resignation, but then he perked back up again. "Well, then you can bring back someone else. Kiara is quite lovely and is fit to play the part."

"Enough!" Liam practically shouted much too loud for the thin hospital walls. "Not that I owe you an explanation, but Olivia is stronger, smarter, and more capable of ruling a country than anyone you could hope to pair with me. You seem to forget that I am the son who stuck by you and am now the rightful and only heir to the throne. Your reign is coming to an end, and you have no choice but to accept my decision."

Unexpectedly, Constantine's demeanor changed, a sly grin creeping across his face. "My boy, I've always been a bit worried you were too soft to be king. However, seeing you stand up for yourself today gives me hope. I still don't approve of your choice, but I will no longer stand in your way."

Liam shook his head and let out an incredulous laugh, reeling from Constantine’s sudden change of course. "Bastien will take you back to the palace. We can talk more when I know it's not just the medicine that's gotten to your head."

-----

“Well, this place certainly explains a lot about Olivia.” Riley mused aloud as she scanned the ballroom. Ornate floor to ceiling windows with deep alcoves were surrounded by walls with intricate, gilded accents leading up to a hand-painted ceiling measuring at least 3 stories high. The grandeur of the space was both intimidating and beautiful at the same time, much like its owner.

“Has she shown you all the toys in her armory yet? That too says a lot about Olivia," Drake chuckled at his own joke.

Riley laughed along. “No, but she does constantly remind me she keeps a dagger hidden under her skirt. Are you sure Liam knows what he’s in for?”

"Heh. Better him than me, that's for sure. Liam's warm and fuzzy exterior can make him seem like a pushover, but he can hold his own when it matters. Olivia needs someone who can roll with her mood swings but still call her on her bullshit when needed."

"You know, I admit I had a little trouble wrapping my brain around Liam choosing Olivia, but when you put it that way, it makes sense. Now I suppose I need to find Kat so I can figure out if I need to dance with Liam or something. Ugh, I cannot wait until all these balls are over.

Drake almost doubled over laughing. "Oh, Bennett, I hate to break it to you, but this shit never ends. Next will be the coronation, then some charity gala, Liam's wedding...the list goes on. Welcome to your life as a noble woman."

Riley stared ahead blankly as a giant wave of realization washed over her. It was all so much, so fast. She'd never had time to think past the next day to consider this was all ending soon, and then what? Did she stay with her new-found family and live this life that was still foreign to her in so many ways? What about her life in New York? Sure, she didn't have much going on at the moment, but she still had her aunt Susan and best friend Sarah along with some good friends at work like Daniel. Becoming a therapist was still one of her goals, at least it was until the day she left for Cordonia. Now everything was so unclear, and she could hardly breathe.

Drake must have noticed her face looking some kind of way because he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to an open doorway to a nearby balcony. "Why don't we get you some air before you go off and do your thing for the show?"

Once outside and around the corner of the wraparound balcony, Drake pulled Riley into his chest, holding her securely, and she was almost instantly calmed. All the what-ifs fell away, and it was just them. All she needed was the be with him, wherever that turned out to be, and everything else would fall into place.

But what if Drake didn't quite feel the same? They'd been talking as if they'd be together indefinitely, but in reality, they'd only known each other two months. The anxious fluttering in her chest started up again.

Drake pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You know, we're both still half American. We can move back to the states....or uh, I mean you can move back to the states if that's what you want." His eyes darted bashfully to the ground.

Riley's face lit up, the nervous thumping in her chest giving way to excited butterflies. "I like the sound of 'we' better if that's what you really meant. You'd really move back to the U.S. with me? I mean I've hardly had the chance to think about what I want, so that may be irrelevant, but you seriously see a future with me?"

"I do." Drake smiled earnestly. "I'm sure anyone who knows me will think I've gone mad, but whether it means being in New York City and putting up with cramped apartments and way too many people, living a quieter, simple life in Texas, or stealing moments away at dreadful Cordonian events such as this, I know we can make our own happiness...together."

"Wow, the Drake Walker I met two months ago would not believe what's coming out of your mouth right now." Riley touched the back of her hand to Drake's forehead in jest. "Are you sure you aren't running a fever?"

"Haha, very funny." Drake swiftly but gently pushed Riley back again the stone wall. "I'm not feeling ill, but I know how to make your temperature rise.

"You pushing me against duchy walls is becoming a thing, huh? Must have really enjoyed the almost public sex last time."

"Possibly," Drake teased as he slipped his hand through the side-slit in her icy-blue gown, gently gliding his fingers up her thigh. Riley braced herself as Drake neared the place she wanted him the most. Goosebumps gave way to a burning need before she remembered where they were.

"Wait." She pushed a hand against his chest. "We're not exactly alone here, and we've gone to such lengths to keep this under wraps. Someone could walk out here at any moment."

Drake shrugged. "I know it may be a bit reckless, but honestly at this point, I don't care. I just want you."

Riley opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out before Drake swooped in for a searing kiss. She instantly melted into him, Drake continuing his earlier action and deftly plunging two fingers inside her, his eyes widening slightly in surprise when he noticed there was no fabric barrier to work around. A strangled moan escaped Riley's throat as he stroked the exact spot he knew always left her at his mercy.

Drake pulled back with a satisfied grin. "Do you want me to stop? Just say the word and we'll go back in right now."

Instead of answering, Riley yanked him by the collar and crushed her lips to his. Drake responded by hoisting her up and over to the balcony. He perched her atop the railing, one hand grasped firmly around her waist and the other making quick work of undoing his pants.

Teetering on the narrow ledge two stories high, Riley clamped her hand tightly to the railing on either side of her and Drake noticed. "I've got you Bennett, no need to worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm just doing my job after all," he said with a smirk.

She smiled at his reference to what was now an inside joke between them. But all joking aside, he always made her feel safe. She released her grip, flinging her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

Drake eased his cock free and Riley could tell how hard he was just by sight, the skin stretched taught from his perfect proportion of thickness and length. He lifted her dress and she couldn't wait any longer. She pulled him in and he took the invitation to thrust inside her. Even as wet was she was, his size created just the right amount of fullness and friction to take her breath away.

Riley moaned and gasped with each thrust, which in turn seemed to turn Drake on even more. The thrill of being up so high with nothing but him to hold her only added to her excitement and when he began rubbing circles over her clit with his thumb that was all it took to push her figuratively over the edge. She tightened around him everywhere, her orgasm eliciting immense heat and pleasure with every pulse, resulting in Drake picking up his pace until his own release followed shortly thereafter.

Drake carefully set Riley down before putting himself back together. "I'm almost a little disappointed we didn't nearly get caught this time."

"If I don't get back in there immediately, that's still a possibility." Riley had no idea how much time had passed but it was probably more than she thought. "Fuck, Kat is going to be pissed." Riley straightened her skirt and started towards the ballroom door.

"Wait!" Drake puller her in for a quick kiss. "I love you. Just so you don't forget."

Riley rolled her eyes but smiled. "You know you have nothing to worry about. If Liam's charms haven't wooed me yet, I think you’re safe. But I love you too. Now go do your job." She smacked him on the ass before hustling back to the ballroom, Drake following shortly thereafter.

As expected, Kat was frantic when Riley found her. “Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to meet up with me twenty minutes ago?”

Overhearing Riley’s scolding, Olivia smugly sidled up next to them. “I mean, I didn’t mind getting extra time with Liam, but you know Jo and Kat and there ‘ratings’, Olivia said while gesturing with air quotes. She scanned Riley from head to toe and then glanced over to Drake on the perimeter. “Ugh, I can tell you exactly what, or rather who she was doing. Gross. I guess that just makes my position more secure, but really, couldn’t you have waited until after my ball to fuck him?”

Riley sheepishly smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I was having a moment.”

Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it. Although I still cannot fathom why you chose Drake, I suppose I should be a little easier on you for eliminating yourself from the competition and allowing Liam to break free of his distraction of the shiny new object.”

“Aww, Olivia, that’s so sweet. Next thing you know we’ll be best friends,” Riley replied sarcastically.

 “I don’t know about friends...but I do dislike you less than the rest of them.” Olivia tried and failed to hold back a smile.

“I’ll take it,” Riley said with a laugh before turning to Jo. “Okay, now tell me where I need to be.”

Jo set Riley up with Liam on the dance floor. It still wasn’t hard to pretend to be into Liam because it wasn’t all pretend, but there was no lingering pining between them.

“Well, I spoke to my father this morning.” Liam spun Riley around and brought her back to face him.

“Finally!” Riley exclaimed. “How did that go?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it to be completely honest, but it went surprisingly well. I told him I knew everything, and he no longer had a say in my decision. He tried to argue with me at first, but somehow something I said made him respect me. He still may not agree with my choice, but I think this is finally all over! I am free to choose who I want without any threat or blackmail hanging over my head.

Riley pulled Liam in and hugged him tightly. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, and for all of us.” The weight on Riley’s shoulders was suddenly ten times lighter. She hadn’t let herself think too deeply about how much was at stake, but now that the air was clear, she realized how stressed she had been. “Now all that’s left is for you to tear my heart to pieces on national television, and you get your fairy tale ending.”

Liam chuckled. “I’ll try to let you down easy.”

-----

Drake stood in his usual position off the side of the dance floor. This may not be the last of these events he’d have to endure, but at least it should be the last time he’d have to stand on the sidelines watching Riley dance with someone else. He was secure in what they had, but it still didn’t stop that twinge of jealously seeing her and Liam together talking, touching, and having fun. But it wasn’t a bad thing that his best friend and girlfriend get along so well. Girlfriend...that’s the first time he’d used that term for anyone he’d “dated”, even if only in his head. It was hard to believe everything was falling into place.

Drake took his eyes off Riley to scan the perimeter. What he saw didn’t immediately register as out of the ordinary, but then he quickly recalled this person walking towards the dance floor wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Bastien, check out three o’clock.” Drake altered Bastien via his radio earpiece. “How did she get in here without security clearance?”

“I don’t know.” Bastien replied. “I’ll check with the other guys to see who let her in. Keep an eye on her.”

Drake watched in concern as Madeleine marched towards the dance floor. She’d been banned from the rest of filmed events after her stunt. Not wanting to let her cause a scene, Drake was about to stop her from getting any closer, when she pulled out an unmistakable object. She had a gun and it was pointed right at Riley and Liam.

Before Drake could alert the rest of the team, people started to scatter. He heard a familiar click and knew he had to disarm Madeleine immediately, but it was too late. A shot went off and he didn’t hesitate. Drake dove between the bullet and his two best friends on the dance floor, and that would be the last thing he remembered before he hit the floor.

[queenlilith43]

Alrighty so here is my stupid, stupid theory about the Wicked Powers and the Eldest Curses.

I'm adding a keep reading option because everyone will thank me for this later. And it contains serious Eldest Curses and Last Hours spoilers. (YES. I will drag Chain of Iron into here because I want to.)

So I want to talk about what I think the antagonists in the Wicked Powers and what will happen because of it. And how the antagonists will show up.

So who do I think the antagonists are? Whelp, here's the list:

Thule people

Faerie court drama

The Cohort

Lucifer + other permanent threats

I'm going to explain the antagonists and what I think will happen. I will explain how much of a problem I think they will be.

Thule

Well, Janus is going to be in there. He had established himself as a villian from Ghosts of the Shadow Market. He's what Jace could have been if he had stayed under Sebastian's power. That is to say, a very evil Jace.

Janus had been tasked by the Seelie Queen at the end of Queen of Air and Darkness to find actual Jace Herondale. Do we want Jace kidnapped? NO. Will this cause problems? YES.

Thule as a world is a problem. Part of it leaked into our world in QOAAD, causing the warlocks to start to turn into demons. (Including a very cute purple poodle that was Malcolm Fade.)

Shadowhunters can't use their weapons and runes in this world. I wonder if it was able to influence the Shadowhunters in this world enough to stop that.

And Sebastian is still alive in Thule. We know how much of a problem he is. If he ends up in our world . . . We should be worried.

I think Thule can be a problem. It might be a huge problem. It all depends on how easily the main characters can deal with Janus.

I personally want then to deal with Janus and Thule by just yeeting him into a Portal. I can imagine Kit doing that and then dusting off his hands.

If someone can get rid of Thule easily, things will be fine. If Thule isn't dealt with early on . . . Everyone is screwed.

Faeries

We have met the First Heir of the courts. Also known as Kit Herondale. We also have the Seelie Queen, who is very evil, ruling over the Seelie Court. Along with that, Kieran is ruling the Unseelie Court.

And as we know, the Seelie Queen made Janus try and find Jace. So she ties into the Thule plot.

I feel like there is going to be some major faerie drama. Kit is going to have to fight to unite the courts, whether he wants to or not. It is his destiny to do this.

The faeries wouldn't accept Kit as their king, because he's mainly a Shadowhunter. (As we know, Shadowhunter blood breeds true.) I am hoping Kieran emerges as the king of the new courts and is able to have a good life with Cristina and Mark.

Kit is going to have face his faerie side and the powers that come with it. I'm going to love seeing his character develop through all this.

The faerie court drama is going to be in there, and part of Kit's character arc. It is needed, and if Kit and Kieran get rid of the Seelie Queen fast we might not even have to THINK about dealing with Thule.

However, this plot will need at least two books to resolve itself. That means Thule and the faeries will be involved. I'm going to touch on Thule at the very end again.

The Cohort

Ugh, I hate these guys. Especially Zara, who is the one person everyone in the fandom wants dead.

Considering what the Cohort represents and everything that had happened, they are going to reach new heights of evil. That was already in the playing cards, but I just KNOW they'll be worse than we thought they were going to be.

And the Cohort is trying to hurt the Downworlders. Alec is over there, trying to help them, but the Cohort loathes him for that.

I really don't know how important they will be. But when I talk about what I believe a main plot will be, and how Shadowhunter-Downworlder relations factor into it.

Lucifer

This one is where the Eldest Curses ties into the Wicked Powers. And this is what I think is going to be the main antagonist after a certain point.

Before you question me on this, hear me out.

The Shadowhunters have always known they will face an end to the world. It's been an idea since the very first book, City of Bones.

Jace talked about how there were more demons coming in every year, and less Shadowhunters to fight them. This was in the FIRST BOOK. And of course we had bigger fish to fry, but it's an idea that stuck with me.

I feel like even in the Infernal Devices series everyone knew there would be a demon threat so great the world could end. It wasn't as obvious, because Mortmain wasn't an antagonist that posed a large problem. His clockwork monsters were easy to defeat, and it was in Britain, which is technically an island. So they couldn't go they far unless they hopped on a boat and sailed around the world. Along with Mortmain just being a mundane.

In the Last Hours, the idea of a demon threat that could end the world is even more real. In Chain of Gold, we had to deal with demons that attacked in broad daylight, something that had never happened before.

And there was Belial, who might be planning something that messes with their weapons. (Although he won't get far. He's a terrible, even laughable villian who is being set up like this for future reasons.)

Now we have Lilith, who is a danger to this world. With Cordelia as a paladin, Lilith could have enough power to mess with the world. It's more real, but with this being a prequel, we know things will be fine.

Back to the main series, the Mortal Instruments. In the latter half of the series, Lilith shows up, and mentions her past. And this includes Sammael.

Sammael is a Prince of Hell. He poses a threat to the world. He is the one who weakened the wards in the first place with Lilith to let the demons in.

Thankfully, Simon turns Lilith into salt. We don't have to deal with her, but the threat and the demons she knows remind us how fragile this world is.

After Lilith, we have Sebastian. His demons blood makes him unstable, and he created this army of Endarkened Shadowhunters. But was his existence a threat to the fabric of the universe itself? Not really.

It could think our world, but not in the way an actual demon could. He is powerful, but Sebastian loves in pain. The demon blood in his veins weighs him down, and he has weaknesses. Clary defeated him once, and she can deal with Thule Sebastian later.

The Dark Artifices introduced the concept of the world ending. Not with Malcolm, but with Thule. Thule was a real Hell dimension, a place where the demons have taken over. A ruined world, and one where Sebastian rules over the land with an iron fist.

The only way Sebastian was able to rule over Thule was because Lilith showed up at just the right time. And strangely enough, it was shortly after she was lost from our world. Coincidence? Well, it could be, but knowing these books, it probably isn't.

In the Eldest Curses, this idea was introduced just a little on the first book. Asmodeus was there. It was a flash of it, but it seemed like the demon threat was mentioned.

The second book mentioned that idea again, with Sammael showing up. That's right. Sammael, the Once and Future Devourer of Worlds.

He really seemed to show the threat of demons. The way that no matter how hard the Shadowhunters would fight, the demons would win in the end. It said in that book Sammael would destroy the worlds in the end, no matter what.

And oh my god the epilogue. He had all the Princes of Hell in a room. And now, they are going to summon Lucifer.

Why do I think Lucifer will be outside the Eldest Curses? Because he is important.

In the folklore (my inner Swiftie is showing) Lucifer is the angel who started the rebellion in Heaven. He looked into the face of God, and turned away into the darkness. He is a force to be reckoned with.

But what happened to him? We haven't even heard of him in the Shadowhunters universe until Chain of Gold, where he was confirmed as a Prince of Hell. At first, I thought Sammael was Lucifer, because that is one of his names.

But they're two different demons. And one is more powerful.

Because Lucifer hasn't even been mentioned before, I think his sudden existence is going to be in the Wicked Powers, along with the rest of the Princes of Hell.

Belial is being set up as this whiny, sexist demon to make the other Prince of Hell so much WORSE.

The Wicked Powers is supposed to be a threat that the Shadowhunters have never faced before. And the LITERAL DEVIL? Yeah, they've never dealt with a force like him before.

But the only way the Shadowhunters can defeat the demons once and for all is by teaming up with the Downworlders. It's been hinted at. When the Shadowhunters and Downworlders work together, they are able to fight the demons off.

This is where Clary's Alliance rune comes in. Her rune, binding the Downworlders and the remaining Shadowhunters together, and they will fight.

The Cohort is going to hate this. But it's the only way to deal with Thule (which I'm going to talk about in another post) and Lucifer is with the Downworlders.

And Magnus if ping to be important. Every time Magnus is there, the Shadowhunters win.

But one my other theories is that Magnus dies. Because this is the end, and Magnus is in every single book. So for him to die, it would mark the very end.

So I guess Magnus would fight bravely in the battle and then die, to make an end to these books.

Any thoughts on this? Please reblog!

[astradrifting]

Hiya anon, I’m answering this message over here to keep my blogs tidy! Thanks for the ask!

Oof, honestly I don’t have many concrete theories for ADOS other than what I speculated about Aegon’s death, it’s obviously so dependent on what happens in Winds that it’s all up in the air right now. I’m thinking Winds will almost definitely feature them reuniting and falling in angsty forbidden love amidst the backdrop of very messy Northern politics and an impending ice threat, with R+L=J being revealed by the end of it or early ADOS at the latest, for maximum pre-reveal incest angst.

I do think the show gave us a very, very, very rough idea of what happens, in that Jon will spend most of ADOS in the South while Sansa remains at Winterfell, in charge of the North. GoT managed to make Jon’s parentage a central part of the plot while completely sidestepping any of its actual implications or consequences, but I suspect that a big part of Jon’s ADOS plot will be reckoning with the secret and it’s reveal. Any resolution reached to the Northern politics in TWOW that involves Jon will be thrown into chaos with the reveal, so I could see a marriage between Jon and Sansa being proposed in order to tie Jon to the North and the Starks in the eyes of the lords before he goes South.

The secret being revealed also makes Jon being the only one who can go South make sense. The show’s “Only a king can treat with a queen” reasoning doesn’t hold up under scrutiny, since Jon being imprisoned on Dragonstone makes it clear that sending an emissary would have been smarter. Book!Jon and Aegon are both smarter than that, but “he is my long-lost brother and there is a lot of blood and history surrounding our births and our father’s choices that we need to reckon with” is a much more compelling argument for why the two of them might want to meet personally. Just in terms of narrative as well, why introduce a potential long-lost brother and then not have them ever meet?

Of course a lot of this also depends on what happens with the Others, since Jon’s story has been so tied with them from the beginning that it’d feel hollow if he didn’t have some involvement in how that is resolved, but that plotline is so inscrutable to me that I can’t even begin to theorise what happens there. I’ve got a tentative ‘Bran???’ mentally sharpied over a picture of the Others and that’s as far as my theories go :P

I don’t have a very clear idea on what Sansa’s plot will be while they’re separated other than that it will feature her growing into her rulership of the North. The show might have been accurate in that Arya arrives at Winterfell after Jon has left, and the sisters come into some sort of conflict over their past, their separation, and who they each had to become to survive. It’d serve as a nice way for Jon and Sansa’s stories to parallel again too - both of them having to (re)learn how to deal with a sibling that they barely know, who they don’t quite understand but desperately want to. But the sisters will resolve their differences and be stronger for it, possibly coming together to slay Littlefinger for his crimes against their father. Though I’m also in favour of Sansa taking care of him herself somehow, she has more foreshadowing for that specifically, and Arya has different deaths in her future.

Throughout this whole separation, I fully expect Jon and Sansa both to be heavily missing each other and wishing they were home together at Winterfell, annoying everyone around them by constantly going “I wish Jon/Sansa were here.” 😉 The show already explicitly showed Sansa missing Jon, so imagine how much more pining we’ll get when we can read her thoughts!

Sansa will also probably have a major part to play in the aftermath of Dany’s death. There’s a crazy amount of parallels between Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, who were instrumental in getting Corlys Velaryon freed after the poisoning of Aegon II, and Arya and Sansa, so it seems that, unlike in the show, they’ll be successful in getting Jon released following her murder.

That then totally leaves him free to be with Queen Sansa, hopefully as King in the North but I’d totally accept Prince Consort. I’m also a big believer in the Jon the Builder ending, pioneered (imo) by @istumpysk and @agentrouka-blog, in which he plays a big part in resettling the Gift with new lords.

His lord father had once talked about raising new lords and settling them in the abandoned holdfasts as a shield against wildlings. […] “It is a dream for spring, though,” Lord Eddard had said. “Even the promise of land will not lure men north with a winter coming on.”

If winter had come and gone more quickly and spring had followed in its turn, I might have been chosen to hold one of these towers in my father’s name. Lord Eddard was dead, however, his brother Benjen lost; the shield they dreamt together would never be forged.

(Jon V, ASOS)

To me, that last line reads like Sansa’s thoughts about seeing Jon again, how the thought is sweet but “of course, that could never be”. We know that that line exists solely to be subverted, because they are going to meet again. The same with this one; Lord Eddard and Benjen are gone, but their nephew-son still lives, and he can carry on their dream. It’d be a nice way of allowing Jon to keep some of his vows too - to still be the “shield that guards the realms of men” even after he has left the Watch (guarding from what, at the end of the series, I’m admittedly not sure *points to picture of the Others with ‘Bran????’ written in red sharpie and underlined*). I mean, you can’t just reference the title of the last book, the culmination of your epic fantasy series, in a throwaway line from Jon’s memory without it having some kind of payoff, George. Especially when it’s literally the only time the phrase occurs within the series. Nearly word for word, at least. There’s some “dream of spring” imagery that appears elsewhere that is pretty interesting... But that’ll be in a separate post because this is getting long enough!

So, uh, it turns out I actually do have a lot of thoughts on how ADOS will go! Basically, Jonsa ever after, the wolves coming again through their many adorable trueborn babies :) It won’t be plain sailing, they will face even more grief and pain before the end. But also the possibility of a happy ending, a dream of spring even in the depths of winter.

[kashimos-hajime]

buried in your bones | b.b.

summary: “Promise you’ll love me always.”

WARNINGS: fluff, angst, blood, violence, swearing, drinking, magic and therefore magic haters pairing: king!bucky x queen!reader word count: 11.1k

a/n: inspired by hurricane by fleurie. i recommend listening to it for proper vibes :) written for @serpienten​​​​ and @buckysknifecollection​​​​. i had the prompt king/queen au and a dialogue prompt that is bolded. sorry this took so long! am still working through some killer writer’s block :( but enjoy!

James can taste nothing but blood in his mouth as he plunges his sword through chainmail. His ears are ringing from the sound of metal singing with every slice, every clash of his sword against his opponents and his foot catches on a dead knight’s arm as he whirls around.

All around him, dirt is flying and there is the smell of smoke as he twirls out of the way of a horse with no rider. Sweat dripping through his armour, he spots a soldier pinned down and charges, running the attacker through his sword and kicking him off the tip.

The smell of shit fills his mouth as he sucks in a wet gasp, helping the soldier get up. Clapping his shoulder, James can barely hear himself over the clamour of battle raging around him.

“Are we winning?” Steve asks harshly, shrugging off his king’s hand, and James feels cold ice spear up his limb at the bitter glare his knight commander pins him down with. Steve has lost his helmet, his golden hair dark with mud and blood but his eyes burn bright. “Is this worth it for you?”

“Volley!”

The word pierces through the haze and the two men collapse to their knees, ducking their heads as arrows stab into the dirt around them, the inflamed tips snuffing out as soon as they sink into wet mud.

“I want nothing more than to retreat, but they attacked first,” is his reply. He knows it’s pathetic.

He knows he’s at war because his people crave what they think is justice, because his people hate what they don’t understand.

He had been the same once.

Straightening, James jerks back as a sword tries to cleave him in two, and Steve is lost to him in the furious chaos of battle. Parrying another blow, he shoves his shoulder into his opponent’s gut and knocks him off his feet, dark hair flying into his face as he shoves the metal through the man’s stomach. The strangled scream echoes in his ears as he pulls it out with a wet schluck.

Stumbling back, James looks up to see more of his men clad in their refined red and gold armour storming down the hill, and he whips around, watching as more soldiers in gold and white fall. He can barely discern who is on his side, who is on Asgard’s.

“Well, if it isn’t the King of Kings!”

The voice, even to this day, harsh and rich with arrogance that only comes from believing their purpose is righteous, causes a fire in James to ignite.

Turning around slowly, he sees the gleaming dark armour, the stained black leather, the stench of death following his wake. Lord Rumlow scrapes the blood off one short sword with the other and James swears he can see someone’s brains along his knuckles drenched in blood as he raises his own sword.

“Rumlow.”

“How are you, m’lord?” he drawls, that knifepoint smirk digging into his cheeks as he raises one of his swords, the tip pointing for James’ eyes. Scarlet drips from the edge and James swallows the knot in his throat. He has no illusions that if given the chance, the man will stab him through the throat slowly, sinking that blade through his flesh as he watched the light die from James’ eyes and relish in it, but he is a dog.

A dog with a master.

“Where is she?” James asks, the words tearing out of his throat as he sweeps his gaze through the dying battle. The ground is littered with the fallen and he can taste death on his tongue—bitter and cold and vile. “Where is she?”

Lord Rumlow merely laughs, harsh and sharp and poisonous. He circles James like a predator circles cornered prey, slowly making his way within sword range, and James watches those dark eyes narrow in bloody glee. “As if she’d come here for you.”

“I know she is.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice. It’s dark with fury as Lord Rumlow merely cocks his head, intrigued. “I saw her on the rise.” Hair sticks to his skin and his heart is nothing more than threads barely holding together. “Please, we can end this—”

“You still love her.” It is nothing but cold, brutal truth and James flinches as soon as he hears it. It exhausts him to hear those words, to know that someone like Lord Rumlow knows what he had refused to believe, to know that he’d been the fool for years.

Lord Rumlow lunges forward, bringing his short sword down upon James’ shoulder. Blocking the blow, the king falls onto his back. Metal sings in his bones as their swords drag against each other.

James manages to drive the sword into the dirt, his lungs heaving for air as he jerks his head away from the tip. A wild glint falls into the dog’s eyes as his lips curl into a vicious snarl as James tries to throw the man off. His skin is slick with mud and blood and sweat, and James can feel the heat kiss him at all sides. It’s suffocating in his armour, clouds of hot air gathering in his back, under his arms, on his face.

Brock wrenches his bassinet off and James barely has time to prepare himself for the punch before it hits. His head snaps back into the mud, nose blooming in pain as his eyes squeeze shut to prepare for another strike, but hands merely wrap around his throat.

“How dare you claim to love her? How dare you say that after what you’ve done? You’re not even fit to say her name!”

Fingers dig deeper into his throat and James gasps for air, blood slipping down his cheeks from his nostrils. Mouth gaping, he wraps his hands around Lord Rumlow’s sleeves. The cacophony falls away, the sound of everything fading as James forces his eyes open, staring into the pits of his strangler’s eyes, and his feet kick, slip through mud.

“You. It was always you,” Rumlow murmurs. “Even after all these years, she chose you time and time again with nothing to show for it. She should’ve killed you when she had the chance.”

“What did you just say to me?” James chokes out and Rumlow laughs, sharp and his teeth are bared in a sadistic grin. 

“You’re in no position to threaten me, m’lord.”

“No, what— what do you mean?” Another fist to the cheek, James’ world spins as his head jerks sideways. He can hear his blood gurgling in his head, in his throat, as he digs his fingers deeper into Rumlow’s gloved hands.

“All these years and you still don’t know.”

Unworthy. Unworthy. Unworthy, Rumlow’s voice chants in James’ head.

It is all he can hear.

Black dots impede his vision as the strength drains from his body.

“She never trusted you. She could never trust you. And how could she? Your family ruined her life!”

What?

“Please, don’t—” That voice from so long ago, scratched and aching with its plea for mercy, echoes in his ears and his eyes flutter shut.

“And why would she? You won’t even fight for her honour,” Rumlow derides, a cruel laugh mutilating his words. “You don’t deserve her love. You deserve nothing!”

There’s a snap.

“Get off of him!” a voice snaps, dark with power, and the weight lifts from his chest, but it is too late.

James doesn’t recall falling into the abyss, but he knows he falls when everything goes silent.

.

“Prince James, let me introduce my daughter.”

That is how it starts, when he is nothing more than thirteen, reading in the garden’s hedge maze. The sun is golden, the wind smells like sugar and sweet fruits, and the sky is bluer than sapphires as he closes his book and looks up at the approaching man.

When he thinks on it years later, he thinks it is just as how all the fairytales, all fables, start.

He recognizes the man—a diplomat, lord of some powerful house.

The girl behind him, however, he doesn’t.

You’re wearing a dark red dress, your hair pulled elegantly away from your face, and you’ve the warmest eyes he’s ever seen. A fire ignites inside him, smoldering him from the inside out as you curtsy and he stands, his chair grating harshly against marble.

You smile at his flustered expression and he finds it beautiful.

“Your Highness.”

“My lady.”

“Your hedge maze was no challenge for me,” you proclaim and James laughs, tucking his book underneath his arm.

“And you’re good at puzzles?”

“The best.”

His heart no longer beats in his chest as your father explains that you’re simply here to shadow him in his diplomatic duties.

He had never worried about marrying a woman he didn’t know the name of, but now, as you cock your head and your smile grows sly at his shy grin, he knows you’ve stolen his heart the instant he laid eyes on you.

Any betrothal in his future will be for nothing because all he wants is to marry you.

.

It’s his seventeenth birthday and he’d spent the night before drinking smuggled whiskey and smoking rum with his friends. His head pounds now, with regret, as he tries to keep himself from falling asleep. His feast is going full swing, and he can’t quite recall ever feeling the effects of irresponsible drinking so strongly than tonight.

“Your Highness.”

You’re helping him in that regard.

“You can’t doze off, can you?”

He blinks, head jerking to you, and you smile.

“It wouldn’t be fit for a king to sleep at his own birthday feast.” Extending a hand over the table, you cock your head. “Dance with me. Perhaps then you’ll stay awake long enough to see the night to its end.” Standing, James feels blood rush through his body and he grins, placing his hand and yours and walking around the table. You tug him playfully into the center of the dance floor, the circlet gleaming in your hair.

The melodies of the band sink into his bones as he places a hand on your waist, the other interlacing with yours as he steps with the music.

“I apologize, my lady.”

“Oh, as you should.” You smile although your tone betrays it as he spins you around. Your dress floats, flares gracefully from your waist in dark green flames, matching the emerald on your sternum. A gift of his for your last birthday. “Illicit drinking without me? Honestly, it’s a crime.”

“Steve wanted to keep it a secret,” James protests as he dips you in one hand.

“Funnily enough, Lord Rogers said it was your idea.” Hoisting you back up, you send him a berating glare. “Honestly, you’ve never kept a secret from me. What’s going on, now? You’ve been ignoring me for days.”

“Nothing, bluebird,” he soothes as your hand settles on his shoulder, and a heat blossoms from your palm, through him. He could melt into your heat, the effortless hearth that stems from your very soul. His eyes settle on your confused expression, and he pulls you close, forehead knocking into yours. “I promise you. There is no secret.”

“You’re lying,” you murmur, eyes searching his. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“As are you.”

You scoff, drawing back and their noses brush as you narrow your gaze in a challenge. “You’d be surprised.” You twirl out of his reach with a parting glare, another lady taking your place and he’s surprised to see Lady Natasha smirking up at him. Taking her hand in his, he steps back into a bow while she curtsies. The music stalls for a moment as he kisses the redhead’s knuckles before it picks back up again.

“My lady.”

“She’s not very pleased, is she?” the redhead points out and James groans. “You invited her all this way and then chose to exclude her on the pre-celebration ritual.”

“Don’t tell me you’re the one who told her,” he complains, nearly stepping on Natasha’s toes but the lady quickly steps out from underneath his boot. “I’m trying to keep it all a secret. You know that.”

“I think you’re doing a terrible job of it. If you’re going to propose to her, it might be best not to act like she has the plague.”

“I haven’t!”

“Yes, you have. Don’t play the fool.” Natasha narrows her gaze, squeezing his hand painfully, and James winces. “You’ve never went a single week in the four years you’ve known her without sending her a letter and suddenly, the moment we get here, I have to listen to her complain about how you refuse to even look her in the eye and how you don’t spend any time on her, excusing it with flimsy reasons.” Shaking her head, Natasha pretends to accidentally step on James’ foot as they waltz around each other. “You’re lucky she loves you. She suspects something is wrong with you, and she’ll get it out.”

“And you didn’t tell her, did you?” James adds nervously, causing Natasha to sigh heavily, rolling her eyes. Her whole body seems to cave in with the stupidity James is apparently exuding as she sucks in a breath and tries to formulate a response not too rude for him.

“Of course not. Why would I ruin something like this for her, Your Highness?” With the last, biting word, Natasha is whisked away by a blond man with flushed cheeks and way too many drinks to be anything but a stuttering mess. James follows the redhead as she pulls Steve off the floor and sighs dejectedly, collapsing into the chair beside his best friend.

“Your birthday not all you wanted, my lord?” Steve crows as Natasha brings a goblet of wine to her mouth to hide her smile. James, with a glum smile, leans his cheek against his fist and watches you dance with another lord. He’s a bit older, one of the lords of your house, and handsome in a roguish sort of way.

Lord Rumlow, your sworn shield.

James does his best to bite his tongue when you toss your head back in a laugh and the knight grins, his obsidian eyes soft only for you.

The three friends exchange glances as you cup the knight’s cheek before slipping into the crowd just as the music ends, and James stands abruptly without a farewell to his companions. Pushing himself through the crowd, he mutters his pardons, your dress slipping between noble lords and ladies.

Breaking into the hall outside the ballroom, he doesn’t see a trace of you.

As if you’ve disappeared.

Sighing, he walks to the gardens. These halls are ones he knows well, ones he’s run through since he was nothing but a princeling escaping his nursemaid’s supposedly evil clutches. Then, as a boy after tutoring or a day out riding, and now…

He had walked you through these halls a dozen times and he still thinks you haven’t seen everything.

One place you do know, however, is the palace gardens.

The leaves are silver in the moonlight, a gentle wind rustling through the hedges as he makes his way through the hedge maze. Crickets chirp and some bird croons as he sucks in a warm summer breath. It smells heavenly, of flowers and sweet sugar, of light and clean water. He can hear the faint music from the palace, still, but the smell of hearty meats and smoke have faded to something softer, something warmer.

“James?”

Your voice pierces through the night air as he finds himself in the centre of the maze. You turn around on one of the benches to look at him, and he’s surprised by the morose expression printed onto your face.

“Are you alright?” Stepping to the bench, he sits down beside you with a frown. “Did something happen?”

“Brock was simply saying how I had to rest up tomorrow. We depart at dusk tomorrow to avoid the rebels.” You turn to him, a glumness to your face he’s not used to seeing and he takes your hands gently in his. “I’m sorry I have to leave so early. We were supposed to have the week together.”

“If the rebels are threatening the roads, it’s best you go before you can’t any longer,” he whispers, leaning forward and pressing his lips to your brow. You inhale shakily at his touch, leaning into him. “I’m sorry I can’t fix this.”

“You can’t fix everything, Bucky,” you mumble, your nose brushing against his as you pull back. James wrinkles his nose and you cup his cheek, thumb brushing underneath his eye. “I just don’t think this is a war we need to fight.”

.”These magic users are dangerous—”

“Those magic users are people,” you reply hotly, pulling back and standing. You turn away from him and James’ eyebrows knit together as he stands as well. He doesn’t reach out for you, and you wrap your arms around yourself. “They’re people who’ve been treated like beasts.” Approaching you slowly, he gently sets his hands along your shoulders and you whirl around in his grasp. Your eyes search his, and he feels something in him soften at the bleeding heart he can see in your chest.

“You know I can’t change my mother’s policies. Not after how Father died.” His throat cinches shut at the mention of the father he never knew and he turns away from your palm, looking up at the summer sky. A dark indigo canvas speckled with diamonds, it’s so vast and endless, James can’t help but wonder if his father is watching down on him.

“What happened with your father, with Steve’s father, it was one incident that somehow made everyone see people with magic like freaks. One incident was all it took.” Looking down at you again, James brushes his knuckles down your cheek. “We haven’t exactly prosecuted all of mankind for one man going on a murder spree with a knife he stole from the butcher’s shop,” you say, voice snapping like a whip as you pull away. Again, you turn away from him and James feels at a loss. Every time you turn away, he feels as if he’s splitting in two and he sighs, letting his hand fall back to his side.

“We put murderers, criminals, in jail.”

“And we’ve persecuted a whole people for the same thing.” Your shoulders fall as you let out a tremendous breath, and an emptiness in James widens at the desolate aura emanating from your very being. “I should go.”

You move towards the hedges but James walks after you. “Wait! I don’t want us to depart on these terms. I have no wish for you to leave angry at me.”

You turn slowly, your dress twisting and brushing against the dirt as you shake your head, a gentle smile upon your face.

“I’m not angry at you, James,” you assure quietly, and he believes you by the earnest glint in your eyes.

“Then, may I walk you to your room, my lady?”

You dip your head, and extend a hand for him to take. Your fingers slide easily between his, and he pauses, simply admiring your face bathed in silver light. His other hand reaches to brush against your jaw and your smile grows as you cup his jaw and pull him down.

The kiss is quiet, tender, and his eyes slide shut as your hand runs through his hair, pulling back just enough to breathe.

“Promise you’ll love me,” you whisper, words as soft as silk against his lips as he presses his brow to yours. Your eyes are still closed but his flutter open, soaking in your face as if he’ll never have enough time to memorize it. You cup his face with both hands, open your eyes and stare into his soul. A wounded ache festers in your gaze and he nods. “Promise you’ll love me always.”

Drawing back, he feels your hands tremble and brings them in his own to his lips. Mouth against your fingers, he nods again. “I promise I will always love you.” Kissing your knuckles, he does not break his gaze away as your lips curl into a tender smile. Squeezing his hands, you look younger, as if a burden has been lifted off your shoulders, and in that moment, James swears he has never seen something quite so divine.

He falls to one knee, and reaffirms his grasp on your hands before digging through his trouser pocket for the ring.

“Bucky…” you begin, bemused at his antics, but then you catch sight of the ring and your breath hitches. Eyes widening, your fingers wrap tighter around his as he brings the ring up to the moonlight. In lunar rays, it glows effervescently, winking and stunning in its shallow grooves, smooth gold, and intricately shaped hands linked together. The metal bends, caves where the fingers interlace and you let out a whispering sigh as he looks up at you.

A heat rises in his cheeks and he swallows the nerves biting at his throat. He should’ve had a drink before he came out here, but then again, he hadn’t realized this would be where—

He should’ve. This is, after all, where he first fell in love with you.

“Marry me,” he says although it’s more of a question, a request, an ask for a blessing, and your smile is brilliant as you say nothing. “It is why I have been so distant lately. I’ve been trying to find the perfect execution, but it seems my own heart has betrayed me. I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you, and although I am your prince, to be your king… Do me this honour, Y/N, and be my queen.”

“Well…” Your grin digs into your cheeks as he looks up at you, and a flood of relief fills his body as you tilt your head, just as you did the first day you met him. “No more drinking without me, then I’ll marry you,” you proclaim and he laughs as you tug him onto his feet. “Promise me that.”

Sliding the ring onto your finger, he presses a warm, bruising kiss against your lips before pulling back just far enough to whisper, “You have my word.”

And then he kisses you again.

.

If, four years ago, James knew marriage would be so exhausting, he would still do it again in a heartbeat.

Your laughter, after all, is the song he wakes up to every morning.

That, or the squirming body of his son trying to get between James and you.

You laugh as his son bounces between your legs, desperate for the horse to go faster than the easy walk he paces at, and James watches as you wrap an arm around his son’s waist.

“Your stallion is ready, my king.” Turning to the stable hand, he nods his thanks and mounts easily atop the white steed, gently nudging his sides into a trot to join his family at the edge of the woods. Alpine nickers his greetings to your mare as you tug on the reins with your one hand.

“A fine afternoon,” he comments, glancing over at you as Stellan wraps his chubby hands around the handle of the saddle specifically crafted for riding with a child.

“Indeed it is, your Grace,” you tease, brushing your hair out of your face. “A fine day for riding.” Your mare bumps noses with his stallion as Stellan notices his father, clapping his hands. “The prince wants his father.” Hoisting his son out from the space between your lap, you hand him over to James with a grin.

“Papa!”

Kissing his son’s cheek, James grins when his son latches onto him, arms wrapped around his father’s neck as they start their ride into the woods. James keeps a hand on Stellan, careful not to let him fall or squirm too much.

His twenty-first year has been blessed with peace, and James can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. The rebels have been squashed into their hiding holes, and the kingdom prospers with long summers and short winters.

And his family…

He looks at you and something inside him melts. Your lips are puckered in a whistle and you repeat the bird songs chirping through the trees while the guard rides behind you, and he glances back to see Steve talking to Lady Natasha.

What joke did she tell him this time? He wonders, amused when Steve blushes at whatever Natasha said. Always flustered by whatever the bold redhead says. I hope nothing too under the skirts.

“Eyes forward, my king,” you call and he turns forward again to see you up ahead, head tilted to look over your shoulder. “We do have a clearing to reach before midday.”

“Mama?” Squirming in his arms, Stellan wriggles his way back between his father’s thighs and grabs the wooden handle of the saddle. Bouncing excitedly, the boy leans forward. “Go!” James nudges Alpine into a trot to catch up to his wife as his guard splits apart in the woods, no doubt interested in a day off simply relaxing without any drills on a sunny day like this. He’s sure some would head off to the lake for a swim while others participated in a hunt.

“Are you coming, Rogers?” a voice crows within the trees, and James grins when he hears Anthony’s squire, Peter, exclaim in pain when he hits his head on a low-hanging tree branch. “Your lady can come, too!”

“She’s not my lady, Tony!” Steve calls back as James catches up to where you’ve stopped and he pulls his reins lightly to stall as well. Glimpsing Steve’s red face, James smirks when the blond turns to Natasha. “I mean, you are my lady, my lady.”

“Aren’t you the charmer?” Natasha says dryly as the two approach the royals. Their steeds’ ears twitch and Natasha scratches her horse’s ear as you grin. “My king. My queen.”

“You do realize you are free to take the day off. We haven’t had the time to do so in ages,” you tell them kindly, your eyes darting from the lady to the lord. “Not since James has been crowned king, I feel.” Steve cocks his head when Stellan tries to reach over to him and he picks up the prince, bouncing him in his arms. “Not since this one was born for certain. You ought to take it, the both of you.”

“Spoken like a true queen,” Natasha teases. “But I agree. Diplomacy is an exhausting sport.”

“Sport? I’m sure Rhodes wouldn’t be so inclined to call it so.”

“Rhodes needs to stop and learn to relax. It’s not that complicated.”

“He knows how to relax,” James quips. “He just doesn’t take his job so lightly unlike you, Lady Natasha.”

Natasha grins, rolling her eyes before tugging the reins of her steed towards a parting in the trees. “Well, unlike Rhodes who is no doubt racing Tony to the lake, I will take a long, leisurely stroll there. Lord Rogers, if you would accompany me?”

“Of course, my lady.” Steve transfers Stellan from his arms back into his father’s, picking up his reins before dipping his head to you. “My queen.” Always with the formalities, James muses as he grabs Steve’s hand in a hearty shake farewell. “I won’t be too far away.”

“I’m counting on it,” James replies before the blond rides after the redhead, and the royals look at each other before bursting out into laughter. “God, I wonder when he’ll ever have the courage to properly ask for her hand in marriage.”

“Knowing them both, she’ll ask first,” you reply with a wrinkle of your nose and the two of you ride off into the woods.

The destination is a clearing upon a small hill, sparkling with morning dew just beginning to dry and flowers blooming in the branches. The trees part perfectly in a path down the hill to the lake and the sun casts golden shafts through the branches, the entire clearing glimmering in its blessing. The smell of fresh wind and sweet nectar fills James’ nose as you dismount beside him, lowering Stellan gently onto the grass. You unpack your saddlebag, revealing blankets and food.

James dismounts as well, patting Alpine firmly along his neck as he grabs the flagon of wine and more food from his own saddlepack while you lay the blanket gently over the grass. Feeding an apple to Alpine, he gently rubs his steed’s nose before joining his wife and son underneath the shade of a tree.

Unbuckling his belt, he rests his sword against the trunk before sinking to his knees beside you. You’re already leaning back on an arm, watching as Stellan chases a butterfly across the huge clearing and James kisses your temple, easing against the tree. You immediately lean against him, your head against his chest, and he tilts his head back to feel the breeze along his neck.

“This is wonderful,” you sigh, your hand on his chest. “Four years of nothing but non-stop madness and now we have a day to simply breathe..”

“Three years of being king, four of being a father. I don’t think I’ve ever been so exhausted,” he agrees. “Father always made it seem so effortless.”

“Well, that’s how fathers are,” you tease, glancing up at him. He looks down with a slight frown and you reach up to tap his nose. “You’ve been nothing but a perfect father to Stellan. You ought to slip before he thinks you’re some god.”

“Would that be too bad?” His nose wrinkles and you chuckle, pecking his lips before sitting upright. Stellan wanders back towards his parents, his chubby fist holding blades of grass and he tosses it at James before crawling into his mother’s lap. “He seems to be his mother’s son, anyway.”

“As he should,” you fire back, lifting Stellan up in your hands and throwing him up a few times. His high-pitched giggles cause James to smile as he leans down, brushes hair away from your forehead and kisses your brow. Tilting your chin up to snag his lips into another brief kiss, you settle your son against your chest and roll over.

“Mama, walk,” Stellan orders, and you look down at your son. “Go walk.”

“Your son’s already giving me orders,” you comment pointedly, sitting up as Stellan gets to his feet and James smirks, beginning to unpack the food.

“I think he’s more like you in that regard,” James fires back mischievously and you lightly smack his shoulder as their son grabs your hand and tugs you away. Pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, you allow yourself to be lead into the forest while James carefully sets up the wine, the food. Taking a bite out of a bit of cheese, he heads to the horses who’ve been roaming the clearing and sighs.

He must cherish this day. Tomorrow, it’ll be nothing but more meetings with diplomats, advisors, and other engagements regarding the bandits along their border.

Magic still spikes fear in the hearts of his people, despite how hard you’ve tried to dissuade the notion that magic is dangerous. It’s been your one goal since you’ve been crowned his queen, a movement that has made you…

Made you controversial, to say the least.

It has definitely put you into disfavour with his mother, but James doesn’t care.

He knows your heart is in the right place, even if he himself is still afraid. There is that bravery with you, that makes him want to be brave, too, but his father...

He will never forget the sight of his dead father.

Stroking Alpine’s snout, he feels the stallion lip at his pockets, searching for treats as your mare nickers, coming over with ears perked up in interest. Turning to the mare, he grins when she snorts against his cheek.

Grinning, he simply lets the horses nudge him every which way, threads his fingers through their manes. With a deep breath, he lets the day wash over him. He closes his eyes and presses his brow against Alpine’s.

In the distance, he can hear Natasha shouting at Anthony, Steve’s loud, bright laughter.

No matter what happens, he wouldn’t change being a king for anything if it meant ruling with these people beside him.

“Wolf! Wolf! It’s the White Wolf!”

Peter’s petrified warning shout echoes through the forest and James jerks towards his voice, eyes widening. The White Wolf?

His blood freezes in his veins. The White Wolf had been lurking through their woods for the past years, a white beast larger than horses and hungrier than ten wolves that only came out at night. With blood red eyes and claws that could eviscerate through steel armour, the White Wolf is nothing short of a monster.

Never has he heard of it roaming during the day.

Until now.

“Peter!”

“Where’s the king?”

Alpine lets out a loud neigh, stomping his foot against the soft dirt as the sound of swords and steel clashing and James grabs his belt from the tree, cinching it tight around his waist as Steve appears in the parting of the trees. His thoughts immediately race towards you and Stellan, alone in the woods, and his heart leaps to his throat as he turns to Steve.

“She went out with Stellan for a walk,” James barks, brushing past Steve roughly. Behind him is the rest of his guard, stumbling up the hills in various states of undress, but they stop as soon as they catch sight of him. Ice seeps into his veins and he ignores the thought of you mauled to pieces, a tiny body beside yours. “Find your queen!”

“Yes, my king!”

Drawing their swords, the knights split off in coordinated groups, disappearing in seconds. Steve and James pair off and sprint into the woods. His blood is racing through his body, his feet flying through the grass as he hears the loud roar of the bear.

Shouting your name, shouting Stellan’s, his lungs feel like they’re about to burst as the crashing river comes into view. The sound of the white rapids, thunderous as waves crash against rock, echoes in James’ skull as he sweeps his eyes for a glimpse of you.

There’s the dark brown of wood everywhere, the same shade as Stellan’s leather vest, and his vocal cords burn as he screams over the sounds of the rapids.

“James?” He can hear his name in the distance and then there is a flash of white smudged with green and he can see Stellan bursting through the bushes on the other side of the river, followed by you. Steve raises his hand as you scoop up your son, and James rushes to the chaotic riverside. Frigid water splashes at his boots and a chill shoots up his spine. “What is it?”

“We need to head back. The Wolf is awake.”

Eyes widening, you disappear back into the woods after a quick nod, and James turns to Steve with a grimace before they start to sprint down the river. 

The only place to cross is by the lake where the river is calmer.

All he wants is to hold you in his arms.

The river calms as the trees begin to thin out once they reach the crystalline lake and Steve breaks through first just as something bursts through the bushes. Stellan’s cheeks are streaked with tears and as soon as he catches sight of his father, he runs towards you, and you tear out after him, your clothes stained with dirt and leaves, your hair a mess.

What follows is a massive beast, lunging out of the trees for you. It’s nothing but a flash of white fur and red eyes, claws gleaming in the sunlight. Drawing his sword, Steve runs into its path, bowled over with a painful clash just as James unsheathes his sword. You pick up Stellan and run up the hill, and as soon as James makes sure you’re on your way to safety, he joins Steve in the battle. The Wolf drags its claws through steel, and Steve lets out a scream, struggling to wrench its paw off of him just as James charges at the thing, running his blade through the pelt but it seems to glance off easily.

No mark stains the pelt and it swipes out a ferocious paw, knocking James aside as Steve struggles weakly, blood beginning to seep into the soil beneath. Scarlet rivulets gleam in the sunlight as James blinks his vision clear, digging his sword tip in an attempt to stand again. Terror tries to lock his limbs, but he tries to fight the swelling in his chest as he reaffirms his grip on the sword and runs at the beast once again.

The Wolf’s lips pulled back in a snarl, it leaves Steve motionless just as James tries to stab at its shoulder and it pulls back, tail thrashing. Blood drips from its maw and as James stares into the eyes of death, he wonders what he’ll see on the other side.

Hopefully, nothing.

Realistically, this will not be a painless death.

He raises his sword, and steadies his breath, sweat gathering in the hollow of his back, the seam that has stitched itself into his ribs just beginning to heal. Lungs heaving for air, he feels light-headed, near dizzy with adrenaline.

The Wolf lunges and James tries to jump out of the way too late. It catches him by the waist, drags him through the mud and his sword goes flying as teeth sink into his thigh. Grunting, he smashes his fist into the mutt’s muzzle to no avail, desperate to contain the scream trying to rip through his chest.

Black dots swarm his vision and his whole body is in flames as he raises his other leg, kicking the Wolf in the eye but it is not phased.

At least, not until something blasts it off of him.

Gasping for air, he pushes himself up and away from the Wolf that lies in a crumpled heap by the lake shore and then there is another pulse of energy, a cage of gold forming around the beast before hands hoist him up underneath his arms and drag him away.

“Are you alright?” He can hear your voice, sharp in his ear, and he turns to see you, eyes focused on the Wolf struggling to escape its prison. His whole body is aching buried deep in his bones and blooming like flowers in summer, and blood soaks through his trousers as you pull him behind a rock, dropping into a crouch beside him. “James?”

“What was that?” he whispers harshly, hand wrapping around your wrist, and your gaze jerks towards him jarringly. There is a light he does not recognize, focused, precised, glimmering in your eyes. You pull your wrist out of his grasp, turning to his oozing wound. Grabbing his hands, you push it atop the puncture, and James’ breath hitches at the warm, tingling sensation festering in his leg.

“I need to pull Steve to safety. Put pressure on that and do not move. You’ll only bleed more.” Without another word, you turn and make a lifting gesture with your hands. James cranes his head to watch a warm, golden corona surround Steve’s body and he is dragged towards them, leaving a trail of blood-soaked grass. The Wolf growls, lunges and bites, the sizzling of its energy cage filling the silence along with the clanking of Steve’s armour just as the blond is caught in your hands.

Pulling him around the rock cover, you hoist Steve up against the stone and run a glowing hand across the hemorrhaging body. Your fingers, tense and locked, seem to tremble as the blood stops flowing, and James’ eyes nearly pop out of his skull as he watches the eviscerated remains of his best friend begin to stitch together.

Turning to his own leg, he lifts his blood-red palms to see it already nearly closed, and his heart constricts as he covers it again and lets his head fall back to the stone.

Magic.

There’s the sound of branches breaking and James’ eyes snap open. Sweat pours at your brow just as he turns to look at you, and you barely flash him a smile before something snaps again and your attention is torn away.

Immediately, the stitching effect disappears and James cradles Steve’s head in his, brushes blood away from his cheek as a sharp howl pierces the air. The summer heat is thick against his cheeks as you trade blow for blow with the Wolf.

He wants nothing more than to step in beside you, but with every flash of gold, every bright burst of energy, he feels the fear he felt when he was nothing more than a child locking his legs, paralyzing his body.

Magic.

Pure, powerful magic lights up the air and he can smell it, smoke and starlight, on his tongue.

The Wolf lunges and you toss it into the lake. You send a shockwave rippling towards the hound and it merely jumps over and pins you to the ground. Its claw gouges into your chest and your scream is earth-shattering as you kick it off of you with a powerful blast from your legs. Rolling onto your hands and knees, James can see blood drip slowly down your chest, into the grass as your tattered dress blows in the gentle wind.

You seem to stare into death’s jaws, and then…

You smile.

The Wolf’s claws dig into the dirt, and then it is sprinting at you in full force just as you force yourself onto your feet.

Your name tears through his chest just as the Wolf tackles you into the lake and there is a small flash before a loud crash of water and he turns to Steve to make sure he’s still alive before stumbling to his feet to watch, and in the lake, two beasts thrash in the cold water. Jaws snap, claws drag through flesh, and he watches as a magnificent bird beats its wings, sending a rippling gale of wind through the lake. The water recedes onto the shore as fire flares and the Wolf whines in pain as talons sink into its back.

An awe fills his entire body as the gorgeous phoenix flaps its wings and takes flight, dropping the Wolf onto the shore once again and landing with delicate precision. It warbles, a gentle sound, and shakes out its feathers, droplets of silky water flying everywhere. Each quill is red-orange, near golden, and its talons glimmer with golden scales.

James’ mouth drops open as it croons at the Wolf who merely cowers in its presence. Another whimper escapes the white dog, its red eyes fading to brown and James, entranced, watches as the phoenix, wings extended, begins to sing.

A sense of melancholy seeps into his soul as the Wolf lowers its chin to its paws and the phoenix coos, the crest on its head swaying and catching the true sunlight. They shine like cut amber as its golden eyes narrow.

Then, there is another, softer glow as the phoenix buries its beak in the fur of the Wolf, and James turns away, shielding his eyes from what seems like the sun. Falling beside Steve, he looks at his best friend.

“Steve?” he murmurs, and murky blue eyes meet his just as you appear again. Magic still oozes around you like oil in the sea, and he can smell magic again, but warmer this time—like a hearth burns inside his soul. Around your shoulders is an arm attached to a young woman he doesn’t recognize in a white dress.

“Are you alright?” you ask, slowly lowering the woman to the ground as well. Reaching, you cup Steve’s face that is beginning to regain its colour, and James watches gold light up the blood beneath his skin where you touch.

Don’t touch him, he wants to say, but Steve only wakes up at the contact, eyes widening ever more so slightly.

“Y/N,” Steve rasps and your hand retreats just as you turn to the woman that’s barely stirring. James watches as you lay a hand carefully on her arm, and she raises her head groggily. Her eyes are muddy, dazed, but then they roll back and she slumps forward and Steve jerks away from the hair brushing against his hand, shuffling back against James who wraps an arm around Steve. “I thought death held me for certain.”

“It almost did, old friend,” James replies, eyes wandering to you. “And the Wolf?”

“She needs time to recover,” you reply, delicately brushing hair away from the girl’s face and James’ eyebrows rise in shock.

His whole body is wracked with fatigue, but his mouth drops open when he gets a glimpse of the necklace hanging around the girl’s neck. “I remember her. Seven years ago, House Starr reported their daughter was missing to Mother. They never found her.”

“At least not until now. I need to bring her to healers,” you say, standing and lifting the girl with surprising ease. James struggles to his feet, pulling Steve up, and your eyes soften at him as you try to smile, but the blood, the still-fading glint in your eyes, sends chills through his body.

Magic…

“We’ll need to speak later.” You dip your head in farewell before walking to the lakeshore, and Steve groans, his entire body deadweight against James’ shoulder and the king grunts, doing his best to keep him standing.

“Bluebird, wait—”

You glance at him over his shoulder, and there is a sorrowful sweetness resting in your face, a tenderness in your smile, a grief in your gaze.

Then, a golden sparks carve a line into the air, sizzling against the grass as it carves a portal into this reality. You turn forward and walk through.

It closes before he can follow.

.

His mind is cluttered, his ears full of beeswax, and he doesn’t know what is real.

Steve had been rushed to the hospital wing to be swarmed by doctors, the other knights anxious yet relieved to see both the king and their knight commander alive and safe.

He doesn’t miss the fact that Rumlow is not among those men.

In fact, he is missing, and not a single soul has heard from him.

Buried in his bones is an ache James cannot ignore. His chest feels like it’s splitting open, his ribs snapped, and as he stares at his reflection in the cheval mirror, he swallows the hard lump in his throat.

The teeth marks are already closed, scarring over yet there’s still a residual pulse of pain when he prods at it.

He doesn’t know whether or not to be enraged, relieved.

All he knows is emptiness.

“Are you alright?” Startled, James drops his pant leg and turns around to see you standing there, eyes wide and a tentative smile upon your lips. His breath catches in your throat and his eyes immediately go to his hands that you clasp before you. “James?”

“What are you doing here?” he asks, feather soft and you walk closer, your footsteps light. “Where is the Wolf?”

“Lady Ava is fine. I’ve brought her to some healers on the border of Asgard and Midgard. It was some curse inflicted upon her as a child. Parental mishap, it seems but she’ll be fine with time,” you inform quietly, your gaze dipping to your hands as you twist the ring, the ring he had given you, around your finger. “Is Steve…”

“He’s alive,” he replies stiffly, brushing past you and you turn around with him, lips twisted into a worried frown. “Thank you,” he adds quietly, genuinely. His mind is a whirlwind, his heart racing in his ears, and he can’t help the sensation that seizes his chest, the awareness of where your hands move. “Without you, he would’ve died.”

“Steve is family.” Walking up behind him, James can feel you come close. His entire body tenses, and he faces the wall, eyes slip shut. Bright blasts of gold ignite in his mind, followed by a ravaged village he had seen on his tour of his kingdom. At the hands of magic.

Hands of your kind.

He forces the next words out between gritted teeth, the words coming out flat, stoic.

“Go, before someone tells the truth about you.”

“James, you can’t possibly—” You touch his shoulder and James flinches away, whirling around to face you. Your eyes widen at the reaction, and you withdraw your hand back, stumbling to the wall. “You’re afraid of me.”

“You’re magic,” he whispers, voice wavering and you swallow audibly. Your hand shakes through the air as you retract it to your chest, and he watches the pulsing wound along your collarbone slowly stitch itself together, the flesh leaving no mark. Magic. “Of course I’m afraid of you.”

“James—”

“And Stellan,” he cuts you off cleanly, trying his best not to shake when your eyes widen, wet with tears. You blink and they fall, crystalline in the low light. You’re shaking, your entire body trembling as the two of you stand on opposite sides of the small room. “Is he…”

“Magic?” you finish for him and your voice is void of life, defeated. Your hands drop to your sides and you seem to stand straighter under his gaze as you stare at him. “After all this time, you’re still afraid of magic. You won’t even let me explain.” Your expression crumbles and you turn your face away, rubbing at the tears tracking down your face. An incredulous, sharp exhale fills the silence and James feels something inside him split open.

“Would you? Explain, that is.”

His heart wilts, his lungs collapse. His ribs seem to ache as you wipe at your face, the soft sounds of your uneven breathing filling the silence. He can feel your gaze, hot and desolate and aching against his cheek as he closes his eyes.

All he can see is his father’s splayed body, the blood soaking through the mud.

“You keep this secret from me, and expect me to trust you with the truth?”

“James…” you whisper softly, and his gaze jerks to yours jarringly. Your glassy eyes seem to stare right through him and he swallows through the bruising in his throat as he tries to hold back his own tears. “Please—”

“How could you not tell me?” he croaks, and you inhale, a shuddering, sharp thing. His chest is cracked open, his limbs are numb yet every bone in his body is solid lead. “How could you keep this from me?”

“Because I know you.” 

Your words are empty in the summer air.

There is a moment of silence as everything James knows shatters around him. If he listens close enough, he can hear the shards of it colliding with the stone beneath his feet, breaking into uncountable pieces.

“Go,” he says softly, and he can’t bear to look at the devastation his words cause. “I’ll say you died in the attack, so you have enough time to leave the kingdom. Take Stellan and do not return.”

“James, no. He’s your son. Please, don’t—”

“I said, go!” The loudness of his voice shocks him and he flinches back into the wall at the eerie quiet that follows.

There is the only sound of uneven breathing, the cacophony of hearts breaking, and you step forward, the fabric of your tattered dress brushing against the floor. He can see your shadow in the candlelight, reaching for him, before you jerk back and he closes his eyes, burning tears dripping down his cheeks.

The door groans when you push it open, as if the castle is reluctant to let you leave, but then it opens and you slip out.

The door closes shut with a soft, yet thunderous boom.

.

“The King is awake!”

James’ head blisters with pain, and it only intensifies at the voice as he blinks his eyes open. The ceiling of his room is not unfamiliar, neither is the mattress he’s beginning to wear uneven beneath his back.

All these years and he never could sleep on your side of the bed.

“James!” Doors open and hands rush to help him sit up, and he groans, eyes squeezing shut when his head sways. His whole world slants and the taste of vomit burns at his throat as he slowly opens his eyes again, and he catches sight of Natasha’s red hair. The bright light streaming into his room makes his head pulse and he turns away, hand rising like it’s dragging through molasses.

“The light,” he rasps, and Natasha, who holds him by the elbows, turns to whomever is with her.

Darkness falls in his room.

“James.” Steve. “Are you alright?”

“What… how am I here?” His tongue is thick in his mouth, dry and raw, and his vocal cords twinge at his voice.

“Rumlow almost killed you,” Steve begins quietly as more people enter the room. “We lost men, but won the battle once they surrendered.”

“Surrendered?” Frowning, James’ brow wrinkles and he feels something split open with a stinging sensation digging into his skull. He hisses out, reaching to touch it but Natasha guides his hand away. “Fuck. Where—”

“In the dungeons. Waiting for you whenever you’re ready.” Natasha’s voice is soothing to the thumping in his skull.

“Help me stand.”

“Wait. Give yourself a few moments to regain your bearings,” Steve murmurs but James shakes his head despite how terribly it increases the agony chipping into his head.

“No—”

“James.”

“If she’s there, I need to see her.” Letting go of Natasha’s hand, he swings his legs off the bed and leans forward, hands clutching onto the edge of his bed.

“James.”

“What?” he barks, head snapping to Steve and Natasha who look at each other with an apprehension. “Steve…” Something drags at his gut and his eyes widen in fear. Ice sluices through his chest. The silence becomes suffocating and with every passing second, he feels the world darken in on him.

No. No, no, no, no—

“She’s not there.”

“Where is she?”

“James, sit down.”

The ice melts into magma, and he thrashes off Natasha’s gentle hand. 

“Where is she?”

.

Peter’s cabin is small, but warmly furbished for a squire. He lets them in before excusing himself to the castle, and James feels like he’s chained to a solid steel ball by the ankle. His limbs are wrought with bruises, and his head sways with every step as Natasha and Steve help him in.

He can see you through the open door to Peter’s room, and his breath stops in his chest.

Your body is hunched over a bed, a blanket draped over your shoulders as the sun washes over your body. You don’t stir at the entrance of the trio and James lets out the breath, the string lancing through his body snipped when you don’t immediately move. You’re dressed in oversized clothes, trousers and a linen shirt hanging off your shoulders. Your hair is slick with oil, and he can smell the poultices that must’ve been slathered onto any wounds from where he walks slowly deeper into the room, his fingers deep in Natasha’s and Steve’s arms.

“Steve,” Natasha murmurs, and she brings James’ hand to Steve before approaching the bed slowly. Steve leads James to a couch by the small hearth but James’ eyes don’t stray from Natasha as the redhead approaches your sleeping form. He cranes his head to watch through the doorway, and his blood rushes to his head, dizzying.

“Why is she here?” James whispers, voice fleeting just as Natasha lays a hand on your shoulder and you jerk up, a soft blue corona flaring around your being and Natasha raises her hands, walking around the bed. Narrowing his gaze, James tries to decipher who lays there as you stand on unsteady feet, rub at your face.

“How long have I been asleep?” you ask quietly and the sound of your voice, deeper, mature, strikes James, pulls him apart at the seams. Standing on unsteady feet, his legs knock into a table as he rushes towards the bedroom despite Steve’s attempts to grab him, and he stumbles to the door frame, his head spinning.

His vision blurs, and his head feels like it’s bashed in, but he doesn’t miss the colour of your eyes, the way your head turns to look over your shoulder.

Lightning strikes his core when your gaze fixes on his. There’s so much about you that is the same since the last time he’s seen you. Thirteen years and you’ve only grown more beautiful, more graceful. The little wrinkle in your brow as you look at him, the tightness in your lips as you frown.

“James.”

Even the way you say his name is the same.

What isn’t, though, is the fear.

He knows what fear looks like on your face, the way it floods your eyes, the way it can’t show on the rest of you because you are a queen and untouchable, but for it to be directed at him…

His head is heavier than bricks on his shoulders as you back up until your legs touch the bed, and your arms are spread.

Is this how he looked at you all those years ago? As if he holds a knife to his throat and digs the blade deeper with every second?

“What is he doing here?” you ask, scratchy and you clear your throat, not tearing your gaze away from him for a second. James stays by the door, a cold hand wrapped around his ankle, keeping him there no matter how much he wants to move.

“I don’t want to hurt you—”

“Oh, you’ve done plenty.” Your voice, pure fire, sears through his chest as you narrow your gaze. “Go.”

“Y/N—”

“I said, leave.” Although no magic flares at your fingertips, there is a shift in the way the light plays in your eyes and James’ throat closes up at the way your eyes glisten. “Don’t you think your family has done enough?”

“You’re my family.”

“No, I wasn’t,” you whisper. Natasha’s head is bowed, but her eyes still watch the scene with an uncanny glint. Even if she is your friend, she will no doubt step between you and him. Catching the woman’s gaze, James tilts his head towards the door. Eyes widening, the red lady dips her head and slowly makes her way between them, her gaze slowly dragging across James’ expression but he remains solely focused on you.

Your eyes do not stray from him either.

Walking in slowly, he closes the door behind him and his eyes flicker to the figure in the bed. Their face is cloaked in shadow, but he can see dark hair illuminated by the candle. Eyes narrowing, he tries to discern who it is.

Perhaps it is Rumlow, and he has made a tremendous error.

“Why are you here?” you whisper tightly between clenched teeth, and his eyes snap back to yours. “It’s been thirteen years and you’ve fixed nothing.”

“I didn’t know Asgard was ruled by you,” he begins. “I didn’t know until I saw you on the rise. If I had known—”

“What? Would you have attempted peace? Or would you have tried to conquer us again like your father did?” Your expression is wracked with agony as he steps closer, and you inhale softly, shakily. “Stay away from me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Stay away—”

“Bluebird—”

“Do not think me so soft that I will listen to you because you call me that.” Your words become thin, choked. “I gave you my terms, and you didn’t choose peace, just as your father did.”

“Your people are hostile.”

“And yours murdered mine. King Thor died two moons ago and the only suspect is a Midgardian” Her words hang coldly before him and he pauses in the middle of the room. “As his successor, it was only natural to want justice.”

“Why you? Why not anyone else in his court?”

“Because I was not just Midgard’s queen,” you say, finally pulling your gaze away to sit down on the edge of the mattress and turning to the figure on the bed. You touch their face, but do not tilt them to the light. “Your father tried to conquer Asgard when I was young, four or five. I was playing with my brother in the streets, my mother watching over us. I didn’t know what was happening until we heard the screams.”

James hears the tiny, trembling breath in your throat as you run your hand down the figure’s cheek.

“It was too late before we knew to run. My mother took my brother and ran, and I did my best to follow, but they just kept running after us until we separated.” Your voice goes quieter, glass-like. “I found their bodies, my mother’s hunched over Loki’s as she tried to protect him. I can still see their blood, taste it in my mouth. It felt like the entire city burned before allied Jotunheim forces arrived and chased your people out of our land.”

“Y/N—”

Your gaze finally turns to him, and he does not recognize the pitifully small girl in them, the shivering, broken girl in the rain and smoke staring back at him. “They ran through the streets like rats. I could hear them shouting in fear as they froze to death, and I thought I was going to die, too, until Brock found me. He was… he was the knight commander’s squire, and he told me I had to run.”

“So he knew all this time.”

“Of course he did. He was sworn to protect me,” you murmur, and the way your voice flips makes James’ eyebrows rise.

“He loved you, you know?”

“I know he wanted revenge. I know he wanted me to kill you at every turn. I don’t know if he could have ever picked me over the other,” you whisper, eyes drifting and finding his again. Your eyes have softened with an unspoken agony, and the candlelight plays with your face, making you simultaneously younger and older all at once. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Your silence is his answer and, this time, when he comes closer, his hand against the wall, you don’t protest.

“I’m sorry.” He cranes to catch a glimpse of the face, and sees a younger face, at rest yet ashen with death. Eyebrows knitting together, he looks to you again and it’s breathtaking the way you gaze at him. Effortlessly in anguish, terrible in your grace. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“James—”

“Forgive me.” Pushing off the wall, he falls to his knees before you and bows his head, heat rushing to his face. Head submerged in his own shame, he can feel his shoulders shake before the tears come and his throat clots as he plants his hands into the ground. “Forgive me.” A worm in his gut wriggles its way up his throat and he feels sick to his stomach as he keens over, presses his brow to the wood. “I never meant this. I don’t know—where? How did we get here, bluebird? How?”

“James.” Your voice, strong yet tender, commands you to look up at him, and his face is kissed by cold wind as he wipes at his tears. “Come sit beside me.” Raising to unsteady feet, he collapses beside you and your arm immediately wraps around his shoulders, your other hand brushing hair away from his slick cheeks, his tear-stained eyes. “You know how we got here.” Your thumb brushes over his lip and a sense of warmth fills his hollow being. Thirteen years without your warmth, and now, he drowns in it.

Your hand flattens against his cheek and guides your gaze as you twist to reveal the face on the bed. With your free hand, you tilt the boy’s face towards him.

His entire body freezes as the boy murmurs, eyebrows knitting together and turning away.

“Stellan…” Standing, he rushes around to the other side of the bed to get a better look of him, and reaches with trembling hands toward his son’s face. A large cut is drawn into his stem and disappears beneath his shirt, and a rage fills his soul. He’ll kill the man who tried to kill his son. “My son—”

Who looks just like him in nature, the same jaw and nose. 

“—has grown into a man,” you say, and James wrenches his gaze to you. A sweet sorrow resides in your face as you smile. Holding Stellan’s face in his hands, James entire body alights with energy, with a breathless wonder. “And knows his father enough to save his life.” You thumb over Stellan’s cheek, your fingers barely brushing James’, golden magic spiralling beneath your hand like branching ivy, and the boy mumbles under his breath, turns to the warmth. He fights the instinct to flinch, and simply lets your magic caress his knuckles. It tickles, then melts like warm chocolate against him. “And he got a sword stem to stern for it.”

“He killed Rumlow?” James looks to you, his hands drawing away from his son’s face, and the warmth is chased away.

“It was instant. Brock felt no pain. It was all I could do to save Stellan,” you say, struggling to keep your voice even. “I don’t want us to fight, anymore, James. Bucky,” you correct yourself with a small smile, and his heart pangs as you reach for his hand across the bed. No one has called him that in years. “But if this is what happens when our people mingle, perhaps it’s best we stay apart.”

“I don’t want that,” he whispers, taking your hand and you study him with knitted eyebrows. “I don’t want to be apart from you for another moment.”

“Then, promise me you’ll fix this.” Your voice, barely a whisper and shaking, is strung with a strength he knows you have, and he looks to you, a queen all on your own.

You have never needed him, but he needs you. Your hand in his tells him as much as you weave your fingers carefully with his, and he wants to hold you tight, hold his son again.

Thirteen years have left him cold, nothing more than a skeleton in a flesh prison.

“I promise.”

At his words, your expression seems to ease, and then a shyer, girlish smile curls at your lips.

“And promise you’ll love me always.”

“I promise.”

[sweetestlamb]

Touch My Heart Part 2

Summary: Baby come back, you can blame it all on me. Or how to get your man back using bath soaps. 

She has to cry silently, let her heart crack and splinter in silence because she doesn't want to explain her tears to Hong Yeon or Court Lady Choi. She should have expected nothing, should have known the King would want the one he truly fell in love with. But she'd still hoped, wished, dreamed selfishly that he would accept her and her feelings.

That he would beg and plead with her to stay, would declare that he loved her too. She knew that wasn't the case but still her useless heart had been holding out, only to be shredded apart when his eyes revealed how much he missed Jang Bong Hwan. It wasn't fair for either of them, she couldn't be a replacement and he would be forever longing. They would live eternally in limbo, that was no life worth living.

It was a fool's dream, she'd thrown away her chance when she jumped into the lake drowning both her desires and ambitions. She thought filling his shoes would be doable, some of his quirks and behaviors had left a lasting impact on her soul and they had many hobbies in common. But they weren't the same, maybe cut from a similar quilt but the patchwork was too intricate to be replicated.

So she cries, gasping sobs that rattle her bones and wreck her lungs; for the life she couldn't have and for the pain she knows the chef must be going through. If she was this heartbroken at the thought of being without the King, he must be crushed; soul and spirit pulverized to dusty remains.

Sleep comes to her painstakingly, her eyes so raw and red that even the act of closing them hurts and she twists and turns all night until the sandman pulls her under.

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

"Hong Yeon-ah, you have been loyal to me since the day I was brought here." The young court maid looks at her with a puzzled smile at her sudden reminiscing, but nods as if she's used to her oddities by now, barely pausing her actions.

"Yes, you're highness. You are always most important to me. I will be loyal to you until the end. And when your child is born, I shall be loyal to them as well." Hong Yeon smiles sweetly at her whilst gently brushing her hair, putting fragrant powder on the roots as she twists her hair into braids.

"I will always cherish you."

"Your highness?" The court maid stops braiding her thick hair, peering into her eyes inquisitively through the mirror. "Why are you speaking as if you will not be here with me?"

She forces a content smile, having now accepted what she just do for herself, the King and most importantly Jang Bong Hwan, the one who saved them all.

"I might be going on a faraway trip, don't look for me. Just care for my baby and take care of the King." She can tell that the younger woman has many questions on her mind but mostly she seems...saudade; she understands more than she wants to and she's sad but she knows the Queen well enough to know why she must do this.

"I too, will always cherish you. I hope we meet again and I can be by your side once more, it was my greatest achievement."

She hugs the court maid, no her close friend probably one of her best friends. Remembering how eagerly she would follow her around, becoming her confidant and supporter as she found her footing in the palace.

"I hope I meet you in another life." She whispers into Hong Yeon's trembling head, embracing tighter because this is her last time.

The others are not as perceptive as Hong Yeon, but she does notice tears lingering in Court Lady Choi's eyes before she blinks them away.

"Thank you for always nagging me, it made me feel like I finally had a mother. I hope you can find your own happiness now." She knowingly looks over at the royal kitchen, making the older woman blush and turn away.

"Are you going to be okay?" She thinks about the question, and she smiles as she answers, "Yes. I'm going to be happy, I will make sure of it this time." She now knows that she has the power to do so, nothing can control her life besides her.

She sends for her father, hugging him tightly despite his apparent confusion. He's been all she's had for so long, it's her hardest goodbye of all. He will never know she's gone but she will mourn his loss until she takes her last breath.

"Father, I love you. I know everything you did was for my future, I know you made mistakes along the way but I couldn't have asked for a better father. In another life I want to be your daughter again." She cries into his shoulder, childishly gripping the bottom of his robe like she did when she was young and had a nightmare.

He looks at her with wet eyes and a huge grin, chuckling before rubbing her belly and showing her all the new gifts he's brought for his grandchild. She smiles and listens, soaking up all his love and warmth to keep her warm on those lonely days.

Later that night, she presses her palm to her stretched skin she's barely showing now only a minor bump under her clothes. But she can feel the life inside of her, her sweet baby.

"My baby, know that I loved you. That I would do anything to protect you. Please be good to them and have a happy life. I hope we too will meet in another life, you are blessed to have two mothers who adore you. Never want for anything." When she feels light taps at her belly, she grips her belly tighter.

She has no regrets, it's time.

The next day, she goes through her day as expected. Letting her servants serve her and enjoying the breeze from the lake, she takes in the majesty of her life and smiles at the sky.

When night falls, she stealthily rises from her bed donning only socks on her feet to make her steps undetectable, she's already said her goodbyes so there is nothing keeping her back now. Only her fears but she's stronger than she was before, there's no turning back now.

The lake glistens remarkably under the mystical glow of the moon, calling to her like a siren. The water sloshes as she steps into it, hissing at the cold that prickles at her skin before her body adjusts. She keeps walking until the water buoys her off her feet and licks at her collarbone, taking a deep gulp of the night air she plunges her head under the watery sheet. Water burns her lungs as she loses the ability to breathe, resisting her bodies urge to escape.

This time is different, this time she's here to live.

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He goes through the motions of life, but everything feels like a chore. He quits his job, deciding to open a a small restaurant with his savings. His restaurant instantly becomes a fan favorite because of his delicious flavors and affordable prices, he also takes to cooking at a soup kitchen on the weekends. There's a young girl whose innocent smile reminds him of Dam Hyang, he always gives her extra meat with a wink.

That's the only thing brings him joy these days, he had so desperately wanted to be back and now, now he was miserable.

What had he been missing so much? His body? His job? Technology? All of it meant nothing now, it couldn't fill the void in his heart. Nights are the hardest, sleep is elusive and his thoughts race thinking about them- how were they living without him? Was his Cheoljongie able to fall asleep? Did Court Lady Choi and the head chef make it official? Was Hong Yeon doing well? Did they even notice that he was no longer in the body of the Queen or was he already forgotten?

Did he mean anything to them or was he easily replaced by Soyong? Those thoughts haunt him daily and he starts drinking, blacking out every night in a stupor just trying to turn off his brain. But that does nothing to soothe the ache.

He tries to find comfort in others.

Finding willing partners is easy, women throw themselves at him but he's more thoughtful now, no longer seeing them as conquests. He remembers their names and cooks them breakfast in the morning, but he still feels hollow like all of his innards have been scrapped out with a jagged spoon.

So he sleeps with men, gets fucked hard into his bed stifling his moans into pillows trying to feel something, anything. But being taken does nothing, he's still empty even while stuffed full. Nothing compares to him, everyone else falls short and it makes him crazy; he has to move on. One night stand after one stand does nothing to abate the emptiness he feels.

Spending time with his mother brings him solace, she's older so he has to care for her but it's not a chore, he's happy to.

"You seem different these days." He hums as he bathes her, swiping a soapy loofah across her shoulders and wetting her short thin hair.

"How so?" He hasn't mentioned anything to her or anyone, there's no way anyone would believe his story. Sometimes he wonders if it was all a vivid dream that he created to deal with his coma but the proof is in the history book, the one he keeps on his bed side table. A reminder that it was real, that he's not crazy. It's both grounding and soul crushing.

"You're waiting for something." She answers mysteriously, eyes sliding shut as he tips her head back to wash out the shampoo.

He doesn't reply. He's not waiting for anything, there's nothing coming. This is his life now. He's just waiting for the end.

After putting his mother to sleep, he travels back home his body aching, tight from lifting another human. Mentally fatigued from suppressing his feelings all day.

He watches idly as the water fills up the tub, his fingers dancing across the surface before he stops the flow squirting a honey scented bubble bath until the water is foamy. He undresses dropping his clothes carelessly on the ground before dipping one toe into the bath, he groans at the welcoming heat letting the water envelop him fully.

The bubbles tickle his nose as he sits in the tub, his muscles slowly relaxing under the luscious heat. It feels nice. He should be content, he's able to take a warm bath in his lavish apartment that should be enough to raise his spirits.

Tears start pouring from his eyes, he hadn't let himself cry that day that feels like a lifetime ago. Had sucked up all his sadness and loneliness and pushed them in a corner of his mind, but now the corner is exploding and he can't control his emotions. All his walls are crumbling in his mind.

He sobs, choking on air and wiping at the moisture on his face but they are falling too quick for him to catch and he starts to hiccup.

"I'll never see them again. Hong Yeon, Court Lady Choi, head chef, Cheoljong, my baby! It's like I never existed, why did this happen to me? I never asked for any of this!" He screams at his ceiling, he's never been a religious person not wanting to put that much trust in an intangible being in the sky, but if there is some omnipresent being, he curses them for punishing him.

"Why me?" He pounds at the water, shouting when soap splashes back hitting him in the eye. Flailing and attempting to rub it out, he's unaware of how close he is to his shower caddy until his hand hits the metal contraption, causing the suction cup adhering it to the wall to lift and the caddy precariously dangles before loosening and crashing down. Pain explodes in his temple before he slides into the water, excess leaking over the edge and onto the floor. Soapy water fills his lungs until he loses consciousness, everything fading to darkness.

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"Jang Bong Hwan! Wake up! Open your eyes."

A familiar voice penetrates the foggy cloud in his brain, as he struggles to clear mind.

"Please! Wake up. This may be our only chance!"

The voice pleads with him, he feels wispy threads weaving around his mind and finally he starts to force his eyes open, willing his body to follow his commands.

Wake up. Wake up. WAKE UP!!

Bursting free of his prison, he jolts awake looking around wildly shocked to see himself submerged in water far deeper than his tub is capable of holding, everything feels familiar. Eerily so.

Then he glances in front of him and a face he's grown so used to seeing is peering back at him.

"Kim Soyong?" He barely whispers, certain he's having a ridiculously vivid dream.

"This isn't a dream. I've been waiting for you."

He stares at her in shock, in complete disbelief about the situation. What the fuck was going on??

"What the fuck is going on?" He voices his thought, watching as she smiles and swims closer to him.

"I'm bringing you back. I'm giving you back this body." She states confidently, taking his world and knocking it upside down.

"What are you talking about? Everything is back to the way it should be, the King loves you. History changed. Everything is as it should be." He squashes the desperate hope that blooms at her words, nothing was that simple. It simply wasn't their fate to be together.

"Is that how you truly feel? Is everything as it should be? Are you happy?"

Happy. That feeling is foreign to him now. But he has accepted his fate, he was able to help his King that was enough.

"I helped him. That's enough. I can't ask for anything more." He answers honestly, resolve melting as he thinks of his King and his smile.

"He loves you. I thought what I felt for him was love but I know the difference now, love is earned. You earned his love."

The tears start again, he looks at her lost. He doesn't know what to do.

"But you deserve to be happy too. I know everything you went through, I felt it too. I can't let you die because of me, I want you to live Soyong." He cries heart aching for the woman in front of him, she only ever did what she thought she had to. If someone had truly been there for her without any motives, this could have been different.

"I do deserve happiness too." She agrees and his heart jumps because this is it, he'll truly never see Cheoljong again.

"But I won't get it in this universe." Blinking through his tears he stares at her, a sad accepting smile on her face.

"I will always live in your shadows. That is not a true life, I want a fresh start. I deserve a live of my own without any regrets." She swims closer until they are face to face, nose barely grazing as she carresses his cheeks. It's clear what she intends to do, her lips moving closer until only millimeters separate them.

"Take care of him and our baby." She whispers before closing the gap, warm lips pressing against his and then he feels a sharp tug from the center of his stomach lurching him forward and then suddenly backwards.

He's only able to get out two words, "Thank you." Before he's plunged into darkness again.

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He swirls in a sea of nothing for what feels like eternity, locked somewhere he can't escape. He wanders and wanders trying to remember who he is and where he is? The darkness is unchanging and he feels smothered by it, running only to end up back at the same spot. But then he hears a sound, something soft and sweet. A voice, a voice he recognizes but he doesn't know how.

Who is that?

Where am I?

Those questions spin around and around in his head, vicious cycle that leaves him feeling no closer to the truth or the end.

Then he hears another voice, louder and deeper. It's pleading and pained, his heart aches for the agony he can feel and then he feels a sensation, a distant touch and suddenly a door opens in the darkness, light pours into the once desolate room and he rushes to the door, chasing the light. Needing to be closer to that voice and that touch.

His head is throbbing, opening his eyes feels like a splitting headache but he pushes through the pain desperate to see where is he. His eyes are burning but he forces his heavy lids up and sunlight floods his vision, making him wince and shut them once more.

"My Queen?"

It can't be. No. He's dreaming.

He feels a hand wrap around his own, completely cocooning it.

"My Queen! You're finally awake!" The King cries, relief emitting off his body as he clutches him to his chest. His hot tears landing on the thin material covering his shoulder.

Throat scratchy and aching he licks his lips before speaking, "Cheoljongie?"

Immediately the King freezes in his arms, it's so quiet he can hear the crickets outside chirping loudly. The King slowly leans back, his eyes darting all over his face with something that looks like nervous wonder.

"What did you call me?" He whispers, his eyes wide.

"Cheoljongie!" He screams suddenly throwing himself into his King's arms, which are loose at first but then they become rib straining tight but he doesn't care, he needs this hug more than he needs air.

The King breaks them apart grabbing his face ardently, "Is it really you? Jang Bong Hwan?" His name sounds foreign on his tongue and now it's his turn to be speechless.

"You kn-kn-know my name? You know who I am?" He stutters incredulously, feeling the tears streaming from his eyes but this time doing nothing to stop them.

"I know everything. I know you're a man from the future, you were telling the truth. You always told me the truth."

He feels steamrolled, pressed out and flattened by this discovery. He knew that and he was still here hugging him? It didn't make sense.

"How do you feel? About the truth?" It's not an easy question to ask but he needs to know the answer, there are in a different time now. Cheoljong hadn't said such when he had explained to him that sexuality was more fluid in the future, people were allowed to express themselves in many ways. There was no right or wrong way to love.

It was a nice sentiment, but this was a Joseon period. Everything was different here.

"I love you."

He's not expecting that answer and he stares with his mouth open, feeling himself being drawn into a tighter hug his small body slotting perfectly into Cheoljong's. It's unnerving and familiar being this much smaller than him again.

"I love you so much. I don't care what form you take, I'll love you every single time." He growls the last words, rumbling between their bodies.

He's never said these words out loud to anyone but his mother, but he knows that he means it. He's never wanted to say them to anyone before but now he can't wait, he's bursting with it.

"I love you too. Life was empty without you, I was walking in an endless desert. You are my oasis." They stare at each other passionately, the King's fingers warm on his cheeks as he clutches at his royal robes. They gravitate towards each other as their lips meet and the universe rights itself. He moans at the sensation of having his King's lips back on his, the kiss tethers into frantic in mere seconds. All of their longing and heartache colluding as they slam into each other.

Their tongue slide and twist around each other, he nibbles at the King's lip letting him lick at his open mouth gasping as a hand grips the nape of his neck.

He grabs the King's hair pulling him closer so he can plunge his tongue deeper, swallowing his hardy groans and letting some breathy moans escape from his bruised lips. It's going to take some getting used to, being so slight once more, whimpering as the King easily manhandles him pushing him back onto the bedding and bracketing him in his powerful arms.

The move knocks his head into the floor, momentarily dazing him as a soft "Oof," falls from his lips.

The King reacts immediately, drawing away with concern pouring from his face.

"I apologize my Que...en I was too eager, you've just woken from a vegetative state. Now is not the appropriate time for such.... activities. I will control myself." He notices the King's hesitation as he pauses while saying the title which has become something more for them.

"It's okay. You can still call me that it means too much to me now and I don't want you to be careful. I've spent all this time feeling alone and empty, trying to find other," now he hesitates and the King's eyes widen and then scowl in comprehension, "Means to feel alive. It was all futile, nothing compared to you."

The declaration does little to douse the jealousy he can feel surging off his King, he almost purrs in response. Excited. Electrified.

"I will make you forget about all others. My name is the only that will fall from these lips," Cheoljong rubs a large thumb across the his full bottom lip, seductively. "I missed you so much and I'll show you just how much."

"I spent so much time hoping to get back to my dragon, only to miss yours too much to enjoy my own. It's sad isn't it?" He pouts reaching out boldly to grab the King's thick cock peeking through his layers.

The King smirks, crawling over him before lifting up his dress easily and lowering his undergarments with a swift tug.

"My dragon missed you immensely, it's time to get reacquainted. " Cheoljong warns before slipping into his body without preamble, he shouts and tightens at the intrusion.

Every cell in his body feels alive and buzzing.

They get acquainted all night, into the wee hours of the morning hoarse shouts filling Daejajoen hall as all the court ladies blush and cover their faces bashfully. Hong Yeon smiles knowingly at Court Lady Choi, both with matching 'earmuffs' the Queen had gifted them long ago.

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"Mr. Jang, can you hear me? Mr. Jang?" She struggles to regain conscious as a light is shined into both of her eyes, blinking wildly she turns her head away trying to escape the bright glare.

"I apologize. I had to check your pupils. How are you feeling? You've been in a coma for three days. We were very worried since you had been comatose just a month prior. It's not good for the human brain to be in that state several times." She listens absently to the doctor(?) too fascinated by all the unfamiliar things surrounding her.

There's a strange machine beeping away next to her and something attached to her arm, her eyes bulge at her arm, it is larger thick with muscles she's never had before. She flexes and watches entranced as her arm gets even bigger.

"Mr.Jang, are you okay?" Finally she glances over at the feminine voice, clipped and professional but a tinge of genuine concern.

She's gorgeous, a round face and wide almond eyes that are scanning something in her hands, she has thick hair that is held up in a topknot with tendrils framing her face and her lips are succulent and rosy red, she feels blood rushing to her nether regions. When the doctor notices her staring she puts down the thing in her hands, to meet her gaze head on.

"Mr. Jang?" She finally realizes that's her name, Jang Bong Hwan.

"What's your name?" She feels compelled to ask as if this is the most important question she'll ever utter, something tugs in her stomach as they stare at each other.

"Dr. Won Beom."

She smiles.

Author's note: This will be my canon moving forward in my future untouchable updates, I'll also be incorporating a love story behind Director Hong and Kim Hwan because they are the sweetest beans and I feel like they can get great advice on their relationship from our King and Queen. 🥴😉 I was very selfish with this fix-it I don't want to let go of my Joseon family, so we're staying here instead. 

[ask-iamnotanalicorn]

Previous: The Flim Flam Timeline

The Wasteland Timeline:

This is the story of when Equestria fell.

And this it the story of when Equestria rose again.

The trials began as they always do: with the return of Nightmare Moon. The celestial sisters clashed, and Celestia fell. Heedless of the struggle it would be to keep the Sun set with its alicorn princess banished inside it, Nightmare Moon did just that, determined that her traitorous sister experience Nightmare’s punishment.

Nightmare’s reign of Equestria was strained, but Equestria could have borne it. But within a year, the capital was attacked by the Changelings, desperate to replenish their stores of pony love that had been stymied by the nation’s state of fear and uncertainty. Nightmare Moon was barely managing to repel the threat when the Crystal Empire returned, and King Sombra began to march on her northern borders. With attacks from within and attacks from without, a distrusted leader on the throne, and economic failure rippling across the country as readily as the shifting front lines, the ponies of Equestria were more torn than ever.

So of course that’s when Discord escaped.

The upside of Discord’s release was that it temporarily stopped the fighting. Even King Sombra was smart enough to withdraw in the face of the mad draconequus on a quest of vengeance against all ponies. Queen Chrysalis and Queen Nightmare Moon (who had absconded herself at first sign of Discord’s escape, using every possible trick to keep him from finding her) formed a temporary peace treaty in order to seek a solution - for a world ruled by Discord was useless to all of them. (Granted, the Changelings could withdraw to their protected realm, but Chrysalis had tasted power and wasn’t about to let Discord have it all. She was quite looking forward to stabbing Nightmare Moon in the back afterwards.)

Their solution: a magical contract with the long-imprisoned centaur, Tirek. Tirek was more than happy to oblige. He single-handedly decimated Sombra’s troops, gorging himself on the magic of Crystal Empire and Equestrian ponies alike. It is possible that, if Discord hadn’t come to see what all the fuss was about himself, Tirek would have kept right on gorging to the very limit of the contract that bound him.

When the two titans clashed, the battle that ensued sundered hundreds of miles of landscape. Canterlot bore the greatest brunt; the castle collapsed completely from its cliffside home, the city little more than ruins. Discord’s attacks spread wildly unpredictable waves of chaos magic across much of Equestria. And when at long last Tirek had defeated him and sucked him dry, the lingering effects of that chaos magic stayed rooted in the ground like weeds.

It seemed, for the briefest moment, as if the worst problem was over. But of course, a power-maddened Tirek is a worse threat - because at least Discord doesn’t go out of his way to destroy everything in sight. Drunk on chaos magic, Tirek easily broke the tenuous contract with the queens and set across the landscape, draining ponies by the thousands and carving swaths through the countryside for the sheer wicked joy of destruction. His power was even mighty enough to destroy the changeling hive, overpowering its magical protections.

There was no choice - the two remaining rulers of any species in the land had to either defeat their own creation or face the loss of all they held dear. Nightmare Moon called upon the power of the Moon itself, drawing it nearer to Equestria in a desperate gambit. Tidal waves rocked Equestria’s coastlines, submerging Manehattan and other coastal cities entirely, and the alicorn of the night shone with deadly moonlit radiance as she bombarded Tirek with the full brunt of her power. But even Nightmare Moon at the height of her power was not strong enough to stop Tirek at the height of his, and he struck her down against the surface of the Moon itself. Some of the dislodged chunks rained down on the world, damaging more of not only Equestria, but many other countries on that side of the planet.

Tirek seemed to have won; all he had left to deal with was one small, angry changeling queen. An assured victory, no doubt.

He could not have known how wrong he was. For a changeling might give its magic willingly to a spell like Tirek’s with no ill effects, but an unwilling changeling queen will not be robbed of her power easily. As Tirek’s powers drain magic, so changeling powers drain love - and no one in all the world had such self-love as Tirek. The cycle of Tirek draining her magic and Chrysalis draining his became a self-consuming spell spiral that ultimately imploded upon itself, taking both creatures with it.

The resulting explosion could be heard across the celestial sea. For a few moments, there was something like an artificial sun on the horizon - a sun that had set directly on Equestria.

Then came the silence. After three years of war, devastation, and disasters unlike any the world had ever seen, there was silence.

And as the silence stretched, the survivors stirred.

Earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns, crystal ponies, and zebras; yaks, cows, goats, donkeys, and buffalo; gryphons, dragons, hippogryphs, minotaurs, and changelings: in spite of everything, many had survived. They rose from their hiding places to find an Equestria and Crystal Empire in ruins. No major cities still stood; borders and coastlines were unrecognizable. Large swaths of land once green and lush were barren and blasted, and spots of chaos magic lay in wait for creatures unwise enough to enter them unprotected. The moon hung wrecked in a dark sky, shining in shattered glory down on the devastation that had been the once-rich land of Equestria.

But the great destroyers were gone. None of the titans and tyrants who had brought this destruction down on the country remained. The usual monsters hardly seemed a threat anymore; those who had survived thus far had learned to cope with far worse. They could build new settlements, make new ways of life, come together or fall apart on their own merits.

And the most hopeful sign of all came the next day. The first actual day since Nightmare Moon returned and the Thousand Days of Woe began:

The Sun - weak and red in the dust-filled sky - slowly rose over the horizon.

The Princess of the Sun had not returned yet; perhaps she is still trapped by her sister’s spell. Perhaps another way of escape is being laid. But the light fills the ponies’ hearts with hope.

The Equestria they knew is gone. But the New Equestria has a future.

____

Sunday, Aug.10, 4 A.C.

Dear Journal,

It’s really strange dating things this way; but with everything that’s happened, most folks agree it’ll be easier to date our calendars starting with the fall of Princess Celestia. ‘After Celestia’ sounds so grim, though; kinda hope we change it. Maybe when the Princess returns... we’re praying she does.

Anyway, I still can’t believe we found a whole stock of blank paper in the storerooms! We’re saving most of it for bartering, but Mom thinks it’s smart for one of us to make notes for posterity, so it looks like I get to keep you. I’ll try to be short to save space, but it just feels so good to write again!

The move into the Canterlot ruins ruins is going pretty well. A few other families joined us after our last trip to Apple Fort, and we’ve shored up our defenses in case the air pirates make another flyby. Pop and I negotiated a deal with the Apples - food in exchange for books. A few of the unicorns know replication spells and are using some of the paper to make copies of really important texts so we don’t lose valuable knowledge to an accident. It still blows my mind how much we’ve lost in... was life really normal only a few years ago? It feels like another lifetime that I was in this very city, talking to the Princess, sitting at a normal cafe... eating lunch with Cam and Press...

I don’t want to forget them. Camera Shy and Pressing Matters, my best friends. Maybe they’re still out there somewhere. We run into old friends every now and then - my old traveling salespony gig has come in handy, actually! I’ve found a bunch of people who used to be clients, it really helps with forming trade and peace treaties with other groups. So it could happen. Please, Prince, keep them safe wherever they are.

I’m really blessed, though. I have to remember that. I have Mom and Pop and Black and Per and Chewie - although I’m still not used to Chewie flying and talking now. She’s such a character. Lots of ponies are missing family - so are we, we haven’t been able to find most of the extended family, but Pop got word from Aunt Pitter that she and my cousin Light Drizzle are out west somewhere, and Pitch Apple is down at Apple Fort, thank the King.

And we could be worse! We made friends with a tinkerer named Steam Punk, he made me a new wing that works as good as my old one! (Not a HUGE bar to cross, but it’s still really impressive!) I’m talking him into working with me to start a production house that can make and sell them affordably to other handicapped pegasi. And Mom got her flight back thanks to a gem Black and some other mages crafted. I think she still misses her diving mark, but she’s so brave and optimistic, it really inspires everyone. I wish we could do something for Pop’s horn, but he’s finding other ways to help out. Per is... well, I guess if you’re going to get turned into a pony-dragon, you’d want to be as cheerful about it as Per. Who knows, maybe she’ll still get a cutie mark someday! And Black is fully aware that he looks pretty boss with an eyepatch, the dork. 

There’s rumors that Princess Cadance might be alive and organizing the crystal ponies up North; lots of ponies are heading that way, but I think our group will stay here. There’s a lot of resources in the Canterlot ruins and in the castle, although Black leads the expeditions into the castle because of safety issues. I never knew he was so good at exploration and such; guess there were a few skills he was holding out on us over the years, but turns out he was working for the Princess before! What in Equus, I gave him such an earful for being all secretive about being my bodyguard or whatever. 

I’m running out of page, so I’ll wrap up today. We’re holding a worship service later, Pop and Parson Brown are setting it up. We want to keep focusing on what we have to be thankful for. We are GOING to get through this. The King, the Prince, and the Advocate have not abandoned us, and we have each other. 

~Salespitch

----

Fun Facts About The Wasteland Timeline:

- This was my favorite timeline to draw =D I HAD to get some steampunk stuff in there, although there are definitely Mad Max vibes. The convenient thing about this timeline is that it was a literal blank slate, so I could really get creative with it! I feel like this would make a neat bookmark, what do ya’ll think?

- I tried to reference all the major villains in the picture. Extra shoutout to ReversalMushroom, the patron who sponsored this Alternate Timeline Special, for giving me the ideas for the changeling goo and Tirek’s hoofprints, which were added in during the coloring phase. I think they round it out quite nicely!

- The random bit of Candy Forest over the crevice there is one of the pockets left behind by Discord’s chaos magic going wild. Most ponies avoid it because here’s WEIRD stuff in there, and ponies who go in there usually come out a little weirder themselves. 

- Black lost his eye and half his sunglasses in a fight with some Changelings. He gets on quite well with only one eye, though, and he insists his sunglass-lens eyepatch is going to be the height of eyepatch fashion. (He DOES have a sense of humor in case anyone doubted it. ;) ) Black taught everyone basic survival techniques and does most of the more dangerous tasks.

- Sales lost his wing during Tirek’s rampage; he tried to distract Tirek, but they didn’t have time to make the plan from the Tirek timeline, so he got swatted pretty quickly. On the upside, Tirek lost sight of him and didn’t get his magic. Sales can fly about as well now with his new steampunk wing, which combines technology and magic to mimic low-level pegasus flight (which was where he was at anyway, so he made a great first test subject!) Sales’ main job is  negotiating peaceful trades with other groups.

- Sales Patter (Dad) lost his horn while pushing his wife out of the way of some falling rubble. He insists he was only mediocre at magic anyway, and he doesn’t need a horn to do business! He does miss it, though. He helps their new community with allocating resources.

- Pitch Forward (Mom) lost her magic and cutie mark to Tirek’s onslaught. The gem in her coat simulates flight for her, although not quite at the level she was before. She and Sales joke about how he can almost beat her in a race now. She helps with the kids in their small community and teaches flying techniques to pegasi.

- Pitch Perfect got hit with a random blast of Discord magic that turned her half dragon. It took a little getting used to, but she honestly thinks it is super neat. She’s pretty good at sniffing out gems now, which (when she isn’t eating them) helps with family finances. Her friends Codebreak and Castle Crasher are part of their little community, and the three are constantly getting into trouble (which most everyone silently thinks of as a nice bit of familiarity.)

- Chewie ALSO got Discord’d; she has fairy wings now and she can talk. Chewie still likes Sales the best and hovers around him chattering like Navi half the time. The other half of the time she forgets she has wings and just hops around exploring. At this point she’s become less like a pet and more like another tiny sister, to Per’s delight and everyone else’s raised anxiety levels. She is VERY aware of her surroundings and alerts the group to intruders and strangers. She really misses computer games.

- Princess Celestia will eventually return, although by that time I feel that the various groups gathering together will have formed something like a decent society again. It remains to be seen if they’ll go back to a monarchy, create a government of connected micronations, or turn into something like the United States.

- And yes, Camera Shy, Pressing Matters, and Press’s husband Curler are all alive. They’ll meet up someday!

---

A/N: Thank you all for joining me on this journey through time and space to explore the seven MLP timelines and where Sales & Co might have ended up in them! I hope you enjoyed it; I had a good bit of fun coming up with the different scenarios, it was a great brain exercise. =D Thank you again to all my Patrons, and to ReversalMushroom for sponsoring this particular special! There will be a final post next week of all the pictures together, with links back to their storyline posts.

I also want to thank you for bearing with me as the regular updates continue to be on hiatus. This has been a rough and strange year for all of us, and I hope you all are safe and healthy and know that you are loved. Jesus has really been with me through this year, and even tonight as I write this; there are things I struggle with, but I know that they do not define my value, HE does. =) And I, like Sales, want to count my blessings, the biggest one (aside from my faith in God) being that I have family around me who love me and care for me. I’m very much looking forward to Christmas! =D  

Merry Christmas! May your Christmas and New Year contain joy and peace, and may Christ Jesus rest His hands on you and draw your heart to His. In Jesus’ Name, amen.

~River Babble

[moonaft]

When Sorrows Come reactions

Spoilers: I did not get bingo.

25 squares, from left to right, top to bottom: 1. Malvic appears at the wedding 2. Sylvester attends the wedding 3. The High King or Queen gets elfshot 4. One of Tybalt's enemies from the short stories appears 5. Hope chests are relevant 6. Something is revealed about the False Queen 7. There's at least 3 Firstborn at the wedding 8. Someone calls Toby a kingbreaker 9. Dianda punches someone important 10. Toby drinks someone else's blood 11. August attends the wedding 12. Hirsent crashes the wedding 13. [Free space] Toby's dress gets blood on it 14. One of Tybalt's friends from the short stories appears 15. Eira is behind the trouble 16. Gillian attends the wedding 17. Lore about the Torquill family 18. Quentin's identity gets revealed 19. Sylvester doesn't attend the wedding 20. Someone mistakes Sylvester for Simon 21. Raysel's plotline moves forward 22. Toby learns about Tybalt's short story past 23. Someone gets elfshot for the second or third time 24. Toby insults nobility we haven't seen before 25. Lore about the Sollys family

Date: April 11, 2015, roughly 6 months after A Killing Frost. No mischief occurred around Christmas 2014.

Are nobles seriously inviting the kingbreaker in order to make contact with her mother who she pissed off during the divorce? Have they been paying attention at all?

Technically, Toby has never committed treason. She definitely didn’t commit treason against Rhys because she never swore loyalty to him. 

I think this is the first book that introduced Simon ahead of Sylvester and described Sylvester as Simon’s brother as opposed to the other way around. Sylvester is still on thin ice, by the way. There’s a reason I have both “Sylvester attends the wedding” and “Sylvester doesn’t attend the wedding” on the bingo card.

The Luidaeg denied Sylvester’s request to wake Raysel up - why? Did she want to get the wedding out of the way before Raysel’s trial and October’s next rolling emergency?

Yes, the Quentin problem when getting married at the High King’s knowe. Don’t change his appearance and everyone knows where the Crown Prince is fostered. Do change his appearance and everyone in Toby’s party now knows who the Crown Prince is.

“Dean Lorden is probably technically my brother now” woot.

Toby is voluntarily eating and drinking! After so many books of having food forced of her because she keeps forgetting to do so.

Confirmation that Toby officially owns her place and Luna can’t get Sylvester to reverse that decision.

Dean kissing a strange boy -> ah, they went with changing Quentin’s appearance and bloodline. And they went to the Luidaeg for it. Banshee, huh?

Poor Dean. Toby’s approval means something to him. And Toby continues to eat, good for her.

Yes, I too would love to know more about Sylvester’s Dark Years. Sylvester POV, when?

Dean has now officially heard that Oberon is back, and isn’t reacting. I have to assume the Lordens know the details behind how they broke August’s curse.

Oh Quentin, I love you.

Dean still thinks the Merrow descend from only Titania, but Pete confirmed in The Unkindest Tide that Oberon is her father.

Dean does not understand the value of landlines. Kids these days...

I had not considered that Toby and Tybalt’s wedding would be a historic event.

Surprise wedding date! It really couldn’t have been any other way.

Yes, who would have told Sylvester about the date?

Yep, calling Bridget and Etienne is the best option. And Etienne knows May didn’t tell Toby the date, interesting.

Dammit, Sylvester. I can’t cross that square off yet, he might redeem himself. And Etienne talking sense into Toby!

Did the fae make their kingdoms based on state borders? The West at least was based on SCA kingdoms and principalities. I wonder if Highmountain has a new Crown yet.

Good to know that Oberon can go where ever he wants in Faerie. He could probably bring Riordan back if he wanted to. Is Danny not coming? I can’t say I blame him.

Jazz knows about Oberon too.

I do hope August shows up at the wedding, it’s on my bingo card.

Huh, I knew that Ash and Oak aka New York was a place without fae these days, but I assumed some purebloods and changelings could still live there. Uncomfortably, perhaps, and maybe you couldn’t anchor a knowe there anymore, but I didn’t think it was actively hostile to every fae.

Hey, is that Lowri and Nolan? Nolan’s on guard duty, interesting.

Yes, the Ludiaeg could have married you at any time. Should have thought of that before everyone started offering you their knowe for the wedding.

Oh good they’re bringing Walther.

Makes sense Arden can’t come but she is sending Nolan. Nolan definitely is enjoying life these days.

Confirmation that Madden’s boyfriend is human and doesn’t know about the fae.

“I can go order her to arrest herself, if you’d like” Love it.

I have to assume the Tuatha Express is faster than air travel and not as tiring for the people who aren’t opening portals.

Nessa, the Gwragedd Annwn, a new species. As pretty as the Daoine Sidhe are to a nearly human Toby, wow.

And... she thinks the Luidaeg is Toby? I hope this isn’t a calculated insult. I know Quentin grew up with some bigoted people but this is deliberate.

And Oberon is apparently Tybalt?? What is going on her?

Kerry! We haven’t seen you since A Local Habitation. ‘There are no bad Dayes in this week” aww. I love you, Kerry.

Beacon’s Home is actually a Kingdom and not a Selkie-now-Roane holding? Cool.

It seems important that the Maples vs Ash and Oak decision was happening right before/during the American Revolution but I don’t know why yet.

“The ducal consorts are Daoine Sidhe”, yep both of them. 

“Sweet Titania, I love that woman [Dianda Lorden]” Still waiting for Toby’s bisexual awakening.

The Luidaeg confirms the Gwragedd Annwn are Black Annie’s descendant line.

Quentin confirms something’s wrong with Nessa, maybe she isn’t like this at all.

Whee, slightly more Stacy weirdness. I think Barrow Wights would be descended from Maeve, her illusions shouldn’t be better than Toby’s.

Tybalt is apparently descended from both Oberon and the Luidaeg, if his line comes from the Cait Sidhe Malvic sired with his Roane lover.

Confirmation that the Luidaeg can see the future, at least some of the time.

At least Aethlin and Maida seem happy to see Toby.

Maida doesn’t recognize Cass’s bloodline - interesting.

“Um, my boss is Queen Windermere, and my [human] graduate advisor is Professor Weinstein, and my parents are Mitch and Stacy Brown” Cass I love you.

Oh, Nessa isn’t Nessa.

Not!Nessa, holding Toby at knifepoint is not the detergent you think it is.

Toby has a new knife now, sweet. Not!Nessa is a Doppelganger, we haven’t seen one of those in several years. The one in Rosemary and Rue, who wasn’t Gillian?

“Archers,” “I was right about that?”

Perhaps Toby shouldn’t be the one giving orders to open portals, but Aethlin clearly isn’t doing it.

“I punched it in the face” Why do I have the feeling that’s going to solve a lot of problems in this book? And hey, this isn’t a Firstborn or Queen, so Toby got her wish of punching more punchable people.

“You don’t have the authority to order an arrest in my knowe.” Well, maybe you should give her that authority, High King of the Westlands who was almost assassinated.

“Purebloods forgot things, quickly, when they can’t see them anymore” Interesting.

“And even in a backwater Ducky run by a politically unambitious man” Shadowed Hills predates the Mists, Sylvester really just went as far as he could. Or maybe settled there once Amandine built her tower.

“Is he going to try to stab me? Is he better at stabbing than the last batch was at shooting arrows”? I love you Raj. I wonder if the local King of Cats will make an appearance.

Ah fuck, first dead body.

Toby having the most sense in this scene, I love it.

Did Aethlin basically make Toby a hero of the Westlands as well? “Our visiting hero”

Aethlin is not showing up well in dealing with security, nor are his guards.

“People who put deadly traps on doorknobs often forget the obvious, which is that it’s a good idea to lock doors.”

Three dead bodies? RIP Aethlin’s guards.

Only two dead bodies so far. Once Broken Faith had 4, I believe, but we’re only a third done. Good job on not dying, Caitir.

Gordon, hello. I thought the reference to ALH in the “books to re-read” was about the nighthaunts but didn’t expect to see her.

Looks like neither Nessa nor Honey are dead.

This poor Ellyllon doctor, welcome to Toby’s world.

Ah fuck, Tybalt’s elf-shot again.

Good thing Caitir’s a Candela. Thank you, Raj.

Jazz is apparently betting that Toby’s getting elfshot before/during the wedding, this is a girl after my own heart. As is May.

Walther has a fan, I love it.

The Bridge Trolls can search for clues if they want, I guess. We don’t need to worry about people messing with the crime scene anymore.

Toby’s sweet talking the knowe, that didn’t take long.

Toby, Quentin is never going to leave you behind even when he’s knighted and moves back home. He would sooner move the capital to SF.

Evening got her hooks into Aethlin back in 1906, huh?

“I am the breaker of the unbreakable” Yes you are, Toby.

Black Annis was originally named Ismere? I love the lore we’re getting in this book.

There are rumors that Quentin is Toby’s squire, probably started after OBF. The Beacon’s Home Selkies knew about him, after all.

All the Maeve descendant lines with dead Firstborn imprint on the Luidaeg, this is so cute.

So many reasons why Tybalt shouldn’t go looking for Toby as she walks up. Tybalt’s back!

Nolan is great, I love him. Aethlin’s reassuring Nessa, glad to see it.

How does Fiac know enough about Simon and Amandine’s marriage to have negative feelings about it? It sounds like he was around them to notice it.

The Doppelganger isn’t bringing the Revolution, what a pity.

Fuck, she can’t kill Aethlin now. Damn.

This is exactly the scene I wanted to see with a different Daoine Sidhe, but fine. The guards need more training.

Eira killed other seers than the Roane, did she? Did she want there to be no one who could guess her plans?

Toby thinks Maida is upset with her, while I think Maida thinks Toby is the only one she can trust.

Why do none of the Daoine Sidhe save Simon specialize in blood magic? They all suck at it.

“We need to interview your entire staff, and by ‘we’ I mean ‘you’, and by ‘you’ I mean ‘someone you trust’“ Toby’s got this under control.

“I’m sorry, was that disrespectful? I meant fuck you, Your Majesty.” Quentin is not holding back. Chelsea and Raj are literally eating popcorn while watching this. Despite what Toby thinks, she has a court of teenagers.

I wonder what the series would have been like if Penny was sent to Shadowed Hills with Quentin.

I’m glad Quentin got the chance to yell at his father, he needed it. Look, family drama that isn’t related to Toby!

Walther: “I carry the base ingredients [of elfshot] whenever I travel with Sir Daye.” I would too, Walther.

...Are the rest of Stacy’s kids also Seers?

Oberon exists to be more than background, apparently.

Confirmation that the Luidaeg is a century older than Eira! And the Luidaeg will know if she wakes up.

Yes, Toby gets her own court with all her squires and also brothers. Quentin, Raj, one day Chelsea, Peter if he can convince Toby to do it. She has two Seers, an alchemist and her favorite aunts and family in Saltmist.

So the Summerlands have suns as well as moons.

Oh hey, Julie, I thought you died off screen. We haven't heard from you in several books. They’re getting the band back toge- the High King got poisoned?!

“For example, it would be really unreasonable of him to die right now, thanks.”

“If this is where you want to suddenly remember the High King’s evil grand vizier who you just forgot to tell us about until now, that would be great.”

I thought Maida’s father was still alive?

Aethlin has survived his third assassination attempt in the past 24 hours, sweet.

Why did the Librarian call Fiac the Seneschal? He’s the Court Seer.

Oh, so Toby did settle her debts with Mag about her mom’s biography.

We’ve met Tybalt the Torquill family historian, now meet Yenay Ng, the Tybalt historian.

OK, I... didn’t see that coming.

I approve of Toby punching former King Shallcross in the nose. She should punch more nobles on screen.

Huh, I guess that’s where Eira was before she showed up in the Mists.

Is this guy Dawn’s father? The timelines sorta fit.

Aethlin has managed to not get poisoned or stabbed again, good for him.

Of course they enchanted the wedding dress to not get covered in blood. Good thing my ‘free’ space on the bingo card was “Toby’s dress gets blood on it” which was technically fulfilled with the first dress.

I assumed “wine-colored” meant white until it was described in more detail. I approve of dressing the wedding party in red - it will hide the blood.

Sylvester?!? Nope, Simon.

Aww, Simon gets to walk his daughter to the altar. He gets to see his daughter married!

“Then go. Get married. Be happy. You’ve earned it.”

And the wedding is finally on! The local Cait Sidhe are here! Surprise appearance by August!

“As did the man who looked heart-stoppingly like Simon Torquill, but absolutely wasn’t” Oh Sylvester, you made it after all.

I think this is the first time Sylvester’s been referred to in terms of Simon rather than the other way around.

Whoops, more assassins.

I see you, Simon, using your blood to fuel your transformation spells, just like your daughter. Followed immediately by Sylvester charging into battle. And Oberon continues to be background scenery.

Another guard’s death - 3 now? Maybe more?

“Now I have a longbow, motherfuckers, ho, ho, ho” Love you, May.

Badly attempted jailbreak is a bust. Toby’s dress remains pristine.

Surprise appearance by Gillian! I assume August tackled her to the ground when the arrows started flying.

Wedding is complete! Reception go!

I assume Etienne was instrumental in getting Sylvester to the wedding, not only physically but also by yelling at him about what an idiot he was.

Etienne is a little younger than Tybalt, good to know.

They’re going to Disney world without the kids, neat. Surprise August again! Good to know Helen’s seeing a therapist.

Galen has a crush on Poppy. I love this man that we will probably never see again.

Why is Simon a Count again? Shouldn’t he also be Duke Lorden? Does he get a lower title because he’s the second husband, like a courtesy title? Also, glad to see him and August being Lordens.

She hugged him!

Oh hey Sylvester. You could have started with “You make a beautiful bride” and avoided a shitton of trouble. You made it all about yourself. It’s better than if you didn’t attend at all, but man, Sylvester. You disappointed Toby and me.

“Once and future King of Cats”

She accepts the Lorden boys as her brothers!

What does Cliff think of Gilly spending so much time at Half Moon Bay? Does he think she’s in a cult?

Aw, May and Jazz are going to get married!

Oh hey Pete. Only two Firstborn at the wedding, can’t mark that one off. Nice blessing!

That cake sounds super delicious. Fuck, did Oberon give his knife to Toby and then not take it back? Toby has a replacement for her iron knife now?

Oh hi, Gilly. Your mother’s really excited to have you here. I love Quentin egging Toby into eating the cake. “Quentin pressed a fork into my hand, trying to urge me to get on with it.”

And the final blessing comes from Aethlin. He has got to do something to thank her for all her help in stopping the assassination attempts.

Afterthoughts: I am sad none of Tybalt’s friends and family from London/Europe attended. Morane was alive as of 1911, with no word on the others. Hermeline, if she’s still ruling in the Court of Fogbound Cats, has been ruling for nearly three hundred years.

On the other hand, we got a ton of Toby feels and secondary characters. Love the reactions of the Teen Squad.

What a good and heartwarming book.

Spots crossed off:

2. Sylvester attends the wedding 8. Someone calls Toby a kingbreaker 10. Toby drinks someone else's blood 11. August attends the wedding 13. [Free space] Toby's dress gets blood on it 16. Gillian attends the wedding 18. Quentin's identity gets revealed 22. Toby learns about Tybalt's short story past 23. Someone gets elfshot for the second or third time 24. Toby insults nobility we haven't seen before 25. Lore about the Sollys family

Spots not crossed off:

1. Malvic appears at the wedding 3. The High King or Queen gets elfshot 4. One of Tybalt's enemies from the short stories appears 5. Hope chests are relevant 6. Something is revealed about the False Queen 7. There's at least 3 Firstborn at the wedding 9. Dianda punches someone important 12. Hirsent crashes the wedding 14. One of Tybalt's friends from the short stories appears 15. Eira is behind the trouble 17. Lore about the Torquill family 19. Sylvester doesn't attend the wedding 20. Someone mistakes Sylvester for Simon 21. Raysel's plotline moves forward

I should note some of these are rather literal - Eira caused trouble in the back story but she wasn’t active in the main story like she was in both The Unkindest Tide (telling Torin to stop the restoration of the Roane) and A Killing Frost (taunting Toby).

[saturnsstufff]

Misfortune

credit to @vixenfoxpup​ this is her work, all characters belong to her.

Warnings: Character death

Misfortune.

    It happens to absolutely everyone at least once in their lives. Whether it be the loss of a beloved’s life, of one’s own life, or the worst luck that one can imagine, it has affected everyone in the world.

    Well, what if misfortune was given by one being? But not by their own will? What if misfortune was the very culmination of the one forced to bestow it upon others? Would you then pity the one who had to force their gift upon others? Or would you still resent them with all your might, wishing terrible events to happen upon them, because of something they cannot control?

    Maybe she can answer these questions, through a look into her past, present, and what is to come for her. 

    Introducing, Rahni.

    The young immortal had beauty beyond compare, with locks of curly, blossom pink hair, soft gray eyes, rosy skin, and a smile that could brighten anyone’s mood.

    This is the woman who built her kingdom, brick by brick, inch by inch, day after day. For nearly three hundred years, the woman single handedly made her empire one to remember, with the fire made blue by those who have wronged her, and who she had slaughtered. She built her empire in the coldest of lands, to ensure that any mortal who trespassed there would not survive unless she granted it.

    She ruled there with a mighty, yet kind, hand. Every day, she would mingle with and befriend her subjects, granting them each their daily needs, whether it be advice or material items, such as food and warmth, in the freezing air. This went on for generations, the empire living without war due to how generous Rahni was with other kingdoms, them being unable to find reason to attack the Arctic Empire.

    Until, one man showed up. A stranger who had managed to survive the frozen wasteland and, what was rumored to be enchanted, forest that surrounded the empire, and when he was confronted with about what his purpose was for being in the empire, he simply said, “To see Her Majesty, myself, and see if she truly is the ruler she is put up to be.”

    This angered her loyal subjects, offended by how someone could doubt their ruler’s authority, and caused them to notify the empire’s guards, arresting him. Word got around to the Queen and soon she summoned him in her throne room, due to her curiosity. The man presented himself by the name of Zieran, and he had come from another kingdom, to study how her own functions. 

    This surprised the queen, and out of pure curiosity she granted Zieran permission to live and study in her land, as long as he stayed in her palace.

    Over the course of the next few years, Zieran learned more and more not just about the empire’s economy and system, but about Rahni, herself. How she would always visit her townsfolk, communed with her palace servants, and laughed with her guards. He learned that she never treated those that were below her authority as such, instead lowering herself in front of them, and when he asked those she spoke to about it, they simply stated that it was impossible not to treat her as an old friend every time she came to them.

    Soon enough, Rahni and Zieran began to become closer, when Rahni requested that he shared his studies with her each week, so she could verify if what he had found was true. She eventually realized that everything that he found was indeed factual, but she still called for these meets, as an excuse to see the tall man each week. Soon each week turned to twice a week, to every other day, to every day. The two were inseparable, soon falling in love. They were then wed, years into the ordeal.

    The new king and queen continued to rule for years on end, Rahni sharing her youth with Zieran, not making him immortal, but so that he aged tremendously slower. Together they colonized new lands, allianced with more kingdoms, and were infamous for their good deeds to their people and others.

    ...Alas, it was never meant to be.

    One evening, Rahni had walked into her chambers to witness an assassin in the act of murdering her husband. In a fit of rage, she annihilated their soul, before rushing to her husband, who died in her arms that day.

    The village rarely saw their ruler after that day, for she never spoke to anyone outside the palace, and those that she did speak to only had short, curt conversations with her. She continued to grieve for her king, but that was merely the beginning of her history with misfortune, and how it would forever affect her future.

    “M’lady?”

    Rahni lifted her head from her hands, having been in deep concentration, focusing on her royal reports and proclamations from neighboring kingdoms. She had just started reading a letter from the fellow god and emperor, Rio, before she saw that one of her head guards was at the door to her office.

    “Yes, sir?”

    “You see, ma’am, the other guards and I found something, and we’re not sure what to do with her.”

    “...’Her’?” Rahni’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What on Ranos was he talking about?

    “Yes, ma’am. I believe that you should see her for yourself.” Curiosity once again got the best of the immortal woman, so she had her guard lead her to her throne room. “Before I open this door, your Highness, I ask that you don’t… overreact.”

    Now Rahni was itching with suspense, dismissing her guard with a mere wave of her hand before reaching for the door’s knob.

    What she found on the other side shocked her.

    The noises of a baby’s wails greeted her ears, and standing in front of her throne was one of her handmaidens, holding a crying infant. Rahni practically sprinted to her maid, not sparing a glance as she asked, “Where was she?”

    “We found her by the horse stables, madam-”

    “How long was she there?” Rahni’s hands were held midair, as if she were contemplating just snatching the baby from the maid’s arms. 

    “It can’t have been more than a day, when our guards made the patrol around the palace grounds last night, there was no one in sight, then when one of our stable boys went to replace the horses’ feed, there she was in the feeder,” the maid was looking warily between the baby and the queen, not sure what to do in that situation. Rahni continued to restrain herself from grabbing the bundle in the other woman’s arms, but she did lean closer to examine the supposed orphan’s features.

    Despite her face being bunched up from wailing, she could see that she had emerald green eyes behind tears, and a small head covered in ginger locks of hair. On the sides of her head poked out small ears with slight points on the ends. Rahni could no longer resist the urge to reach for the child, so instead of taking her into her own arms, she settled for having the girl wrap her small right hand around her own pointer finger, doing so made her wails silent.

    Rahni wept.

    She, as an immortal, would never be able to have a child with a mortal, hence why she had no children while her husband breathed. Yet, Rahni could not deny the maternal instinct in her heart when she made contact with this small human. But… 

    “I can’t care for her…” Rahni forced herself to remove her finger from the infant’s grasp, and once she did she began to cry again, this time harder as she shook her soft hands in fists. Rahni resisted the urge to place her finger back in her hold. “I wouldn’t be able to find time for her, let alone take care of her!”

    “Then let us do it!” Another maiden entered the throne room, trailed by a few more. “Let us take care of her! We’ll feed her, change her, and make sure she grows healthily!” Rahni was taken aback by the womens’ urge to keep the girl. She looked between the maidens, to the baby in their arms, to the room around them. Still looking unsure, the eldest maid, who was currently holding the babe, spoke up.

    “Mistress, you’ve been so glum since Zieran, you need someone like this in your life again,” The woman paused, still seeing uncertainty in the queen’s eyes. “Would you like to hold her?”

    Rahni’s eyes lit up, despite her somber stance. She silently nodded and walked towards her throne, the maidens following closely behind. At this point, even a few guards were not-so-discreetly poking their heads through the main door.

    Now seated on her grand throne, Rahni extended her arms expectantly, soon receiving what she requested. With the infant now in her arms, she stopped her loud screeches, and looked up at the queen, with big eyes.

    Rahni’s heart lurched in her chest, and as she gazed down at the ginger babe in her hands, the palace staff knew that there was a new addition among their midsts.

    Rahni decided that it would be best to assume the role of the infant’s older sister, instead of mother, but she did bestow the child with the name Xena. Xena continued to grow and age with beauty and grace, and the two sisters’ bond was unlike any other. Rahni always made sure that the other’s needs were met, and Xena consistently helped her sister in times of need, including helping the queen become used to visiting her people more often, again. 

    However, sixteen years later when things began to look up for Rahni, it all came crumbling down again with misfortune.

    Xena, now sixteen, had quite the habit of using Rahni’s personal library. The young woman knew of her sister’s immortality, and of the many different ethereal beings and realms, so one day, while looking through the shelves of books, she stumbled upon a worn book on a back shelf. The book’s cover was covered in dust, and the spine was falling apart. Blowing the dust off, Xena found that the book was about the undead realm.

    This was one of the few realms that Rahni refused to tell her sister about, and the fact that Xena had found this made her ecstatic. So, opening to the novel’s pages, she found an endless supply of knowledge about the realm, such as the unique species, mannerisms of the undead, and what the terrain was like, ranging from warped forests to wastelands that contained lost souls in its very soil.

    But what interested the young princess the most was the ruler, Shugarah. The queen of the undead, stated to be ruthless and unforgiving. The more she read about her, the more she wanted to know, so one day when Rahni went to visit another kingdom to discuss a compromise, Xena began the process of creating a portal to this forbidden land. According to the book, she needed materials such as obsidian, ruby dust, and the portal creator’s blood.

    So she set to work in a private section of the palace garden, where she layed a circle of obsidian in the grass, and spread the ruby dust in the center. Lastly, she used a rock to cut her hand. With the blood oozing from her palm, she mixed it in with the ruby dust in the center. Xena took a step back as the portal roared to life. The dust and blood swirled within the obsidian to create a window into the hellish land, and as she looked into it, her body was struck with fear, but along with that fear was intrigue.

    After she patched up her new wound, she mustered all of her courage, and grabbed a bag of supplies, such as the book, first aid, food, some gold, more ruby dust, and she jumped into the unknown.

    The first thing she felt was heat that she could never compare to the summer’s hottest days, but despite the temperature, she did not sweat.

    “Odd,” she whispered, as she examined her clothing, seeing no sweat marks. Looking around all she could see were red rocks that made the floor, that covered the sky, and crawled up all around her. Collecting herself, she began her trek through the land, book in hand. What she was searching for was Shugarah’s fortress, which was said to be hidden deep in the center of the world.

    On her journey, she found indescribable places and creatures, including an ocean of lava instead of water, purple and blue forests, and walking skeletons. 

   After what seemed like days, she finally approached the grand walls of Shugarah’s fortress. Just as she was about to begin her treach through the walls of the infamous building, she saw a few young creatures in the corner of her eye. They seemed to be humanoid… pigs? She remembered reading about them, and how they were called ‘piglins’. They only came up to her waist, and some looked undead compared to others, their skin green and bones showing, but nonetheless, they played with wooden swords.

    She giggled at their little game, and approached them.

    “Hello!” The piglins had not noticed her before, but when she spoke, they seemed very startled and the tallest one nervously held his sword at her, while the rest hid behind him. Xena sat down, not wanting to seem threatening to the young piglins, and reaching into her bag, pulled out the gold she had brought, which were in little nuggets.

   The tallest immediately recognized the yellow mineral, and his pupils dilated at the sight of it, but his stance did not move, and he was still focused on protecting the other piglins. Xena then placed a few nuggets on the ground, and crawled back slowly, waiting for him to approach her instead of her approaching him. Soon enough the piglins approached her, one by one, five in total, and Xena found herself immersed in playing with the foreign children.

   She wasn’t sure how long they played together, and was also unaware of how long she was being watched by a mysterious figure from the fortress walls, which was now about ten yards away from the group. 

   The playtime between the two species led to a makeshift conversation. The piglins understood a miniscule amount of English, but could not speak it. Xena pulled out her book once more, looking for the section about the others’ species, and she, herself, began to make makeshift words in their tongue, which consisted of grunts and groans instead of fluent words. With her back now to the fortress, the piglins sat in front of her, listening and seeming to giggle at her poor attempts to speak like them. One even laid their head in her lap, seeming to be the most comfortable with her presence.

   This went on for who knows how long, but the end was coming closer. Eventually, Xena saw as all of the young piglins around her stiffened and became eerily silent, except for the, what seemed to be, youngest that had fallen asleep in her lap. All of their beady eyes became locked on something behind her, and before she could realize what was happening, a voice spoke.

   “Impressive, I’ve never seen them so open around something not of their kind.” Xena hesitantly craned her neck to glance behind her, and there she was. Shugarah. She was even more elegant than she was said to be in the book, and Xena could only gaze in awe.

   Shugarah wore a dress of black silk that hugged her slim figure, the only skin that showed was that of her feet and a portion of her leg that revealed itself in a slit in the dress. Her sleeves were made of a slightly transparent material, drawing attention to the muscle in her biceps and forearms. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight braid that swept over her shoulder, long enough to have the end touch her hip. The goddess stood at what seemed to be a seven foot tall stance, with her gazing down at the teenager in a slight interest, with her glittering hazel eyes. 

   Xena couldn’t help but feel the urge to bow in the intimidating presence of the queen of the dead, but could only sit there due to the sleeping piglin on her legs. Snapping out of her trance, she turned back around to softly remove the creature from her lap, but froze again when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

   “No, no! Don’t move him, they can be quite rowdy when woken abruptly,” Shugarah had knelt down to be directly behind the much younger being, and her head was just above Xena’s shoulder. “Here, let me take him.”

   Before Xena had time to process, Shugarah’s long arms reached around the girl, and swiftly took the snoring child into her own grasp, not even stirring the small piglin from his slumber. They both stood then, and the teenager wasted no time turning around to properly bow to the queen.

   “Oh, dear, none of that, now,” Shugarah shook her head, moving the child in her arms so that one of her hands was free. “Now, state your purpose.”

   “Uhm, no specific reason, Your Highness! I-I just found this book, and I-”

   “A book, you say?” Shugarah raised an eyebrow. She leaned slightly to look around Xena, and saw the book there, it’s pages still open to where it spoke of hell’s many creatures. Xena began to fumble over herself as she rushed to turn around and pick up the abandoned novel.

   “Yes!” she cried. “I had found it in our library, and your world sounded so interesting, so I-”

   “Made the portal…” Shugarah mumbled, breaking eye contact. The two stood there for a minute in silence, before Shugarah asked, “So tell me, mortal. Do you have a name?”

   Shugarah was surprised when Xena hesitated to answer. As she looked down at the ginger, she couldn’t help but notice that she was looking at the nearby fortress as she fidgeted with her hands.

    “Well?” Shugarah stared at her expectantly.

    Xena blinked, drawing her gaze away from the fortress, back up to the queen before her.

    “Well, your Highness, I come from the Esther family, and I live with my sister-”

    “‘Esther’ as in Rahni Esther?” Shugarah’s eyes lit up, and a smile graced her features before she realized her reaction, and she cleared her throat. “I mean, you come from Rahni Esther’s bloodline?” This sudden change of tone confused the mortal, but she didn’t question it. Instead she merely began to walk past Shugarah, towards the fortress, continuing to gaze at the intimidating structure.

    “Yeah, she’s my older sister,” she answered, without looking at the other. Shugarah blinked at how nonchalantly a mortal could say that their sibling was a goddess. 

   At this point, the piglin children had run off, leaving just the youngest still asleep in Shugarah’s arms.

   After a moment of watching Xena, Shugarah had two thoughts at once. “You still never told me your first name, child.”

   “Oh, my apologies, it’s Xena.”

    “What a lovely name,” Shugarah then initiated her second thought. “Would you like to come inside?” Now that caught her attention, causing Xena to turn around, her eyes as bright as stars. The queen chuckled at her enthusiasm, and led the younger being towards her abode, with the redhead practically bouncing on her toes.

    Once inside, Shugarah introduced Xena to some foreign cuisines, and the two made small talk with each other about the underworld and overworld, and how their kingdoms were run differently. They had been talking for about an hour until, “Miss?”

   “Yes, Xena?”

   “I was wondering, in the book it said that you were ‘unforgiving’ and ‘cruel’, and I wanted to ask, uhm, how come you haven’t…”

   “Killed you?”

   Xena was shocked by how blunt she was, but she nodded sheepishly, awaiting Shugarah’s response.

   “Oh, it’s because you looked interesting, I guess.”

   Xena’s skin paled, but then the queen laughed.

   “Dearest, I’m joking with you! I was intrigued while watching you play with the children. Most adventurers who survive the path to my fortress don’t survive, and when they do arrive, most try to attack the piglins and their young. So when you came along, you did something I wasn’t expecting, and not much down here is ‘different’, so to say.” Shugarah looked away, a somber smile on her face.

   The two continued to chat until Xena realized how long it must’ve been since she left her realm. Bringing this to Shugarah’s attention, the queen offered to make a special portal that would lead right into the fortress, for whenever the young woman wanted to visit at any given time.

   Agreeing to this arrangement, Shugarah led Xena to her, what looked to be, a garden with many exotic plants and a few mystical creatures roaming around the grounds. The goddess proceeded to make a much more grand portal than the makeshift one that Xena had made, with it standing upright instead of on the ground. Once activated, Xena could see her garden on the other side, and more importantly, who was on the other side.

   Xena cringed at how Rahni seemed to be absolutely fuming, standing with her arms crossed in the garden, near Xena’s previous portal. She looked up to the queen, only to see her wide eyed, seeming  to be absolutely enamored with the overworld, or, more specifically, the other goddess.

   Taking a deep breath, Xena stepped through the portal, with Shugarah staying behind, but still visible within the portal’s borders. Rahni began to approach her sister, looking ready to scold the living daylights out of her, but then she glanced behind her, and froze. Her eyes went wide, much like how Shugarah’s had, and her face went a light shade of red. Xena decided to slip past her, waving to Shugarah before departing towards the palace.

   The two goddesses gazed at each other, only hearing of the legends that the other held, and never actually meeting in person. Little did either of them know, this moment would change their lives forever.

   From that day forward, Rahni, instead of Xena, snuck to the portal to see Shugarah. In their time together, Rahni learned that the other goddess had also lost her husband recently, and Shugarah learned of Rahni’s kingdom and how she came to be the empress she is now. There was an immediate connection between the two, which was plain to see for anyone. Xena would also involve herself in the queens’ affair, being a, what one would call, “wingwoman”. Before either of them knew it, they were in love.

   For years, the two’s bond grew stronger and stronger. But, again.

   It was never meant to be.

   Rio, the god of chaos and monstrosity, had heard of the queens’ bondage, and out of pure boredom, decided to come in between it. He watched from afar, still feigning friendship with Rahni, as he searched for anything to bring the lovers apart. During his watches, he found one who was close to both of them, and that they would do anything for her.

   Xena Esther.

   One night, he snuck into her room, and while there, made an absolute monster out of her. He cursed her to forever walk on all four limbs, to be given a jaw full of teeth sharper than any sword, and a mutilated body of orange, a mix between all of scales, feathers, and fur.

When he completed the transformation, his maniacal laugh could be heard all throughout the palace’s walls. This awoke Rahni, and she practically flew to her sister’s bedroom, but alas, it was too late. Rio’s infamous power was irreversible.

She wept at the sight of her younger sister, now a horrid beast, who didn’t even seem to recognize her older sibling. Rahni was forced to have her guards lock her away for everyone’s own safety, including Xena’s.

Shugarah eventually got word of what had occurred, and she was absolutely furious, enraged that another god could do this to an innocent soul. She would have gone to punish him, herself, if Rahni hadn’t stopped her. Shugarah could see the pain and anguish that the empress felt, and decided that the best thing for her to do would be to comfort her companion.

Years after the incident, Rahni and Shugarah had wed and conjoined their two kingdoms, Rahni’s being the practical gateway to the underworld. Rahni was slowly recovering from the loss of her sister, but soon enough, the two wives could not live happily forever. 

Rahni had been asleep, Shugarah managing the souls passing into the afterlife that night, when an aura of suspense swept over the empire. It was a night that was very similar to another.

The night King Zieran had been murdered. And soon, it was about to happen again.

As Rahni slept, a guard entered her bedroom. Unbeknownst to anyone in the palace, it was an imposter. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

The stranger approached the queen’s sleeping figure, and slowly raised a sharp dagger above her head. But… they couldn’t do it. The assassin could only hold the weapon in the air, trying to force their arm to finish the act, but eventually had to pull themself away forcefully. Rahni slowly awoke to see the intruder, frozen next to her bedside. Her gray eyes showed minimal fear, for she could see that the soul before her may have had cruel intentions, but their heart was good.

She quickly disarmed them, and sat them on the floor so that she could speak to them calmly. The stranger soon burst into tears, murmuring apologies not to Rahni, but someone else. She gave them a minute to compose themselves, until they were finally capable of speaking. She did, however, resort to threatening them for the truth, still wary due to this person having tried to kill her not an hour beforehand.

They introduced themself as Faux, and that he was the younger brother of the assassin that had killed Zieran. He had come to avenge his brother, and to finally prove to the world that it was, in fact, possible to kill an immortal being. Rahni could not help but feel pity for the boy before her, for he looked to be no older than sixteen. He reminded her of her sister, in a strange way. So, she struck a deal with Faux.

“If you are able to slay the god, Rio, then I will grant you your brother back, in return your word that you and your brother will never slay another living being again.”

Faux agreed, and Rahni then granted him the supplies that he would need to defeat the god of monstrosity. Of these supplies included a charm that would turn Faux into an ordinary fox as a disguise, and a vial of serum that would turn its consumer to stone.

And so, Faux set off on his quest to kill a god. When he reached Rio’s kingdom, a temple within a jungle, he activated the charm and turned into the small, orange mammal. He snuck into the temple, where other animals from around the world roamed. Rio liked to surround himself in the company of different creatures to examine their features, and make new monsters with the inspiration. 

The time was noon, and Faux had discreetly slipped the serum into Rio’s cup of wine. He watched from afar as the god entered the room and sat down to his meal, and he witnessed the unsuspecting king down the wine in one gulp. Instantaneously, Faux saw that Rio’s skin turned to a hard stone, forever frozen in the position of placing his goblet on the table.

Rahni could feel from across the world that the deed was done, so she revived Faux’s brother’s soul, and she fled to her dungeon, where Xena had been kept for nearly six years. However, what she found horrified her far more than the beastly figure that her sister had previously had.

Xena was dead. The transformation from her monstrous form back into a human was too much for her body to handle, and there she was on the dungeon floor, limp and lifeless.

Rahni’s shriek echoed through the entire empire, and the grief that overcame her was unbearable. She sobbed as she held her sister close to her chest, her tears flowing more than they ever had before. Xena’s death was the one that broke the young goddess.

Rahni isolated herself from absolutely everyone but Shugarah, and she never spoke again. Throughout the years of her existence, Rahni who had once been a goddess of promise and prosperity, was now the culmination of grief and sorrow, all due to her everlasting misfortune.

[ladyofasoiaf]

ADWD:  Daenerys vs Jon

In this meta, I will try to find the clues of Dance of Dragons 2.0 in Daenerys and Jon ADWD chapters. 

(I will be pointing out how these two are meant to be against each other) 

Mostly: I will examine the chapters that follow each other. 

Let’s start...

A) ADWD; Daenerys I & Jon I:

Daenerys I:

He lifted the sack, and spilled its contents on the marble. Bones they were, broken bones and blackened. The longer ones had been cracked open for their marrow. “It were the black one,” the man said, in a Ghiscari growl, “the winged shadow. He come down from the sky and … and …” No. Dany shivered. No, no, oh no. “Are you deaf, fool?” Reznak mo Reznak demanded of the man. “Did you not hear my pronouncement? See my factors on the morrow, and you shall be paid for your sheep.” “Reznak,” Ser Barristan said quietly, “hold your tongue and open your eyes. Those are no sheep bones.” No, Dany thought, those are the bones of a child.

[ADWD; Daenerys I]

Dany’s dragon Drogon burns a child

Let’s look Jon chapter that comes after this Dany chapter:

Jon I:

Burning dead children had ceased to trouble Jon Snow; live ones were another matter. Two kings to wake the dragon. The father first and then the son, so both die kings. The words had been murmured by one of the queen’s men as Maester Aemon had cleaned his wounds. Jon had tried to dismiss them as his fever talking. Aemon had demurred. “There is power in a king’s blood,” the old maester had warned, “and better men than Stannis have done worse things than this.” The king can be harsh and unforgiving, aye, but a babe still on the breast? Only a monster would give a living child to the flames.

[ADWD; Jon I]

GRRM knew exactly what he was doing by making this chapter follow the Dany one. 

Only monsters burn children= Dragons are monsters. 

Even Dany says so. And Dany calls herself a monster too in her second chapters:

Daenerys II:

Mother of dragons, Daenerys thought. Mother of monsters. What have I unleashed upon the world? A queen I am, but my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros? I am the blood of the dragon, she thought. If they are monsters, so am I.

[ADWD; Daenerys II]

Monsters burn children= Dragons are monsters = Dany is a monster

This ADWD; Dany II chapter comes after ADWD; Jon III.

Let’s keep reading Jon I chapter:

Jon I:

Stannis read from the letter. “Bear Island knows no king but the King in the North, whose name is STARK. A girl of ten, you say, and she presumes to scold her lawful king.” 

[ADWD; Jon I]

Like Daenerys, Stannis also believes that he is the only lawful and true ruler, he sacrifices people to flames, he listens what flames tell him, he wants everyone to bend the knee to him.

Also let’s not forget about the Dragonstone and Azor Ahai parallels between Dany and Stannis. 

Just like Lyanna Mormont doesn’t bend the knee to Stannis; the other Northern lords won’t accept Daenerys either. 

Stannis sees Jon as his key to the North. But Jon made his choice and he chose family and honor over his own desire of becoming the Lord of Winterfell:

“By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.”

[ADWD; Jon I]

Daenerys might also see Jon as her key to the North in the future books but Jon will always choose his honor as a Stark and his Stark family. 

Lonely and lovely and lethal, Jon Snow reflected, and I might have had her. Her, and Winterfell, and my lord father’s name. Instead he had chosen a black cloak and a wall of ice. Instead he had chosen honor. A bastard’s sort of honor.

[ADWD; Jon III]

This also comes before a Dany chapter:

[About Jon choosing Sansa and him becoming her hero, please check: Jon x Sansa Book Hints: C12, C13, E2 ]

B) ADWD; Daenerys III & Jon IV:

Daenerys III:

The next morning Xaro’s galleas was gone, but the “gift” that he had brought her remained behind in Slaver’s Bay. Long red streamers flew from the masts of the thirteen Qartheen galleys, writhing in the wind. And when Daenerys descended to hold court, a messenger from the ships awaited her. He spoke no word but laid at her feet a black satin pillow, upon which rested a single bloodstained glove. “What is this?” Skahaz demanded. “A bloody glove …” “… means war,” said the queen.

[ADWD; Daenerys III]

GLOVE IS OFF AND IT MEANS WAR!

Next chapter is Jon:

Jon IV:

As they did their count, Jon peeled the glove off his left hand and touched the nearest haunch of venison. He could feel his fingers sticking, and when he pulled them back he lost a bit of skin. His fingertips were numb. What did you expect? There’s a mountain of ice above your head, more tons than even Bowen Marsh could count. Even so, the room felt colder than it should. “It is worse than I feared, my lord,” Marsh announced when he was done. He sounded gloomier than Dolorous Edd. Jon had just been thinking that all the meat in the world surrounded them. You know nothing, Jon Snow. “How so? This seems a deal of food to me.”

[ADWD; Jon IV]

Jon takes his glove off and loses skin and maybe it gets even bloody?

In this chapter Jon is having problems with finding food and it is safe to assume that dragons are a threat to realm’s supplies. 

Jon thinks their best hope is untouched Eyrie- where his Tully cousin hides as a bastard: (source: Best Hope is in Eyrie) 

“If we had sufficient coin, we could buy food from the south and bring it in by ship,” the Lord Steward said. We could, thought Jon, if we had the gold, and someone willing to sell us food. Both of those were lacking. Our best hope may be the Eyrie. The Vale of Arryn was famously fertile and had gone untouched during the fighting. Jon wondered how Lady Catelyn’s sister would feel about feeding Ned Stark’s bastard. As a boy, he often felt as if the lady grudged him every bite.

[ADWD; Jon IV]

He once again chooses his Stark family in this chapter:

Which would you have as Lord of Winterfell, Snow? The smiler or the slayer?” Jon said, “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.”

[ADWD; Jon IV]

C) ADWD; Daenerys VII & Jon IX:

Daenerys VII:

This is Dany’s wedding chapter and she learns about her father’s jealousy about married cousins Tywin and Joanna and she also thinks about a love between a Targaryen prince and a Stark lady:

“I want to know. I never knew my father. I want to know everything about him. The good and … the rest.” “As you command.” The white knight chose his words with care. “Prince Aerys … as a youth, he was taken with a certain lady of Casterly Rock, a cousin of Tywin Lannister. When she and Tywin wed, your father drank too much wine at the wedding feast and was heard to say that it was a great pity that the lord’s right to the first night had been abolished. A drunken jape, no more, but Tywin Lannister was not a man to forget such words, or the … the liberties your father took during the bedding.” His face reddened. “I have said too much, Your Grace. I—”

[...]

If he loved you, he would come and carry you off at swordpoint, as Rhaegar carried off his northern girl, the girl in her insisted, but the queen knew that was folly.

[ADWD; Daenerys VII]

Tywin betrayed Aerys and Rhaegar’s love for Lyanna caused a big trouble for the realm... 

And we know that Daenerys is still waiting for a BETRAYAL FOR LOVE. 

The voices were growing louder, she realized, and it seemed her heart was slowing, and even her breath… three treasons will you know… once for blood and once for gold and once for love…

[…]  

A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness… mother of dragons, bride of fire…  

[ACOK; Daenerys IV]

And next chapter is Jon who is a secret Targaryen and the son of Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark. 

So Jon comes after betrayer Tywin. (betrayal)

He is the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna.. (love)

Who is the cousin? 

Well A SISTER comes to him in this chapter: 

A grey girl on a dying horse. Melisandre’s fires had not lied, it would seem. 

[ADWD; Jon IX]

According to Melisandre’s vision this “grey girl” should have been Jon’s sister but Alys Karstark came to him. 

“I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will.”  

[ADWD; Jon VI]

But in truth Jon’s only sister Rhaenys is dead and the only sisters Jon knows are his COUSINS actually. 

Which cousin? The one that fits into the “grey girl” prophecy. Sansa Stark... Who is now facing a new marriage. 

According to fan made reading order for AFFC & ADWD: (source: AFFC&ADWD reading order)

ADWD; Jon IX chapter is following AFFC;  Alayne II chapter where she learns about Petyr’s plans of marrying her with Harry Hardyng. 

So according to same reading order, this Alayne chapter comes between this Daenerys chapter and Jon chapter. 

[About Jon and Sansa being Dany’s betrayal for love and doom please read: Jon x Sansa Book Hints: B4, D4, E6 ]

So the fake grey girl that comes after Dany chapter gives us the clues of Dany’s last betrayal for love by pointing out two cousins who are a Targaryen prince and a Stark lady. 

Let’s continue with ADWD; Jon IX: 

Queen Selyse descended upon Castle Black with her daughter and her daughter’s fool, her serving girls and lady companions, and a retinue of knights, sworn swords, and men-at-arms fifty strong. Queen’s men all, Jon Snow knew. They may attend Selyse, but it is Melisandre they serve.

[ADWD; Jon IX]

We know that Jon dislikes Queen Selyse and he knows that she is actually a puppet of Melisandre. 

In one of his ADWD chapters he describes Selyse like this:

A word from Melisandre, and she would walk into the fire willingly, embrace it like a lover.

[ADWD; Jon X]

This description reminds me Daenerys Targaryen. 

Who did walk into flames willingly and embrace it like a lover? Daenerys Targaryen: 

She had sensed the truth of it long ago, Dany thought as she took a step closer to the conflagration, but the brazier had not been hot enough. The flames writhed before her like the women who had danced at her wedding, whirling and singing and spinning their yellow and orange and crimson veils, fearsome to behold, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat. Dany opened her arms to them, her skin flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought.

[…]

And now the flames reached her Drogo, and now they were all around him. [...] Part of her wanted to go to him as Ser Jorah had feared, to rush into the flames to beg for his forgiveness and take him inside her one last time, the fire melting the flesh from their bones until they were as one, forever.

[…]

A rising heat puffed at her face, soft and sudden as a lover’s breath…

[AGOT; Daenerys X]

The interesting thing is that a Daenerys chapter follows this Jon X chapter where he describes Selyse.

Let’s keep reading Jon IX: 

If he is not a kinslayer, he is the next best thing. Axell Florent’s brother had been burned by Melisandre, Maester Aemon had informed him, yet Ser Axell had done little and less to stop it. What sort of man can stand by idly and watch his own brother being burned alive?

[ADWD; Jon IX]

another Daenerys hint: Dany-Viserys or Jon killing his kin maybe?

“Salladhor Saan?” “The Lysene pirate? Some say he has returned to his old haunts, this is so. And Lord Redwyne’s war fleet creeps through the Broken Arm as well. On its way home, no doubt. But these men and their ships are well-known to us. No, these other sails … from farther east, perhaps … one hears queer talk of dragons.” “Would that we had one here. A dragon might warm things up a bit.” “My lord jests. You will forgive me if I do not laugh. We Braavosi are descended from those who fled Valyria and the wroth of its dragonlords. We do not jape of dragons.” No, I suppose not. “My apologies, Lord Tycho.”

[ADWD; Jon IX]

Jon is warned against dragons.

D) ADWD; Daenerys IX & Jon XI:

Daenerys IX 

Dizzy, Dany closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she glimpsed the Meereenese beneath her through a haze of tears and dust, pouring up the steps and out into the streets. The lash was still in her hand. She flicked it against Drogon’s neck and cried, “Higher!” Her other hand clutched at his scales, her fingers scrabbling for purchase. Drogon’s wide black wings beat the air. Dany could feel the heat of him between her thighs. Her heart felt as if it were about to burst. Yes, she thought, yes, now, now, do it, do it, take me, take me, FLY!

[ADWD; Daenerys IX]

Daenerys rides Drogon for the first time and this looks like an orgasmic experience but don’t let it fool you: people in Meereen are not happy because they are dying etc... 

Next chapter is realm’s shield Jon:

Jon XI

Jon clasped the offered hand. The words of his oath rang through his head. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. And for him a new refrain: I am the guard who opened the gates and let the foe march through. He would have given much and more to know that he was doing the right thing. But he had gone too far to turn back. “Done and done,” he said.

[ADWD; Jon XI]

He remembers his oath about protecting the realm.

He thinks Ghost (his Stark side) is the only protection he needs:

Ghost was the only protection Jon needed; the direwolf could sniff out foes, even those who hid their enmity behind smiles.

[ADWD; Jon XI]

Jon wants to scream that fire obsessed queen is not his queen. And he wants Selyse and Melisandre gone. 

[Stannis + Melisandre + Selyse = Daenerys]

Val’s playful smile died. “You have my word, Lord Snow. I will be a proper wildling princess for your queen.” She is not my queen, he might have said. If truth be told, the day of her departure cannot come too fast for me. And if the gods are good, she will take Melisandre with her.

[ADWD; Jon XI]

A northern princess doesn’t bend the knee to fire obsessed queen:

“The queen’s face hardened. “A grievous oversight.” What faint traces of warmth her voice had held vanished all at once. “Free folk do not kneel,” Val told her. “Then they must be knelt,” the queen declared.“Do that, Your Grace, and we will rise again at the first chance,” Val promised. “Rise with blades in hand.”

[ADWD; Jon XI]

Jon remembers his Night’s Watch oath AGAIN:

“I know what I swore.” Jon said the words. “I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. Were those the same words you said when you took your vows?”

[ADWD; Jon XI]

So as we can see Daenerys’ bonding with her dragon doesn’t seem like a good omen for Westeros. But at least we have our shield and warrior: Jon SNOW. 

We are done with the chapters that follow each other but I am going to look at Daenerys’ last POV in ADWD too:

BONUS: 

ADWD; Daenerys X:

A wolf howls when she thinks about her betrayals and it makes her sad and lonely but not less hungry:

Yet who else could it have been? Reznak, her perfumed seneschal? The Yunkai’i? The Sons of the Harpy? Off in the distance, a wolf howled. The sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. As the moon rose above the grasslands, Dany slipped at last into a restless sleep.

[ADWD; Daenerys X]

Ants, which are coming from a WALL, bite Dany:

It turned out that their anthill was on the other side of her wall. She wondered how the ants had managed to climb over it and find her. To them these tumbledown stones must loom as huge as the Wall of Westeros. The biggest wall in all the world, her brother Viserys used to say, as proud as if he’d built it himself.

[ADWD; Daenerys X]

Wolves and crows are not good signs for her:

My flesh will feed the wolves and carrion crows, she thought sadly, and worms will burrow through my womb. 

[ADWD; Daenerys X]

She embraces “Fire and Blood”:

No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words. “Fire and Blood,” Daenerys told the swaying grass.

[ADWD; Daenerys X]

In conclusion: Daenerys will be dangerous for Westeros. It seems like Jon and Starks will be against Daenerys at some point and in the end Daenerys will meet her doom because of them.. 

Thanks for reading... 

[jadelotusflower]

July 2021 Roundup

Discussed this month: The Once and Future King, The Good People, The Secret of Kells/Wolfwalkers/Song of the Sea (aka "Irish Folklore" Trilogy), The Matrix Trilogy, the John Wick Trilogy, Space Jam: A New Legacy

Reading

The Once and Future King (T.H. White) - I've actually read this before, but it was a long time ago and I remembered very little of it so it seemed time for a revisit. Written between 1936 and 1942, this is a surprisingly meta retelling of Arthur and Camelot, very obviously and heavily influenced by WWII, with much academic pondering on the concept of humanity and war and ongoing conflict against Might=Right - looking to the past to try and understand the present. Some familiarity with the legends is assumed, White occasionally making reference to Malory, and there is a strange anachronistic feel - Merlin lives time backwards and talks of Hitler and other 20th Century references, White frequently refers to Old England and the way things were "back then", but also calls Arthur's country Gramarye, the narrative taking place an a kind of alternate history/mythology where Uther was the Norman conqueror of 1066, and yet reference is also made to the Plantagenet kings.

Comprising five volumes (the first four published separately at the time, and the final posthumously), it struck me on this read how each of the first four are structured around the childhood of a major player -Arthur (The Sword in the Stone), Gawain and his brothers (The Witch in the Wood), Lancelot (The Ill-Made Knight), and Mordred (The Candle in the Wind), and how their upbringing played a part in the inevitable tragedy of Camelot. In the final volume, The Book of Merlyn, it comes full circle as Arthur on the eve of his death is taken to revisit the animals of his childhood for much philosophising (at one point Merlyn argues at length with a badger about Karl Marx and communism.)

The Sword in the Stone is the most engaging, with young Arthur (known as "the Wart") and his tutelage under Merlin, being turned into various animals like an ant, a goose, and a hawk to learn about each of their societies (political allegories), and meeting with Robin Wood (Hood) and Maid Marian to battle Morgan le Fay, and the climactic pulling of the sword from the stone. This was of course the source material for the Disney film, although missing the wizards duel with Madam Mim (appearing in the original publication, but removed for the revised version).

The Ill-Made Knight is the longest volume and was honestly a slog to get through, because honestly Lancelot is pretty dull/terrible, and the Lancelot/Guenever love affair less than compelling. Ultimately it's Lancelot's hubris that dooms them - he is warned that Mordred intends to catch him out in Guenever's room, but he goes anyway, and doesn't leave when he tells her to, because he is stupid.

It’s no surprise that the female characters are given the short shrift, but there’s an uncomfortable vein of misogyny running through the book. To wit:

Elaine had done the ungraceful thing as usual. Guenever, in similar circumstances, would have been sure to grow pale and interesting - but Elaine had only grown plump.

And then later:

Guenever had overdressed for the occasion. She had put on makeup which she did not need, and put it on badly. She was forty-two.

Morgause (the eponymous witch in the wood/queen of air and darkness) is a negligent mother whose sole motivation is revenge, Elaine rapes Lancelot by deception, Guenever is hypocritical and shrill (but achieves a sliver of nuance in Candle), Nimueh is a nonentity, and Morgan le Fey is a monstrous fairy. If only White had turned his academic pondering inward and in order to examine the role of women in his worldview other than as damsels or instigators.

But Arthur also gets the short shrift - after all the focus in his childhood, he becomes almost a peripheral figure in the rest of the story until the very end, and we're not actually given much to show why he is the once and future king, other than that he tries to institute a slightly less brutal system.

Ultimately, White is more interested in philosophy than character, and so Camelot's inevitable tragedy feels more clinical than visceral.

The Good People (Hannah Kent) - If the Irish Folklore Trilogy (discussed below) is the beauty and wonder of Irish myths and legends interacting with the human world, this book is the cold danger of superstition and the devastating affect of folklore used as an explanation for life's ills. Set in 1820's rural Ireland, Nora is widowed and left with the care of her young disabled grandson Michael, believed to be a changeling. The local wise woman Nance, who feels the touch of "the good people" sets about to drive out the fairy from the child, believing that the "real" Michael will return, much to the growing dread of Mary, the teenage girl Nora has hired to care for him.

Here fairies are seen as a malevolent force, "sweeping" away women and children, causing bad harvests, and bringing death to the village - to be respected and feared. And then there's Nance, bartering traditional cures for ailments and troubles - some work, some do not, and some pose great danger. On the other hand, this is a remote village where a doctor must be fetched from Killarney, and only one priest who is less than charitable. Neither provide any help or support to Nora.

SPOILERS It's an upsetting read dealing with dark subject matter - grief trauma, child abuse and accidental infanticide, a kind of slow burn horror. If it takes a village to to raise a child, it also takes one to kill a child, as mounting fear and superstition moves through the population like a contagion, heightening Nora's desperation for the "return" of her grandson, and Nance's to prove her knowledge. It's an impeccably researched novel (based in part on a true event) but very unsettling - poor Michael is never really given humanity, and I feel this book would be hugely triggering in its depiction of disability and neurodivergence.

Watching

The Secret of Kells/Song of the Sea/Wolfwalkers (dir. Tom Moore) - I've been meaning to watch these films for absolutely ages, and I finally got to them this month. I’m pleased to say that the many people who recommended them to me were absolutely correct, because they appear to have been made to specifically cater to my interests. Some mild spoilers ahead.

I watched these in internal chronological order as suggested by @ravenya003, starting with The Secret of Kells, set in 9th Century Ireland where the young monk Brendan helps illuminate the to-be famous manuscript and befriends a forest sprite Aisling, under the threat of a Viking raid. Next was Wolfwalkers, jumping forward to 1650 Kilkenny where the English girl Robyn, daughter of a hunter, is drawn into the world of the forest and Mebh, who turns into a wolf when she sleeps. And finally we go all the way to 1980's in Song of the Sea for the story of Ben, who must help his younger sister Saoirse (a selkie) find her voice and bring back the faeries who have been turned to stone by the owl witch Macha.

Although the stories are completely separate, they've been described as Moore's "Irish Folklore" trilogy, and it’s easy to read a through line from Kells to Wolfwalkers in particular - both deal with fae of the forest, and Aisling appears as a white wolf at the end of the film (having lost her ability to appear in human form). I like to think that Aisling is in some way the progenitor of the wolfwalkers - after all, Kells and Kilkenny are less than 200 kms apart.

Song of the Sea is distant from the other two in both time and subject matter, dealing with selkies, creatures of the water. In many ways, Kells and Wolfwalkers feels like a duology, with Song more its own thing. On the other hand, an argument could be made for common fae spirit/s in different forms across all three films - Aisling is a white sprite, Robyn takes the form of a white/grey wolf, and Saoirse a white seal.

The strength of these films other than the folklore is the visual style - I really love 2D animation, and while I appreciate the beauty of cg animation, I often find in the latter’s focus on hyper-realism the artistry can be left by the wayside. These films not just aesthetically beautiful, but the art is used to tell the story - from the sharp angles that represent the darker or harmful elements (Crom, Vikings, the Town), to the circles and rings that represent safety and harmony (the Abbey, the forest, Mebh and her mother/the wolves healing circle, the holy well). The exception is probably the home of Macha, the owl witch, where circles are also prominent and represent magic, and this is often the case in folklore (fairy rings, fairy forts, etc).

Kells is the most stylised, resembling tapestries or pages and triptychs from medieval manuscripts, playing with perspective. I actually saw pages from the real Book of Kells years ago in Dublin, and remember them being very beautiful. We only get glimpses of the Book and the stunning Chi Rho page at the very end of the film, but the style of art is present throughout the film and particularly in the forest where Brendan finds inspiration for his illumination, and on the flipside his encounter in the dark with Crom Cruach, represented as a chalk-drawn primordial serpent.

This style is also present in Wolfwalkers, particularly stark in the way the birds-eye grid of the town often looms over Robyn in the background and in her work at the castle. The depiction of the forest has more of a storybook quality however, as does Song, where almost every frame resembles a painting, particularly the sequences of Saoirse's selkie trip through the sea and Ben's fall through the holy well.

Rav points out in her review that there is the ebbing away of myth and magic in each successive film, contrasted with the rise of Christianity/modernity. But there's circles and rings again, because while the ultimate power of the faerie world is fading away, the interaction between our human protagonists and faerie actually increases with each film. In Kells, we have only Aisling and Crom, in Wolkwalkers, we have Mebh and her mother whose ranks grow to include Robyn and her father, and finally in Song we have Saoirse, Bronagh, Macha, the Na Daoine Sídhe, and the Great Seanachaí.

Watching in the order I did, it does give the impression of the mythological world opening up to the viewer, gaining a deeper understanding and exposure as time progressed. On the other hand, that is also because the human world is gradually encroaching on the world of Faerie, from isolated settlements like the Abbey of Kells, to growing town of Kilkenny and the logging of the surrounding forest, to a modern Ireland of motorways and power lines, and industrialised Dublin where the remaining fairies have moved underground. It makes the climax of Song, with the fairies restored but returning to the land of Tír na nÓg, rather bittersweet.

I also credit the strength of the voice acting - the adult roles are minor but with greats including the dulcet tones of Brendan Gleeson and Sean Bean, and the ethereal Maria Doyle Kennedy (who I wish had gotten to do more). But the child roles are all performed so well, particularly Honor Kneafsey as Robyn, whose growing desperation and distress is just heartbreakingly palpable.

The Matrix Trilogy (dir. The Wachowskis) - I usually don't post rewatches in the Roundup, but I really, really love these movies. I will never forget seeing The Matrix at the cinema as a young teen, knowing nothing other than the tease of the enigmatic trailers, and just being completely blown away by it, and then becoming completely obsessed a few years later in the leadup to Reloaded.

It wasn’t my first fandom, but it was probably the first time I took fandom seriously. I was very invested in Neo/Trinity in particular as well as all the mythological/literary references that fed directly into my interests. I haven’t however gone back and read the fic I wrote, for fear that it is very, very cringe. I know where is is though, so maybe one day before the ff.net is purged.

This is Keanu Reeves at his most handsome, and while he doesn't have the greatest range (as many actors don't, although they don't get as much grief for it), when he's in the zone there's no one else who could do it better. He just has a Presence, you know? A vibe, and it compels me.

This is particularly present in Neo, a character whose conflict is almost entirely internal, burdened by the weight of his responsibility and destiny, both before and after he learns it is a false prophesy. He’s not your typical quippy macho action hero, but much like my other fave Luke Skywalker, is a character who is ultimately driven by love and self-sacrifice. I definitely have a Type of male hero I adore, and Neo fits right in there.

I also really love the sequels, flaws and all, because you know what, the Wachowskis had Ideas and they weren't going to deliver Matrix 2: Electric Boogaloo. Each film goes in an unexpected direction, and not in a subverted expectations ha ha silly rabbits way, but one that does have an internal logic and pulls together a cohesive trilogy as a whole, and how often does that happen these days?

The sequels are so…earnest, with none of the cynical cool detachment perhaps some would have preferred - at its core a trilogy exploring philosophy and the nature of prophesy vs choice, determinism vs free will, and the power of love. Maybe it can be hokey, and some of the dialogue a bit overwritten, but I don't care, there's so much I still enjoy even having seen the trilogy many times over the years.

Not to mention the great female characters - while I'm not sure any of the three strictly passes the Bechdel Test, we have Trinity and Niobe in particular who I love with all my heart. It does kind of annoy me that the Trinity Syndrome is so named, because it only applies in the most reductive reading possible, and Trinity expresses agency (and badassery) every step of the way, saving Neo just as much as he saves her. I mean..."dodge this"/"in five minutes I'll tear that whole goddamn building down"/"believe it"? Niobe piloting the Hammer through the mechanical line in Revolutions? Iconic. There are criticisms that can be made, sure, but the trilogy ultimately loves, respects, and appreciates its female characters (and important to note that the avatars of The System, the Architect and the Agents, are all white men).

Then we have the Oracle, who ultimately holds the most power and is the victor of the human/machine war. There's so much going on with the Oracle I could talk about it all day. It's that fate vs free will question again (“if you already know, how can I make a choice?”), but with the wrinkle of manipulation (“would you still have broken it if I hadn’t said anything?”). Choice is the foundation the Matrix is built on, the unconscious choice for humans to accept the system or reject it - the Architect can't control that, he can only manage it, and the Oracle can't force Neo onto the path she has set out for him, only predict the choices he will make based on her study of the human psyche ("did you always know?"/"No...but I believed"). But she plays with the concept of fate in a complicated web of prophesies for outcome she wants and trusting the nature of Morpheus, Trinity, and Neo to bring it about.

And then there's the visual storytelling - there is so much meaning in almost every frame and line of dialogue. The mirroring and ring cycles not only in the constant presence of reflective surfaces and central metaphor of the Matrix as a simulacrum, but the androgyny of Neo and Trinity, bringing each other back from the dead in successive films (and ultimately both ultimately dying in the third), Neo and Morpheus’ first and last meetings, Smith who is ultimately Neo’s dark mirror, the Oracle/the Architect, just to name a few. I just…really really love these movies? Maybe I’ll do a full post rewatch sometime.

I am however reserving judgement on the Matrix 4 - already there are a few things making me uneasy. Lana is the sole director for this one (Lilly is not involved), and Laurence Fishburne apparently wasn't even asked back, even though Morpheus actually survives the trilogy (as opposed to Neo and Trinity). But I’m interested, and don’t want to go in with any expectations, but rather ready to be surprised again like I was when I watched the first film (and hope I can stay away from spoilers).

John Wick Trilogy (dir. Chad Stahelski) - It was a trilogy kind of month! This genre is generally not my thing, as I don’t have a high tolerance for graphic violence and pure action bores me after a while, but I was in a Keanu kind of mood and I'm always hearing people go on about John Wick so I wanted to know what (if anything) I was missing. While still a bit too violent for my tastes, if nothing else I could appreciate the dance-like fight choreography, even if the worldbuulding is absolutely ridiculous - I mean, literally thousands of assassins across the world chilling in sanctuary hotels, supported by a vast network of weapon suppliers, tailors, surgeons, spy networks, etc? It’s silly, but hey, I was happy to go along with it.

What I do appreciate about Keanu Reeves, and this seems to be a common thread, is that even when in action hero mode (Matrix, Point Break, John Wick, and to a lesser extent Speed), he consistently plays a man who is completely in love with his partner/wife - like, completely, unapologetically devoted to them, and I think that is a big part of the appeal - it's that Keanu energy that is often the antithesis of toxic masculinity, even when in roles that would ordinarily rely on those tropes.

Wick is in many ways the spiritual successor to Neo - insular, taciturn, and even as he's dispatching death with clinical precision. Much like Neo, Wick is a character who is somehow Soft (tm) despite all the violence. I once listened to a podcast where they amusingly discussed the Reeves oeuvre as simulations of Neo still trapped in the Matrix, and it’s very easy to make the case here and imagine John Wick as Neo plugged back in after Revolutions, mourning Trinity and set on mission after mission to keep his mind active (and it would certainly explain why the guy hasn’t dropped dead after being stabbed, beaten up, strangled, hit by a car, shot, and falling off a building). It’s a fun little theory.

Stahelski was Reeves' stunt double and a stunt coordinator on The Matrix and there's plenty of homages in the visual style and reuniting Reeves with costars Laurence Fishburne and Randall Duk Kim (who played the Keymaker).

I did also find it amusing that Wick is also often referred to as babayaga (equated in the film to the bogeyman). Well, Wick is in many ways a witch who lives in the woods, just wanting to be left alone with his dog, and there is a supernatural energy to the character, so...I guess?

Space Jam: A New Legacy (dir. Malcolm D Lee) - I took my niece to see this at the cinema and it was…pretty much what you would expect. I thought it was fine for what it was, even if a bit slow in parts (it takes a looong time for the looneys to show up) and I wonder if they have the same cultural pull they had in the nineties (the age of Tweety Bird supremacy). But the kids seemed into it (my niece liked porky pig) and that's what counts I guess.

This time, the toon battle royale takes place on the WB servers, where evil A.I. Don Cheadle (having the time of his life chewing the cg scenery) wants to capture Lebron James for...reasons, idk. James and Bugs have to find the rest of the looneys scattered across the server-verse, a chance for WB to desperately remind people that they too, have media properties and a multiverse including DC comics world, Harry Potter world, Matrix world, Mad Max world, Casablanca world etc. Some of it feels very dated - there is I kid you not an Austin Powers reference, although it did make me smile that Trinity was on James’ list of most wanted players (skill: agility).

Unfortunately, nothing it really done with this multiverse concept except “hey, remember this movie? Now with looneys” six times, and the crowd for the game populated by WB denizens including the Iron Giant, Pennywise, the monkeys from the Wizard of Oz, Scooby Doo and the gang, etc. But still, it's fun, and hardly the tarnishing of a legacy or whatever nonsense is driving youtube clicks these days.

Writing

The Lady of the Lake - 2335 words.

Against the Dying of the Light - 2927 words, Chapter 13 posted.

Total: 5272 this month, 38,488 this year.

[alj4890]

I have an ask. We know in TRR Book 3 Ch10 Drake is the one being challenged by Neville but what if The King is the one to challenge Neville? After all he’s the one that would talk down to Riley during book 3 and nit once did Liam stand up for her during those times? So I wonder if Liam knew what Neville had said to his future Queen what would his reaction would be. I feel at least that Riley had the choice to punch him! Lol

A/N: Okay, seriously. WHY didn't all the other love interests tell Neville off?! He even annoyed Olivia with his pouting and whines. I get the tension between him and Drake and all; but Neville was talking bad behind Liam's back about his choice to elevate MC to becoming a duchess regardless of whether or not she was engaged to Liam. He was such a jerk to Hana and who in their right mind could be mean to her??? As protective and sacrificial as Maxwell was, (he did show getting ticked off whenever Neville opened his mouth), why wasn't there a dance fight between the two🤣 Now that my mini rant is over, let's see what would happen if Neville pushed Liam too far.

Masterlist

@gkittylove99 @darley1101 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg

Too Far

It wasn't noticeable at first.

He even somehow managed to make friends.

Neville had a way that made him appear as the perfect example of a gentlemanly noble. His cultured tone uttering compliments and his ability to appear humble before his betters had assured his place within Cordonia's high society. Being heir to an earldom and not too horrible to look upon also set him up in life to have a variety of ladies to choose from.

Or so he believed.

When Prince Leo abdicated, the nobles of Cordonia were actually laughed at by the rest of the world. The teasing began with mere good natured ribbing at parties of how unfaithful a Cordonian must be.

It was enough to sour any disposition, especially one that was already so.

Neville Vancoeur kept his noble mask firmly in place. Nothing was going to stop him from his destiny.

Nothing. No one. 

But the newest crown prince was best friends with, it was disgusting simply thinking of the word, a commoner. A commoner! What noble much less a direct descendant of the king himself would ever align themselves with someone who was absolutely worthless

Yet, the embarrassment that was Prince Liam didn't end there. He then went on to favor a poor waitress from America of all places. A waitress. He redeemed himself in Neville's eyes when he chose Countess Madeleine Amaranth of Fydelia to be Cordonia's queen. Though he didn't quite understand why the normally shrewd countess would allow the waitress to travel with the nobility, perhaps it was to give Drake Walker a playmate (one has to entertain pets, he supposed) he accepted it as a way to appease the people they ruled over.

Then New York happened. King Liam threw aside a well respected, birthed to perfection noble for that mongrel American who did not possess the first clue of how to behave amongst Cordonia's elite court.

Neville would have found it humorous if he was not permanently tied to his country.

To top it all off, not only was he forced to endure such unworthy company, he was shamed in front of them by some minor noble who had failed to win Liam. He blamed that brief moment of weakness for finding Lady Hana attractive on being inadvertently influenced by what had to be Drake and Riley's baser inclinations.

There was only one action left to a man so much more above these lowly peasants.

He was going to have to put these people in their proper place.

*******************

Liam knew that some of his fellow nobles took their positions as some sort of right in lording over those they considered their inferiors. It had never sat easy with him. He himself had a mother who had been a, "simple commoner". Yet, being in the tenacious situation he was in as a new king, he had to ignore for the most part their rude behavior.

But there was only so much he could stand when it came to the one he loved.

He knew something was going on the night of Madeleine's ball. As he stood on the other side of the ballroom, listening to Duke Godfrey drone on and on, he noticed Drake bump into the future earl. He knew there were very few nobles his best friend respected so seeing the flash of anger was normal.

Riley's though was surprising.

That unusual bitter twist to her normal, friendly smile followed by what he could only assume were heated words between his love and Neville made him feel the need to rush over and place himself between them. That desire to protect Riley was so strong that his body had already turned to leave Godfrey mid sentence.

But then Neville walked away.

Maxwell's brief sadness followed by Hana's irritation had him focusing once more on Riley's anger turning to resigned acceptance. Her relaxed stance returned as his group of friends found a table to sit and enjoy their meal.

He knew then that he would need to keep an eye on Lord Neville for the rest of the Unity Tour.

*****************

It didn't surprise him at all the insults and tension between Drake and Neville during the charity polo match. Liam felt sorry for Rashad and Maxwell being stuck on their team and forced to work with the two men that seemed to truly despise one another.

Liam also felt a large bit of pride when Riley used Neville's refusal to pass to Drake to score.

He also was relieved that Neville had not turned his disdain toward her.

Perhaps he was beginning to respect his future queen.

**************

It shouldn't have affected Liam like it did. Maybe it was the fact he was under so much pressure from keeping his father's cancer hidden, the fear from hearing he had been rushed to the hospital, all the terrorist attacks and threats, and then having to focus on pampered nobles instead of actually running his kingdom that caused him to lose his last shred of patience.

This ball was one that he had looked forward to. It would be the first of his escorting his Riley before the court. He had waited so long for such a moment to show his world how proud he was to have won her heart.

And Neville had to ruin it during their first dance.

The heated exchange of words escalated when Riley jumped in to defend Drake. Liam could see the utter hatred and lack of respect Neville had for the two people he was closest to. The way the young lord talked down to his beloved sent a bitter resolve through Cordonia's king.

"I've had enough of your insolence!" Neville snapped.

Liam saw his hand reach for his pocket and begin to withdraw a white glove. Before he could think through what he was about to do, he slapped Neville with the back of his hand, cutting short the challenge the lord was about to issue to Drake.

The entire court gasped. Silence fell as all watched this rare occurrence of Liam losing his temper.

"I've had enough of your insolence." Liam bit out. "Lord Neville, I challenge you to a duel."

Neville paled. His eyes darted around the ballroom, searching for anyone who might possibly be on his side. Seeing no sympathy, his chin lifted.

"I accept." His voice cracked slightly.

****************

"Liam, why are you doing this?" Riley gripped his hand as they walked out to the courtyard.

"I'm tired of his attitude." Liam explained. "Especially around you."

"I can handle his snide remarks." She countered. "What I can't handle is the thought of you possibly getting hurt."

Liam paused and slipped his arm around her waist. "You don't think I can take him?"

She smiled, looping her arms around his neck. "I know you can." She snared him with a tender kiss. "Just make it fast. There's a certain king I want to slow dance with."

His lips curved once more before turning toward the growing crowd. "As my queen wishes, so it shall be."

With a wink to her, he removed his sword from its sheath with a dramatic flourish.

Her delighted laughter followed him as he faced his opponent.

Neville swallowed uncomfortably as Constantine laid out the rules for the duel.

He barely managed to block Liam's blows, footsteps retreating most of the time. His lip curled into a snarl when the new king sliced into his blazer.

"My lady was right," Liam taunted, "that is a dreadful dinner jacket."

Neville's cheeks burned when those watching nearby chuckled. Each time he tried to make an offensive strike, Liam not only blocked it but somehow turned it into a point in his favor.

At one point they locked swords. Neville hated he had to tilt his head up to meet Liam's eyes. He hadn't expected to see the coldness there.

"You will apologize to Riley and Drake." Liam commanded in a low tone. "You will also never speak to either of them with such disrespect again."

"Why should I?" Neville breathed. "They need to learn to respect their betters."

"Really?" Liam's tone held a sinister edge. 

With an elegant spin that happened in the blink of an eye, he knocked his opponent’s sword out of his hand, caught it in mid air with his free one, and had both blades crossed with Neville's neck in the middle.

"Well done!" Constantine cheered from the sideline.

Riley let out a whoop as she hurried over to Liam's side. 

"Wasn't there something you wished to say to her grace, Lord Neville?" Liam asked

Neville's ready sneer died when he felt a slight nick to his tender skin.

"Forgive me, your grace." He managed to say without choking. "I will remember my manners when next we meet."

Riley gave a regal nod of acceptance.

Liam lowered the swords. "You're dismissed."

Neville scurried through the amused crowd, keeping his eyes downcast.

Riley yanked Liam into a passionate kiss once all the compliments were given and the crowd dispersed.

"My lady?" He asked with a grin. "What brought that on?"

"Nothing except my impressive Prince Charming fighting for me." She responded. "Perhaps he would like to find somewhere more private where I can better express my admiration."

"As you wish." He handed his swords to a servant as the couple sneaked away for a moment alone.

[kaetastic]

Where Have You Been? 2

pairing: Harry Potter x Slytherin!Potter!Aunt!Reader (no incest- just aunt and nephew battlin’ through evil :)), (possible future evolution to pairing with Sirius Black)

summary: After years blinded from the tainted power and lies, Y/N Potter finally sees the truth. The truth that urged her to clamber out of the hole created by the Dark Lord. Will young year-2 Harry accept the absence of an aunty he didn’t even know he had? 

word count: 4.8k

warning: fluff, heavy angst, guilt, mentions of death

note: lately, i haven’t found myself writing as much, i don’t think it’s w****r’s b***k, it’s just me being distracted by so many other things lmao. thank you for waiting this long for the second part, i’m pretty sure there’ll be a third :)) there’s no harry in this but i wanted to keep the pairing consistent

Harry was just a thirteen-year-old boy. He was a young wizard, trapped in the walls of muggles who wished they had nothing to do with his kind. There was no other safe place for the boy. If Y/N had not fallen into the rabbit hole that branded the mark on her arm, maybe she had the chance to keep her nephew with her. Y/N could do nothing about it. Despite her ideas of getting him out of that suffocating house, to finally enjoy the presence of someone she shared her blood with, to show him what magic truly was, she knew it would only place great danger onto him. Her life which had slanted down like that anticipated, fingers-digging-into-the-railing part of a roller coaster had gone from a flowery childhood to having no other alive family member if Harry was to be excluded. 

If the time she had been on the run was to be calculated, it would’ve roughly been thirteen years. Thirteen years of shifting houses to houses. Although, one year, she had feared for the loyal followers to be sent to capture her, the rest twelve, she had to constantly check over her shoulders for a sign of Aurors who were on a mission to chuck every last death eater into Azkaban. Y/N hoped the day where she would not have to leave a bed to enter a new one would come. The witch didn’t mind if it was sooner than said, it would be nice to open windows to the scorching sun with a cup of warm tea in her hands. It would be nice to walk on open streets without a heavy, ominous clock over her head. It would be nice to walk on the streets, not pathways that had been littered with spit. 

Although, the sweet victory taste she had dreamed for had turned bitter, acidic to her tongue as if those scenarios she wondered on for hours had been nothing but bait, a tease. The Privet Drive might’ve not been the best place for Harry, but it was the safest for the boy. Well, safer than going on the run with his aunt who had to keep glancing over her shoulders in case a shadow scurried after her. 

Even though the wizard had suggested he could follow her since she had magical blood, just like him, the witch had no choice but to turn him down. Even the frown on his face had embedded itself in her memories. The disappointment at the rejection of a better life with the sister of his father had plagued Harry’s time at school. Not before Y/N told him to not mention their meeting to a single soul. It might’ve been hard for the young boy, but he somehow managed… well, apart from his two other friends he had found a strong connection with. Harry had mentioned the name Hermione and Ron during the heart-aching conversation of the early morning in his bedroom. Unfortunately, it had been cut short when the witch had realized the time. 

Y/N was sick of scrambling around, running away and cowering from everything. Because she had not only feared the suppressed group that had gone either into hiding or had lied to not face the terrible consequences but also the Aurors. Aurors who had tied a price tag around her head. She couldn’t even defend herself. By that, the witch meant that the way her head had wrapped around the wrong she had done placed her perspective in an angle some people would not believe. In simpler words, Y/N believed- no, she knew that they wouldn’t spare a speck of mercy onto her soul. Even though she had thought of surrendering herself with hands high in the air, the Potter had not been dumb. Not to forget, she had pride. Pride to not give the golden trophy right into the hands of the Aurors. 

Then, she made a move. It had been a risky path she fell into, but she moved her Queen piece across the chessboard. The only piece she had defending her sole King. Y/N sent a letter to the headmaster of Hogwarts. Despite her worry about his response since he was in fact, the creator of the Order of the Phoenix, there was no need to overthink of the great wizard’s reply. Dumbledore waited for the day, not losing a bar of hope for the return of the witch. The day she would clamber out of the dark hole she had stumbled into. Taking a chunk of his busy and occupied time, the wizard had made time for her. It was not long before they met up at the place he had chided to her when she was just a twelve-year-old, the place he told her where one should go before they die. Although, the place didn’t live up to the wizard’s words as it had been nighttime, the perfect and safe time for her to be out of her lodging, and it had recently just rained.

“There isn’t anything I say that will defend for what I have done. What I’ve done… it’s unforgivable.” Her gaze trailed down to brush over the clumpy doughs of the drenched soil. The stretched-out shapes had been filled in with the recent shower from the tears of the clouds. Although, the teardrops had been pure, innocent without a speck of tainted colour, now- it was just clouded. Y/N wished that was how she remembered her horribly chosen youth. Unfortunately, it had all been crystal clear. Despite her trying multiple choices of blurring out the wrong she had done, every single moment plays in her head every night. It sat in her mind, permanently. 

With her lack of interaction with other wizards to minimize her appearance to the wizard community, obliviating herself wasn’t really an option. There had been some… pathetic muggle suggestions such as hurling her head against a wall. It didn’t take her long before she discarded the idea that would only cause more harm than good. Even though she wished she would not be reminded of such memories, she then remembered one of the few hopes that kept her hanging on that cliff. 

No one was placed at such a position like Y/N’s. Well, other than someone she had grown to associate with the passing of years while she was a death eater. Is it still ‘was’? Was the thing she needed to yank out of her chest in the past? The ‘tattoo’ still remained. As time passed, it had faded from the prominent ink. Even though Y/N felt joy unfurl in her chest at the thought of it becoming non-existent, ready to see her bare arm once again without the hideous memory from her past, it lingered. The mark stayed to torture her every second. The branding on her arm had been the last string that labelled her as a death eater. She had not found anything to remove it. Y/N had gone through books after books, crumbling pages to flying lines, unreadable handwritings to hidden, enchanted chapters. None had given her an ounce of hope she needed.

“There have been many people who’ve done nothing but wrong their whole lives, yet, they always had something to say. What makes you an exception?” The man quirked up, his silvery eyebrows jumped at her figure with his infamous words that had been packed full of knowledge and riddle. It had always been like that, ever since she was just a child, the man who still rocked his extensive beard had become a prominent feature. Although, the two lost contact as she dived into the side she was warned about during dinner. Dinners that lasted short, a smudged out memory. Y/N pressed her lips in thought, fingers twiddling without a slight intrusion in her head. A habit she had grown up with. And like as always, he cut her off with another sentence for her to process. “If I remember correctly, you mentioned in the letter that you have not done more than maiming someone.”

“In the name of the Dark Lord.” 

“Yes, but it was for your survival,” Dumbledore interjected. Oh, he always had his way with his speeches and his sentences. 

A sigh brushed her lips, creaking into the heavy air of the light wind toying with the hairs of trees as if they were puppets. Pushing her legs to rest her back against the bench that had been damp from the previous shower, Y/N murmured without peeling her eyes away from her fingers, “He killed Regulus. Regulus never came back, you know? After a trip, he was gone… forever. That’s what made me doubt my choices. His death was the sole reason I had left.”

“Regulus Black. Sirius’s younger brother.”

Y/N hummed while her arms slithered to wrap around her body, the chilling kiss of the air had been merciless to the defence of her clothing, “Regulus Arcturus Black. Whenever I was lazy to call his name even though it’s just seven letters, I called him ‘R.A.B’,” She let out a chuckle since it had been her joke for the boy to embrace the three letters as his signature, before the corners of her lips curled down in realization. “Although, now, I seem to find the longer being comforting.” 

“There’s no need to worry, what matters most is your safety. You must try to stray away from any sight of those who may seem interested. I will write a letter once Harry starts his third year.” Y/N nodded even though she was slightly reluctant to the life she would have to shift her own foot in. Deep down, she knew, no matter what other’s would say to comfort and calm down her nerves, she would always have something to fidget about. Something that came in the package when one falls into the Death Eater’s path.

It had barely been a month since she had met with the well-known headmaster, and Y/N hadn’t exactly found peace in continuing her life of being a criminal. The ability to sit still in a seat for longer than fifteen minutes was non-existent. Thoughts ran, scrambling from one side of her head to the other without rest. Every second, she would always have something to think of. A smart decision she made during her Hogwarts years was focusing during classes despite her side chores, so, it only became helpful when she needed a vial of ‘Draught of Peace’ or ‘Calming Draught’ to calm down her relentless thoughts. 

Harry recently started his third year at Hogwarts as the letter sent by the one and only, Dumbledore. The wizard had reminded her as he had promised; although, she remembered the day the students would be going back to school. Y/N could only stare into the abyss while she dreamed of walking onto the ground of the school once more. Oh, to feel the chilling stone walls during winter. She could only dream. 

It was for the safety of her nephew, and for her to stay in hiding that she didn’t write to the boy; even though she desperately wanted to. So, Y/N spent hours on the crooked wooden desk which had been slanted down, the folded piece of newspaper had begun to damp in the humid air, melting into the floor. The witch wasted hours of her day that flew by once she completed the letter to her heart’s desire. Days that stretched out when she didn’t occupy herself. 

She could barely count the number of lines she had scribbled down onto countless yellow sheets of paper. After a day of jotting down hefty block of paragraphs that was enough to build castles, she would stuff the pile of letters away, under her bed, or she would try her best to cram the sheets into the minuscule gaps between tattered books and the shelves. Most addressed to her nephew, now, just unsent thoughts that had been occupying her head, and desires of her heart which she had no one to pour out to. 

There was nothing Y/N could do. She was edging to the last sentence of her book, the last chapter of her story. If she was to stay, all she would have is Harry. Even so, she didn’t have him. The young wizard was hurled into the palms of her sister-in-law, muggles who hated whatever wizards were capable of. 

Maybe the only reason she reached out to Dumbledore was because she had information, intel that would be impeccably useful to the Order. Things the members wouldn’t even be able to smear against, things they can’t even imagine. Comparing herself to some members of the organization who had achieved great things in the available tasks by the Ministry, Y/N had seen far more than some of them has. She has seen gruesome sights, sights she wished she had glanced away from. However, she knew, she knew he was watching. 

That was her lifestyle now. The witch would have to suck it up, swallow the truth and deal with the reality she was stuck in. Stranded in a sole, pathetic room of a sad excuse of a building. Y/N had barely left the place she would have to call home. There had been multiple times the owner had tried to usher the lady out for a quick talk, Y/N did not want to risk anything. The only walls that had been present in the rented room were for the loo, that- she was grateful for. 

Then, news broke out into the wizarding community, it cracked over their heads like a spoiled egg, the yolk oozing out in a battered pace before it splattered into a squelch. News that sent everyone into a frenzy, news that made heads poked into corners of streets before they proceeded to walk the route they had been used to for years. News of the notorious Sirius Black breaking out of Azkaban. It was impossible. No one had fled away from the prison. He was the first. 

However, unlike most, Y/N knew things some didn’t know. It was not belief, rather, she knew the truth. Sirius Black did not do the things wizards and witches had whispered into each other’s ears. He was not capable of said-things. Y/N had met the man from his tight friendship with her older brother. Friendship that people had poked at him for being weak since he had shown his back to James. Those people knew nothing. They didn’t know how close they were for James to bring the boy to live at their house. They didn’t know that her parents had seen Sirius as their son. No one knew the truth, yet, they still let their words slip up into stubborn rumours. 

During her years of being a death eater, side-by-side with Regulus, her head held high without a quiver in her bone, Y/N had heard and seen things. Maybe some of them she should’ve not even eavesdropped on. It would’ve cost her life… she still did so. Y/N was meant to be in Slytherin, it was destiny that she had denied ever since the hat had spoken, and she saw her brother’s expression falter at the declaration. Despite her opposition to the situation, she wore the new shoes perfectly. The first few years, she was as close to her brother as she was before, any time she saw him in the corridor, she would wave, or they would pick up a desultory conversation. With that, he had introduced his friends. Y/N could see the tight rope around them, bonds she can’t see broken. Or so she thought. 

Then, it inched to her fourth year when she truly distanced herself. No, nothing would be blamed onto Regulus, no idea of his would be looked upon for the dead could not even defend himself. Y/N fell onto the path her parents had prominently warned her about. Their occasional talks about people who were surrounded with an aura that would send shivers down their spines sparked into muffled ears. Those lectures and lessons were all forgotten as Y/N found comfort standing beside the person she could not tear herself from. 

Walburga would accept the girl with warm embrace. Although, that came with its consequences. Y/N had to sit at the dining table, next to Regulus while the woman rambled poison-filled words about her parents who were not ashamed to be in the presence of muggles. The blinded girl did as her blurred head told her to do so, she tolerated the blows to her gut. It was only rare times when Regulus would speak up to stop his mother from hurling more onto the meal made by the elf. Despite Walburga’s hatred for Y/N’s parents, the woman had mentioned countless times that she had filled in the shameful place of her other son. Y/N was sure the empty space in her house had been plucked in with Sirius Black. 

Regulus would just be flushed with crimson red whenever his mother had brought up the two. She always took the chance to talk about how good they looked next to each other. There were few, forgotten times when she had dropped the word marriage. However, there was nothing but friendship between the two that would constantly burgeon, blossoming every second of every day. Walburga would swat it away, not believing them. 

It was true, despite the pureblood mother believing the two had something going on. It was nothing but friendship. Sure, there had been gentle kisses against cheeks, but it was nothing more. 

Everything then fell apart. She didn’t know who was amusing themselves by having a poke at the blocks of her life, but she knew it had wavered her platform. It was Regulus, then, it was her mother and father. The night when the elf had stumbled into the Grimmauld place, an ominous locket in his grasp, Y/N’s head went into a frenzy. She had never seen the creature look so distraught. The only reason she had remained at the house was because she had nowhere else to go. It wasn’t until days she would piece everything together. Regulus had gone, so the house-elf had confessed. The truth was not to be told to his family. How did anyone expect her to stay at the house she had made unforgettable memories? Y/N left, not even a farewell or a note for the family. 

The two had whispered conversations of the truth of becoming a death eater, they would do so under their breaths, afraid of who might listen. Whatever Regulus did, she did too. 

Kreacher said he had been ordered by Regulus to go back home with the locket, leaving the wizard to die. Y/N had screamed at the creature for his pathetic words, thankfully, Walburga nor Orion was at home. The two Slytherins had discussed of the Dark Lord’s attempt to murder the house-elf before they dived into countless pages, all so they could land to assume that the locket had been a Horcrux. The two eighteen-year-olds had just found out the deepest secret of the Dark Lord. And one of them died with the truth, while the other ran for her life.

If it wasn’t enough, Y/N could not even attend the funeral of her parents. The people she had not spoken to for years. She had listened to the words on the street that it was to Dragon Pox. It was then Y/N had to sit through excruciating months before she had the chance to visit their graves. The last she had seen their faces was a photo she had absent-mindedly packed before she had run away from home. If seeing her parents in flesh was in consideration, it was the sobbing mother who could not calm her hiccups in tears with every caress of her husband’s warmth. The photo might’ve been the best mistake she had ever made. 

In the midst of 1980, thoughts that would only surface when the sun no longer exists had steered the witch away from the path she thought she would be on until she bled to death. Just before she allowed the thought of living her life on the run consumed her, she had planned and listed out everything that would come as consequences if she was to proceed. That was when she tumbled over something. Still a death eater, she had stumbled upon the voice of a man who had been deeply trusted by her brother conversing with none other than the leader of the dark. His squeaky voice poured out every information he had about James and Lily. However, that was not the thing she had eavesdropped on. It was the fact that the man was Peter Pettigrew, the boy who would trail with the group. All so he could fall under the protection of the Dark Lord. What a grave mistake he had made. 

Y/N didn’t know what it was in her, but she then cut off any ties with the death eaters. That sounded easier than it truly was. There would be nights when she would feel her arm burn, flames piercing into her skin. He was angry, furious- she knew. All she could do was clutch onto the frigid sheets of the bed around her inflamed arm. She lived and survived, something she didn’t know how she came out successful, and lived her life on the run, always on edge. She stayed at multiple places, hoping the dark lord and his goons had not found her. To her luck, the pain dimmed down, she had only felt the faintest of a sting at the mark. 

Then, it was the unseen, unfortunate death of James and Lily. Y/N didn’t waste a second when she had heard a man regurgitate the words at the bar to sprint towards the house. The motionless figure of the man she once had picked on for accidentally wearing her jumper of an adorable bunny. So, she cradled his chilling body while streams of tears gush out of her eyes. There was no one left for her. That was, until she reluctantly pulled away from the corpse to follow the boisterous cries. Up the mess of a corridor and into a nursery with planks of wood decorating the floor She was met by a gruesome sight of her sister-in-law, flat on the ground, and the relentless toddler who the dark lord feared, her nephew.

Even though Y/N wished to spend more time, she had no choice but to peel herself away. She apparated away once she jumped through the window. Not long after, it was the rest of the Order’s turn to take in the event. 

Y/N knew there had been some death eaters who remained loyal to the dark lord despite his fall. Some had been locked up in Azkaban, while the rest still sauntered over streets casually. She knew some of them would be chasing after her, she knew the Ministry was searching for her, so why did she fall for the words scribbled by Dumbledore to meet up with Remus? 

“Sirius didn’t kill James and Lily.” Remus nodded, his eyes finding the sight of the pond to be more captivating. 

“I know.”

“Sirius didn’t murder those muggles.” Remus nodded once again.

“I know.”

“You know, yet, you had not defended the man when everyone’s ears had been stuffed with lies.” The wizard could only press his lips, lost in thought.

“Y/N, listen, we haven’t exactly been on the same path, but I feel like we are now,” The witch’s eyebrows furrowed. Remus swung from the same bench she had sat with Dumbledore. “I wanted to meet you when Dumbledore had told me he had met you. Although, I didn’t have a good excuse to do so. Now, I do.” 

His ominous words had only made her fingers crawl towards her wand. Neck snapping towards the rustling of leaves, she shot up from the seat, the wooden stick pointing towards the source of noise. With a spell murmured by Remus, her wand was out of her hand. She didn’t want to falter her gaze from the shadow that poured out of the bushes, but she couldn’t help her expression morphing into that of betrayal. Remus didn’t bother to send a face to comfort her. 

Y/N felt every muscle in her body freeze, every fibre was pulled taut before they remained stationary. The black dog paced towards her at a casual pace, almost approaching her carefully. Its eyes, it looked familiar. She had seen it somewhere. And no wonder… she had. Before her eyes, the dog transformed into a man who was dressed in tattered and shabby clothing of dull colours. The face of the man who had been plastered all across newspapers and streets, “Sirius?”

Maybe she should’ve panicked first, to why he had even put himself at risk, her even, but she reverted to another path. She saw Regulus in him. The infamous Black’s dark hair which Regulus would gingerly trim and take care of had flourished on Sirius’s head. 

“You’ve got to be joking me,” Y/N gushed out, the corners of her lips curled up in amusement even though she felt anything but amusement. “Are you out of your mind? You truly have gone insane in Azkaban.”

The witch turned to face Remus, “You too. Is this the plan of yours? What? To bag me up for the Ministry?”

Remus sighed out, his fingers splayed out against her wand, “Sirius wanted to meet you, the reason, he had not told me. This meeting is not a trick, no one knows Sirius is here.”

“Will you be holding my wand throughout this?” The man could only give her a slight nod of his head. Y/N let out a frustrated huff. “Fine, get on with it, I can’t wait to leave the country after this.” 

“Do you know of Peter’s boundaries?” Sirius’s voice sounded hoarse, raspy as if he desperately needed water. Maybe that’s what happens when one has just escaped a prison which was believed to prevent escapes.

Y/N’s face transformed into that of an offended expression, “Peter Pettigrew?” Once the man confirmed with a nod of his head, Y/N scoffed at the accusation. “What makes you think I know where he is?” 

“Well, you two bear the mark,” The words fell off his tongue without a care for her. “You two sold yourselves to Voldemort, it would only make sense if you knew where the traitor is.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but I have no idea of where he is.” 

Seconds morphed into minutes, minutes of Sirius’s eyes beaming onto her, “Have you bothered to search for him? Did you even know he was the one who sold out James and Lily to Voldemort?”

“I know a lot of things, Black,” Y/N sneered. “To satisfy your endless questions, I’ve done everything I could to find him when I happened to stumble upon his voice at the Malfoy’s home.”

“You knew that Peter was meeting with Voldemort and you didn’t bother to spend a cent on the thought that it would be James and Lily’s fall? Were you too busy snogging my brother?”

The mention of Regulus sparked up something in her chest, something that spun through hurricanes, Y/N’s expression hardened at the sight of the man, “Do not speak ill of Regulus.”

“Still defending my brother? You two never parted away from each other, every corner I turn at school, you two were always side-by-side.” Sirius could feel the corners of his lips curl up. 

“Sirius,” Remus interjected to stop the man, he knew this would not go well if the convict had not held himself back. 

“How hard it must’ve been for you to see him gone.”

Y/N could feel her fingers furl with every word he uttered, “He was your brother.”

“Was. I was exiled from my family, remember? You would remember clearly, I remember the day you left home to stay at that horrid place.”

“Sirius, that’s enough.”

“No! Remus! She must know the pain she inflicted onto her parents when she stepped away from that house, the sadness James drowned himself in when he couldn’t find any way to invite you to his wedding.”

“Would you stop mentioning my brother?”

“Oh, so now you consider him with sentiment? What happened to avoiding us?” 

“Are you done? I had only prayed the meeting with Remus to be civilized, yet, here you are.” She sneered. 

“Why do you fear of talking about James? Are you turning away like a coward? Now?”

“I don’t want to talk about James because I’m not in the mood for it, Sirius.”

“When are you in the mood then? Is it because you are saddened by the fact that you couldn’t take Harry when you visited their house?” Y/N accidentally allowed her eyes to widen at his words “You didn’t think we wouldn’t know?”

“I was in no position to take Harry.”

“You were in every position to take Harry!” Sirius yelled out, his veins popping up to bulge into the air. “You are his blood! His aunt! His godmother!”

“His what?”

taglist: @teheharrypotter​

[lokislittlesigyn]

OG616 : Thor: The Dark World - Pt.2 [Isolation]

[My masterlist, where all parts of this and my other fics can be found]

Pairing: Loki / Sigyn (basically an oc based off the marvel/myth namesake)

Warnings: None. again, unless you want a warning for sad sigyn and loki

Author’s Note: This one’s a bit longer. Apologies in advance for me being such a horse girl, I can’t help myself.

Taglist: @high-functioning-lokipath , @onaheroicmission

To be added to the taglist, just ask me here or send a message! <3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Frigga left, Sigyn looked around her room. With the exception of her dirty riding boots off in the corner and a few books and papers lying around, the room was practically untouched, as intended.

What would he want?

She paced a moment. Stopped. The bed… She smoothed her fingertips over the soft, velvety bedspread. Deep sapphire, with silvery accents. She smiled slowly, thinking of countless lazy mornings spent under it. He’ll like this.

She turned, surveying the room. Think. What will he be doing? Probably lots of reading… I should send him books. Where does he like to read...

She looked to their set of chairs and accompanying footstools, which were covered in a similar soft, deep blue fabric. Perfect.

Sigyn gathered a few more things: The book he’d been reading before his fall. A pitcher of water - and one of his favorite wines. A book of spells. Finally, she grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote a short note before folding the paper and tucking it into one of the books. Perhaps she’d do this again, in the future - send him books with letters, little love notes reminding him that someway, somehow, they’d see each other again. She clutched the book to her chest.

~~~~

Later, Sigyn went to Frigga, explaining what she wanted sent to Loki. The queen assured her the items would reach him, and explained she’d arranged for a few other pieces to be sent. Namely a bed, and a washing stand. But before Sigyn left, Frigga stopped her.

“Child,” Frigga said.

Sigyn turned, facing her. “Yes?”

“Please, do not seek Loki out. The Allfather has forbade you do so.”

Sigyn exhaled, nodding. She’d guessed Odin would forbid it - he’d be a fool not to. But then, perhaps he was a fool to think he could keep her away from him…

“I know.”

Frigga looked at her pointedly. “Promise me you won’t go to him yet. For now, these gifts will have to do.”

Silence hung between them.

“Promise me, Sigyn. Please. If you want any chance of seeing him, you must be patient.”

Sigyn’s shoulders sunk slightly. She nodded. “I.. I promise. I’ll wait. I trust you to tell me when it’s.. Suitable.. To speak to him.”

Frigga stood a moment, considering her words. “Good. Thank you.”

~~~~

Loki stood in the center of a crisp, white room. It felt sterile. Cold. Contrasting with what sat in the room - a bed, which he supposed Frigga must have had sent. It was plain, only having sheets and a set of plain pillows atop it. Perhaps Odin would only allow so much comfort. Besides that, and a washing stand with a bowl of clean water, the only other thing in the room was himself.

He turned to his right, faced the glowing orange barrier that separated him from the outside world.

Would death have been better than this? This life, separated from everyone and everything? Hatred was better than apathy, that much he knew. But isolation…

Could he find solace in it?

The dungeon doors opened. A troop of Einherjar, accompanied by a few women - thralls, by the looks of it - walked to Loki’s cell.

“Stand back.” Tyr, the Einherjar leader and seasoned old warrior, held his sword at the ready. The sorcerer at Tyr’s side cast a spell, and the barrier slowly receded, fading like an ebbing tide. 

Loki smiled coyly and stepped back with his hands held aloft. “Why, I had no idea you’d bring me gifts..” He eyed the furniture they brought in, his brow furrowing slightly. That chair - one from his bedroom. His footstool. The women brought in water, wine, and fruit, all set on a table. Another woman placed a pile of blankets on his bed - no, not just any blankets. His blankets. Finally, another woman set two books in front of him and quickly backed away, behind the Einherjar whose spears were pointed at Loki’s throat. 

“How very generous.” Loki sneered at the warriors.

“These are not ours,” Tyr said as the sorcerer re-cast his spell. The barrier flowed back in place, seeming to solidify. “They are from your wife.” 

Loki merely watched him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he kept his jaw firm, his expression unwavering. “Send my regards.”

Tyr gave him a look. Without another word, the troop left, the heavy dungeon door shutting behind them with an echoing thunk.

Loki glanced at the food and water, only now realizing how hungry he was. Touched the back of the chair - still soft. Walked to the books, picking one up in each hand. The first, he recognized as one of his favorites - a book of spells he often reviewed. He sat it to the side. The second, he realized was a book he’d been reading through before, though had never finished…

He swallowed. Dragged his fingers along the old cover, then tugging the bookmark gently, he flipped it open to the page he’d left it at.

A piece of paper fell to the ground. He caught it just in time, standing back upright and setting the book aside to unfold the note. It was Sigyn’s handwriting.

My dear husband…

Words cannot express my love for you, nor the pain I have felt in your absence.

I cannot imagine the pain and anger you must feel. But believe me when I say, you are not alone. You are never alone. Mother and I are here for you. 

We will find a way to help you. And in time, we will be together again.

I love you.

Yours always,                             Sigyn

Loki’s gaze drifted up from the note, to the barrier of his cell, then beyond it to the door.

Out and to the left. Up, until you reached the main level of the palace. Then up again, with a few turns, would lead you to their room - it was safe there. A place entirely their own, calm and quiet and familiar. She’d be waiting there - waiting for him.

She was probably waiting now, after Odin demanded she be kept there.

Both of us in isolation.

Loki folded the note, tucking it back into the book, which he left on the table. He walked to the bed. Grabbing the blanket, he brought it up to his face - his fingers twitching into a fist as he did. It smelled like her, sweet and warm. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent…

After a moment, he opened his eyes. Laid down on the bed, on his side, clutching the blanket in a tight embrace. 

~~~~

Weeks passed. Sigyn kept her promise to Frigga, never once daring to venture too close to the dungeons. Eventually, she grew bored of staying in the palace, where her good behavior would be on display for all the Einherjar, who were no doubt reporting her actions to the king. It had been long enough, hadn’t it? She could stand to leave the safety of Valaskjalf and venture into the city...

So one morning Sigyn slipped on her boots and sleek riding outfit and went to the stables. She could feel the Einherjar’s gaze follow her as she walked, as though expecting her to make a beeline for the dungeons. And as much as she desperately wanted to run down there as fast as her legs could carry her, she still had a promise to keep. She had to wait. 

She reached the stables just as the bleak morning gave way to golden sun. Breathed in the deep, calming scent of hay. She smiled.

“Princess,” A stablehand greeted her, walking one of the horses in from pasture. “Shall I saddle your horse?”

“I’ll saddle him, thank you.”

The boy nodded. “He’s out in the eastern paddock.”

Sigyn thanked him, making her way through the grand stable - a few friendly faces greeted her along the way, big brown and blue eyes turning her way, ears swiveling to catch her footsteps when she passed.

Out in the paddock stood her sturdy dapple grey horse, Villieldr. His name meant wildfire - a name which suited his free spirited nature. Next to him, a chestnut whose satiny coat shone the same color as rust: Sinir. Sinewy, his name meant, and his lean, muscular figure certainly reflected that. They were both geldings, and after so many rides together over the years, they’d become close stablemates.

“Sinir,” Sigyn cooed, and the chestnut turned her way, twitching his shoulder. Loki’s horse always had a soft spot for her. Villieldr walked out to meet Sigyn, his velvety muzzle blowing grass-scented air over her face. “Mm, I missed you too.” She giggled, gently pushing his nose away. 

Sinir ambled over, and Villieldr tilted his ears back at the approach.

“Hush, you baby.” Sigyn scratched under his chin, then turned to the chestnut. “Hello, friend. I’m sorry Loki hasn’t been around to see you… You must be missing him, too.” 

Sinir lowered his head as she stroked his neck.

“In fact… Forgive me, Vill, but I think Sinir needs some proper attention.”

After giving Sinir breakfast and a thorough brushing, then dressing him in the tack Loki had chosen for him, Sigyn eased into the saddle. She clicked her tongue, and he sprung forward, eager to finally be going somewhere. All the horses were allowed to roam the paddocks throughout the day on a regular rotation - and when necessary, stable hands would exercise them. But Sinir had, no doubt, been bored in his master’s absence. Loki was forever his favorite person.

Villieldr’s distraught whinnies carried over the wind. He was pacing at the portion of the paddock nearest to the entrance, snorting, with his ears pinned back.

“I’ll be back tomorrow!” Sigyn smiled despite herself when Villieldr whinnied again, and led Sinir down toward the city.

Through the streets they rode, past houses and merchants and taverns, down to the rainbow bridge. 

Sinir tensed beneath her when they approached the Bifrost, his trot growing choppy.

“Want to run?” She stood in the saddle, squeezing his sides - he didn’t need any other signals. Sinir moved into a hurried canter, then soon into a gallop, bouncing Sigyn down the bridge until she found his stride.

By the time they made it to the observatory, Sinir’s coat shone with sweat. 

“Ho,” Sigyn slowed him down, slipping out of the saddle once he was still. “What a brilliant boy you are,” Sigyn stroked his neck and he arched it, his head low. “Thank you for the ride.” She ground tied him, then walked into the Observatory.

“How fare the realms, Heimdall?”

The Gatekeeper stood with his back turned to her, staring out the grand window of the Observatory. Naturally, he wasn’t at all surprised by her approach. 

“Full of unrest, my lady. Raiders continue to pillage and plunder, souls are left lost without homes.”

Sigyn stopped next to him, crossing her arms. “I suppose there’s no way to help from here...”

“Einherjar have been dispatched across the realms. Prince Thor, as well.”

“And the Warriors Three?”

“Mm.” Heimdall nodded. “They fight bravely.”

“Do you see Midgard, Heimdall?”

“Of course.”

“How do they fare?”

“After the battle?”

Sigyn nodded.

“Humans are surprisingly resilient creatures - they will rebuild. Even now, Thor’s new friend Stark rebuilds his tower.”

“How far can you see, Heimdall?” She inched closer to the window, watching the vastness of the sky. Even during the day, Asgard’s light only shone so far into the endlessness of Yggdrasil. There before her lay an endless ocean of space, full of planets, galaxies, and nebulae. It felt as though if she leaned too far, she’d fall into it.

She stepped back, looking at Heimdall, who was now watching her.

“What is it you seek?” He asked, seeing right through her question.

“After Loki fell, did you see him? Were you able to see him at all?”

“No.. If I had, I would have told you as soon as I found he was alive.”

Sigyn shifted her weight. Wherever Loki was, for whatever reason he was with those creatures in that mysterious abyss, none of it could be good. Something must have happened there, something that inspired him to attack Midgard…

“What about now?”

Heimdall smirked. Turned, his gaze settling on Asgard. “Reading in his bed. He seems content, all things considered.”

Sigyn exhaled a relieved breath. “Thank you.. I may return, ask you to check on him from time to time..”

“I’d be happy to, my lady.” He offered a small nod as she left.

~~~~

That night, Sigyn sat at the table in her chambers. One half of the chair set was gone, now - thought the thought of Loki using his half of it made its absence easier to bear. 

She grabbed a fountain pen and a piece of parchment.

My love,

I took Sinir for a ride today. He misses you - as do I. Vill was less than enthusiastic about it, but he’ll come around. Perhaps you’re right about him being spoiled.

I hope you are enjoying the gifts, if you can call them that: they’re yours anyway, after all. 

Someday we’ll go for a ride together again. I’m sure of it.

         Yours,                                                               Sigyn

Sigyn folded the paper, slipping it into a book of poetry and setting it aside, to be given to Frigga in the morning. She glanced toward the bed. 

Empty.

It shouldn’t be empty. Not now, not when Loki was so close… 

“Promise me you won’t go to him yet.” Frigga’s words echoed in her head.

She had to be patient. But she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep that promise…

Sigyn grabbed a blanket and settled back into the chair, closing her eyes.