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hecohansen31 · 4 years

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Of Faes and Goblins

Fae! Aethelred+Changeling! Reader+Goblin! Ivar

(A/N): Happy birthday, Sophie, @maggiescarborough!

So to celebrate your beautiful day and to show how much we support you and apprecciate all you do for this beautiful comunity, we thought of sharing with you a few creations to celebrate properly your lovely day!

My idea is basically an interactive story, as in: you’ll be faced with a few choices and you’ll decide the turn of events of the stories, so be sure to let me know what you prefer to happen and I’ll try my best to follow your choices.

For the rest, do enjoy the surprise and the idea!

Have a lovely birthday, beautiful! (with not too much heathen and your beloved sickly looking Saxons!).

SUMMARY: After your life turned out to be a complete lie, you find yourself faced with many choices and even more importantly with two annoying males.

WORDS: 9,8 K

WARNINGS: Mention of Violence, Kidnapping, Fighting (yeah this is very much taken from ‘The Dark Faerie Tales’ by Holly Black), Everybody is A Faerie.

Changeling were extraordinary creatures.

And you had been lucky enough to be one of them.

You had discovered it once you had moved back to Ireland, having transferred to North America for a scholarship after high school, feeling like Ireland was too tight for your dreams.

A sensation only worsened by your mother’s horrible mental health…

… although with time you had discovered that she knew the truth, all along.

Since you had had memory, your mother had said you weren’t his child, gaining quite the judging of everyone around her, and right after she had started making such claims, doctors had dosed her with medical drugs to keep her tame.

Even more after she had even tried to leave you in the wood nearby your family’s manor, the one you stayed at with your grandma.

Your grandma was the only person that had constantly supported you and she was the woman who had raised you as your own mother laid in bed, either passed out for the drugs or trying to ignore you, since only seeing you would make her faint.

Eventually your grandma had been the one to push you away from Ireland, suggesting that you pursued your dream outside of the beautiful land that had been your sole home.

She had given you the strength to believe in yourself, although the first years in America had been passed adapting yourself at its big cities and its enormous crowd.

But now that you were back from them, you felt almost uneasy in the small village you had grown up with, everybody looking too changed and yet the same, looking at you with distrust and envy, although you hadn’t become a famous star or an important businesswoman.

But the fact that you had escaped that strict mentality was enough.

You had come back for the same person who didn’t want you there.

As of lately your mother’s heart had been thoroughly weakened by the drugs (medical and not) and she had already had an heartattack.

Your grandma had explained it to you in one last call that sadly your mother’s life was becoming thin, pleading with you to come back, although you weren’t sure that your mother wanted you back.

You weren’t her child, after all.

At first, as a child, the way she uttered those words had hurt you in ways that pierced your tiny skin, making you completely detached from the affection of that woman, soon starting to call her simply by her name and nothing else.

And even sooner you had erased her figure, pushing your grandma in her place.

But now even she was tired, and you could hear her ache in the tone of her voice.

Although your mother might not want her title, your grandma still remained her mother and she suffered for both of you her mistakes.

Eventually you had been convinced by your mother, herself, a secret call, at 3 a.m. in the morning telling you to come back, because the faeries had told her that if she gave you back, they’d make her see one last time her true child.

‘… my inion’ the way the name had sounded on the tip of her tongue made you uneasy, because you had never heard it, but you had reasoned with yourself that maybe in your mother’s delusional words there might be some kind of truth.

And there was.

Almost too much.

Back then you had simply thought that she had finally come to the conclusion that you were her daughter.

So, seeing you again would have allowed her to rationalize and finally accept you as her daughter, something for which you strived for, although you had for long years tried to convince yourself that her approval didn’t matter, in the slightest.

But any hope had disappeared when after a flight of twelve hours, your mother had refused to face you, much to your grandmother’s and your annoyance, although the older woman welcomed you in again as a warm mother, having cooked your favorite meal, something that brightened your mood.

You spent a nice few days back in Ireland, although your mother didn’t seem interested into acknowledging your presence and whenever you were together, she’d stare at you with mighty intensity in her eyes and once you had heard her mutter ‘when will they come for you, silly girl? I want my real child back’.

And in that moment, you had dreaded the thought that had come to your mind.

You had wished that she would have just died.

It was less embarrassing, and it would have been a trauma she could deal with, instead of being stuck in the eternal limbo of ‘will she ever love me? Or will I be for ever the faeries’ daughter?’.

But then that fateful night had happened, and you had been the one thinking that you had grown as crazy as her, as you heard a melodic song being sprung from nowhere.

Something ancient that couldn’t be found on Spotify for sure, although you loved it.

But it just wouldn’t let you sleep, and eventually you peaked outside of your house to check what was going on, although you wouldn’t be surprised to find your neighbor having a concert.

They were quite the musical people.

But it was none of that.

And once you had moved a step outside of your house, the music seemed to slowly lead your step.

And although you weren’t aware of it, soon your body was led through the wood around your manor.

The moon was the only source of light and as you looked up, the music interrupted itself suddenly.

And you were in the middle of nowhere, in simply your skimpy pajama of an awful color from too many washings, and a big print of a teddy bear on it, the writing next to it completely scraped off, nothing as luxurious as the dresses of the people around you.

You almost thought that your neighbor were having a Renaissance fair in the middle of woods, some kind of ‘Shakespeare in the park’ movie, although the dresses belonged to every period in history and not a peculiar one.

Women were dressed in round gowns, puff and big, and tight corsets, meanwhile men looked like they had come from the nearest BDSM club, all dressed in leather and open shirts.

And the jewels they wore, both males and females: silver and gold that shone so bright, absorbing almost the brightness of the moon, intensifying it with their colors and the gems shone of every color in the rainbow, sometime even all together.

And for a moment you were so lost in your rapture that you forgot to wonder what was truly happening here.

The only thing that could come up to your mind was the Hamelin’s flautist, driving the mice to their demise, something that made a sudden shiver fall down your spine, even more when you noticed that they were all somehow armed.

And that wherever the moon didn’t touch, their skin seemed anything but human, having some present slight deformation and animalistic traits, enough that you thought to have wandered in a fairy tale.

A dark one, such as the ones that the Grimm’s brothers wrote.

‘Lady (Y/N)’ somebody called out to you, but you couldn’t identify anyone speaking, almost as if the voice had its original place in your mind, calling out to you loudly, in a way that gripped tight your skull, keeping your eyes on the fable-like cortege ‘… we hoped to meet you again’.

‘… I don’t…’ your voice sounded silly and echoed in your empty head, suddenly cleared of anything else other than that voice and the images of that magic in front of you.

This must be a crazy nightmare.

Or a horrible joke.

‘… she doesn’t know when to shut up’ this time it was a feminine voice, harsh and tight ‘… are you sure, my son, that she is the one you want to choose?’.

Her voice concealed an obvious disgust, almost as if it was painfully obvious that you were beneath her.

Then why had they come for you.

‘I don’t understand what is going on’ you breathed out, finally able to push the words out, although the woman’s words still echoing in your head ‘… I should be in bed… is this… is this a dream?’.

You almost wanted to mutter that ‘it must have been “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” ‘.

‘… no, it isn’t’ the male voice was low, almost comforting and the tightness in your skull was lightly relieved allowing you to feel more comfortable.

Suddenly you felt your breath quickening up, enough that you feared a panic attack.

‘… then if this is a joke, it isn’t funny!’ your voice spoke loudly ‘… you take the newcomer in city and give her the scare of her life! That’s what you fuckers do! If this is it, I won’t tell the cops, but you have to let me go!’.

‘It isn’t either a joke’ the male voice was different, evidently deeper, almost as if who spoke was more grown up ‘… and whatever human forces you want to conjure they won’t help you’.

This brought dread to your stomach and your breath quickened, enough that you felt choking yourself up deeply, and soon all the air in your lungs finished, and it didn’t take you much to see black.

You woke up in an unknown place, smelling heavenly, something that eased your senses, meanwhile whatever you wore was as delicate as a petal, comfortable enough that it brought you to shift in bed, till you realized that your pajama would have been quite less comfortable.

Hence somebody had had to change you in whatever you were now wearing.

For a few minutes you hoped unrealistically that it had been your grandmother, although you were aware of not owning such luxurious garments.

It would have been a nice dream, before you woke up to the reality.

That seemed more like the dream itself.

You were inside what seemed like a flower, the light barely flicking through the rosy walls of utter silk, meanwhile they closed and opened around you almost as a flower, and the smell was also delicious, lulling and clean.

But then your reason finally came back.

And you realized that you weren’t at home, no matter how reassuring the atmosphere was.

You had been kidnapped.

By some kind of weirdos in tight robes.

Gosh, could it have sounded more like a drugged-out dream?

Had you accidentally taken some medicine from your mother’s cabinet?

But then as you turned lightly your skin was scratched by something and you saw a rose being laid on the pillow next to you, its thorns lightly gracing your face, making you realize that if you were feeling pain… this wasn’t a dream.

And you had seriously fallen asleep inside a flower, like Thumbellina.

But what truly got a scream out of your throat as your senses came back was the purple-skinned girl next to your bed, checking on you, as she folded a ridiculously puffy dress, unlike the simple one she wore, matching her golden feline eyes.

Her legs were also animal-like, almost as the one of a tiger, slender and hairy, colored of a bright orange that clashed with much strength against her skin color, effectively taking your mind away from the thought of being in danger.

Till she screamed back at you.

And you jumped out of bed, grabbing the first thing that you could see in your line of sight, which was a lamp, made of wood, with a small spirit inside of it, shielded by glass, the small being protesting loudly, with its fists, something that almost made you lose your grip onto the delicate object, saved by the purple girl, half-tiger and half-human.

If she was human.

Although you hadn’t seen many blue humans.

But if she wasn’t human… this opened so much possibilities that tricked with your mind.

“… my lady…” she didn’t seem to be in slightest much more informed or calmer than you “… you should calm down”.

But you didn’t and moved to collect something else, to shield and protect yourself, eventually settling on a pillow full of daisy, the same one where you had laid your head till a few minutes before.

“… where the fuck am I?” your voice was low, but it broke lightly in the end with hysteria.

“My lady, you are safe” the purple being spoke, as she settled down the lamp on its rightful place, lightly brushing against you, as you pushed the pillow in front of your chest, accidentally making a few daisies fall down onto your feet “… nobody will hurt you”.

“… I was kidnapped! You have already hurt me!” you replied tightly, choking on the words, as you felt another attack coming onto you, and the woman gently held you up “… I should go back home! I need to go back home!”.

“You are home, my lady” you were honestly annoyed by the way she pronounced your title, almost as if it was the most normal thing ever.

As if you belonged there.

“… this isn’t my home! My grandma isn’t here brushing away my hair and there isn’t even that bitch of my mother… Gosh I am fucking missing her right now!” your outburst strangely excited the small fire being in the lamp and as you looked at it too closely, shielded from it by your pillow, meanwhile the tiger-lady moved away, clearly thinking you needed your space.

The small creature was male-like, naked and with flaming hair, changing colors as the intensity of the flame became stronger.

And it talked, although it whispered lowly, almost child-like, chanting what seemed a bawdy dirge and you cursed again, being mimicked by the small being.

“… perfect! Kidnapped and pushed to meet a fucking perv of a fire spirit” you commented, gently caressing your forehead “… this can’t be true! Magic doesn’t exist!”.

“It does” the voice was different from the one of the blue-skinned being and it was much louder than the fire spirit’s one, although it seemed quite young, and you remembered you had heard it in the clearing.

And when you raised your eyes from the pillow you found a charming young man, barely younger than you, with long flowy hair, coming to his shoulder in light waves at its end, of a dark color that highlighted his enchanting blue eyes.

He wore a complex robe, although it seemed much more relaxed than the one you had seen in the clearing, having shed any elegant and expensive detail, except for a few earrings that caught your attention, pushing itself onto the peculiar shape of his ears.

They were pointy.

Like faeries.

You knew that people sometimes would undergo surgery to obtain such a shape, and you had been blessed with slightly pointy ears, something that had made many Halloween costumes easy for you.

But the way his ears looked…

… it seemed natural.

Because it was.

“Niahm, can you please leave us alone?” he spoke, although again his lips didn’t open, and you wondered whether it was again only in your head or you were starting to go mad.

But also the tiger-lady seemed to have heard it, bowing her head to the beautiful man, as she moved outside, leaving you alone with him and you quickly managed to grab again the lamp, moving into a defensive position.

“Don’t think of hurting me, bastard” you muttered between gritted teeth “… I’ll destroy this and set you on fire”.

A sad smile appeared on his face, almost as if he was amused, but understood your reasonings and something in you relaxed strangely, as the man moved to push himself onto the bed, putting a lengthy distance between you and him.

And then you ran.

Ran outside, but before you could do much more, as soon as you shifted the curtains that were the walls of the chamber you found yourself almost falling to your demise, since outside of the whatever you had waken up in, there was nothing.

And underneath it, the ground… many many meters under you.

“… what the hell” your voice was low, and you quickly turned behind, closing the curtain behind yourself, as the young man looked at you with a knowing smirk.

“Smart move” he commented “… you don’t have wings sadly. Pixie sometimes are lucky enough to have them, but you don’t seem to be the type”.

“… pixie?” you asked, as slowly you felt everything you knew crumbling to the ground, your own knees buckling up underneath you “… this can’t be true”.

“It is true” replied the young man, adjusting on the bed, although he seemed rather elegant, also with his legs crossed in a relaxed position, making you notice that although his legs were lithe, he certainly had the posture of a royal person.

Head straight and clear eyes.

“… faeries exist, exactly like magic, and deep down you know, (Y/N)” again that voice in your head and you stupidly went to close your ears to prevent yourself from listening onto him “… you know because you are one of us, truly”.

And slowly, almost as if a cover had been opened from one of the trunks of your memory, slow images appeared in your mind, of you seeing faeries everywhere.

Meanwhile you were lost in the woods, after your mother had left you, small dwarves leading you back home, as they gifted you a wreath of roses and thorns that didn’t bite your skin.

Meanwhile you collected flowers for your grandmother, a few small faeries helping you, as they played with your hair, taunting you with soft whispers.

Meanwhile you left Ireland, a small cohort of little magical creatures accompanying you as you left your home.

And all of this had been hidden in your mind since you had left Ireland.

You had known magic, indeed, because you were one of them.

You were a changeling.

As your mother had told you.

“… my life…” you felt yourself choking up on your own tears, as the man quickly moved closer to you, dropping on the floor in front of you, as you shifted your face away, not wanting to show weakness, although again your eyes were beginning to be quite clouded “… my life is a lie”.

“And my mother knew it all about it” blame shifted in your body, as you remembered how easily you had called her ‘crazy’ all this time, when she had known all the truth about it “… this isn’t right, still… aren’t… aren’t changelings supposed to live with the humans?”.

The young man retreated from you, almost as if your lips had mumbled a tight accusation against him.

“… you are to marry my brother”.

Hadn’t all of this been quite crazy already, you would have started crying.

But instead you giggled hysterically, before you realized that he wasn’t joking.

“I don’t even know you!” you screeched, and before he knew it, your hands had clawed at his shirt, but as your hands came in your full view, you noticed that if you had thought that the crazy tiger-lady looked weird in blue and orange, you were now a shade of mauve that almost made you think you weren’t in your body anymore.

But you were a faery, after all, now.

It shouldn’t have shocked you that much.

Although it was utter crazy.

“… well then I can solve that quickly!” replied the boy, almost as if you hadn’t broken down two times already “… I am Alfred, and you are marrying my brother, Aethelred!”.

“That doesn’t solve much” your voice was grim, but you were too tired to fight, already thinking about the fact that you had discovered that you were a faery for a minute and you already were in a crazy amount of troubles.

“I can’t marry him”.

“Not with that attitude!” commented another voice, deeper and definitely much more mainly and you turned to take a small peak at whoever had joined you, discovering that the man was quite the picture of Alfred.

Same light eyes and dark hair, but he had a more mainly appearance, with a fresh unshaven beard and tight muscles, definitely much more robust than Alfred, who lightly ducked his head low, at that appearance, some sense of uneasiness shining in his eyes.

Meanwhile the other man’s showed arrogance as they took you in.

And it didn’t take you a genius that you were looking at your future husband.

“… I don’t think that I am even remotely ready to marry someone” you spoke loudly, spurred on by that amused annoyance you saw in his eyes, meanwhile his lips moved in a smirk and you pushed yourself up, although it didn’t solve much since you were still much smaller than him.

“Who is every ready?”.

“Don’t you have something smarter to say than idiotic answers” you replied, hissing through his teeth, as you pushed him away lightly, feeling like you were trying to push away a wall of muscles.

“… I don’t want a stupid changeling as my bride” he uttered wickedly, his humor certainly reminding you more of the faeries you had read about, accompanied but the dangerously darkness that characterized them, although they might dress in pink tulle and ride white unicorns.

“… I don’t want whatever the fuck you are as my husband” you mimicked him, crossing your head over your chest, solely now noticing that you weren’t wearing anything more than a nightgown that was the same color of your skin, making you seem naked.

“Aethelred, don’t taunt her” Alfred’s voice suddenly seemed deeper, laced with a troubled annoyance, and he set himself between you both, almost thinking that there might have been some kind of fight from you two, and you just watched the haughty faerie in front of you with your best glare.

“Mother wouldn’t like it to see you talk like that to your future bride” continued on reprimanding him loudly Alfred, and this time the arrogant annoyance became a truly hateful feeling and you couldn’t deny that you wouldn’t have liked it either, if your younger brother treated you like that.

“Mother doesn’t fucking care. She just wants to continue on screwing her pathetic humab lover…” the comment scandalized Alfred, but before he could say anything, Aethelred’s attention turned to you “… you aren’t one of us, you’ll only taint my bloodline, with your dried up blood”.

“Don’t worry, I don’t have any intention to even come near your prick” you retorted loudly “… I do think that you probably find much more pleasure from whatever is showed up your fucking ass”.

This seemed to take him by surprised, as a strange mixture of admiration appeared in his eyes before turning in a devious smirk, his eyes shifting onto your body, as you shielded it, eventually turning around, wanting to grab your pillow and smother the arrogant asshole.

“… you shouldn’t have sent away the maid” now he talked with his brother like you didn’t exist anymore, but you were thankful they weren’t using the mind trick anymore “… you know that mother won’t appreciate it if she is either late or in a nightgown for the Promise”.

“What Promise?” you intervened, but the brothers now kept on talking between themselves, an embarrassed look on Alfred’s face “… somebody will fucking tell me what is going on? Or will I be also kidnapped for this fucking Promise?!”.

“Preferably not” sarcasm and sass was much better than nothing “… it is a ceremony before our marriage, where we promise that we won’t stab each other in the back”.

“… romantic” you muttered “… but believe me, even a swear won’t hold me back from stabbing you”.

“Faerie swears mean much more, although I do have to admit that you have the amazing ability to lie, having lived with humans for so long…” he commented “… that’s why you are here, our secret weapon”.

“What do you mean?”.

Why had these people all made this without even asking for your opinion.

“…call her maid” Aethelred simply sent you one last look before turning around.

Pity.

And you never wanted to feel like that.

Alfred seemed almost halfway through doing that when your voice became a tight whisper.

‘… can you give me a minute?’.

A minute of privacy.

A minute with the only person who didn’t seem to know everything that had been going on.

A minute to understand what you’d truly have to do to escape all of this.

Because there was no way you’d get married to that prick.

In the end you had tried not to question too much your faerie origins.

You had a much more urgent problem in your hands.

A marriage you didn’t want to attend.

A marriage in which you were a bride.

It was still difficult for you to understand what they truly wanted from you, but you wouldn’t have stayed for the real ceremony, although you hadn’t yet figured out a way to run away and go back to civilization, since you were closed off in some kind of ancient tower that looked like a flower.

Stranded away in the middle of nowhere.

So, you would have played the nice girl, till you found out how to run away.

You might not have had wings, but faeries usually had some kind of magic, so maybe you would have been lucky enough to have the power to teleport you away from all of this shit, something that you had childishly tried when the faerie maid, Niahm, had left you in bath alone.

You hadn’t found any kind of sharp objects you could use as a weapon.

You had tried breaking some kind of smelly bottles, probably filled with perfume, but they had just bounced off the wall even when you had thrown them across the bathroom, making you feel even more at unease.

Because not only you felt at danger.

But you felt damnably useless.

And pitiful.

Almost a child being dressed up in elegant gown and long dresses.

A child who had been stolen away and brought up in the human world.

You almost expected some fairy to take your hand and push you by their side as they brought you down the wedding hall.

Which should be what had happened, had they thought that they could marry you off, easily.

You would have thrown a worse tantrum than a spoiled brat in front of an entire faerie court, for sure.

Because if there was one thing that you knew in your bones about the people that you had seen around you, those two brothers were royals, truly with the way they acted and how expensive their dresses seemed.

And you wouldn’t have been married off easily.

Because you were wanted for some talent of yours.

Your had something they wanted.

And that made you valuable cargo.

No matter how annoyed Aethelred was with you.

And if there was one thing you were looking forward more than simply running the hell away from here, it was pissing off that asshole.

You were soon ready and when you stepped out of the bathroom Niahm checked you further, adjusting your dress and pushing your washed hair up, meanwhile she smudged lightly some make-up on your eyes.

‘It’s the trend of the season in the court’ she spoke as she took you in ‘… you’ll be the prettiest’.

“I better” you mumbled, annoyedly “… I might be kidnapped but I refuse not to look anything but the bestest”.

She didn’t seem to understand what you truly meant, but she simply smiled and you almost felt pity for the horrible way you had treater her.

She obviously wanted to be there as much as you did, and you couldn’t put much blame on her, although she certainly wouldn’t have helped you.

“… sorry” you simply mumbled, as she turned to you with a small smile, her voice telling you ‘not to worry about’, purring out the ‘r’s, but her eyes shone of acceptance, and then she told you to wait a bit more.

And then suddenly the sun, seeping through the petals of your new home, became more orange, hitting low the petal that opened almost on his own and then lowered itself on the ground on some kind of slide

‘This isn’t even the weirdest thing I have seen today’ you thought as Niahm moved to you.

“Would you prefer that I go first, my lady?” she probably noticed your uneasiness, since you had never been one to do this kind of things “… it is safe as life, as you humans say”.

“That isn’t reassuring” you commented, but insisted that she went first, seeing her disappear quickly over the silky slide of the pinkish petal, onto which you moved, in your pinkish dress, a shade clearer that your skin right now.

You didn’t even have to push yourself, you moved down calmly, although the fastness of it made you ditzy and you weren’t comfortable till you were again on the ground, seeing that everyone you had seen last night was now looking at you, and at your disheveled state.

And you were glad to have Niahm come and collect you, almost as a doll in embellished clothes and thick blush over its cheeks, meanwhile Aethelred, you recognized him by the elegant clothes and the piercingly blue eyes, whispered something to a creature that looked like the elves you had read about when you were younger.

Slender and so light that she blinded you.

They spoke with an intimacy that showed that your soon-to-be-husband had much more experience than you thought in womanly business.

You wouldn’t have for sure stayed around enough to see if that was true or not.

Alfred came onto you, once Niahm was done with your set-up, guiding you through a court of creature that even in your wildest fantasies you wouldn’t have been able to conceive, although you recognized a few, asking yourself whether there were humans, since some seemed almost ‘normal’, but then a twinkle of their eyes would reveal much more.

And you felt a stranger.

A powerless stranger.

“Dear sister!” welcomed you Alfred, and although you weren’t sure to trust him or even like him, you were grateful for his help, since he had been the sole source of information you had met “… let me show you around! We have all been so eager to meet you!”.

And the court did seem eager.

But in a wicked away.

As if they expected nothing more than some kind of mistake from you.

One that would have sent you away from them, since they all looked positively plotting and you could only guess what they were thinking of you, although your shade of skin wasn’t human-like, but the way you moved… was clumsy.

Horridly clumsy, if confronted with theirs.

Alfred named ladies after lords as he guided you through them, and soon you were in front of two thrones, both pushed upward to distance them from the crowd below, as if they were stronger and you could only guess this meant they were the royal-est of the royals.

One seat, still, was left empty beside them, halfway through earth and sky.

But soon you had a bigger surprise waiting for you, as Alfred informed you that the older man and the younger woman sitting on the thrones were his relatives, making him the prince of the faeries.

Exactly like his brother.

The one you’d have to marry.

As if your situation hadn’t been already bad.

“My grandfather Ecberth, he is the one who organized your wedding” and he bowed lightly his head, making you a small sign to do the same, as the annoyed old man turned his attention on you suddenly.

The whispers all around you being immediately silenced.

And you felt judged.

“… lady (Y/N)” it was the woman who spoke, and had you been intimidated by the older man, the woman’s voice spoke of pure poison, something that made you extremely uneasy “… we are blessed to see your face and not hear your horrendous screams, this time”.

You honestly thought of a few comebacks but held back your tongue.

For now, you had to play the docile card.

You couldn’t make them worry when you were in their territory, if not for your own personal safety, to make your escape easier.

“… and this is my mother, queen Judith” exhaled softly Alfred and you had to push your eyes back onto your feet, because surprise shone in them.

Alfred hadn’t seriously inherited a single drop of that poisonous woman.

And now you did understand why Aethelred didn’t like her.

“… Judith!” reprimanded her quickly Ecberth, although something similar to amusement shone in his eyes as he said that name, before turning his full attention on you, something that made you almost feel like an ant being looked up by an enormous human foot “… excuse my lovely daughter-in-law, she knows nothing of our hospitality”.

“I am grateful for your hospitality” you spoke lowly, trying to keep your sarcasm contained, although you heard Aethelred laugh at your clumsy response, his snicker catching also Ecberth’s eye, who smirked back, but with harshness in the twinkle of his eye.

“… my eldest grandchild seems to have taken after his mother” and his eyes became harsh and heavy, and you almost felt bad for the public humiliation that befell on Aethelred “…do come forward, my foul boy”.

And Aethelred almost pushed by the same enchantment that had brought you in the woods, moved himself forward and marched with a harsh expression to you, till he was by your side.

“… isn’t your wife lovely?” he asked him, a tone of mockery in his words and soon purple coated Aethelred’s cheeks in a show of embarrassment that made you almost think that this wasn’t simply an advantageous wedding, although they had told you so.

This was a punishment for him.

“I don’t have to find my wife lovely” Aethelred shot back, hissing roughly through his teeth “… I just have to find her a liar”.

Again, that accent on your lying abilities.

What did it mean?

These people could enchant others, they could fly on their own wings and sprout fire, but they were suddenly interested in a girl that could lie.

“And can she lie?” the fact that he spoke like you weren’t there got on your nerve.

But you clutched your fists harder, raising your head immediately with a smile.

“I am very pleased to have this marriage with the lovely Aethelred” each word sounded fake, but the lie smeared itself on your mouth, making the man look at you as if you were some kind of strange animal.

One that pleased him greatly.

But could bite.

“… oh Gosh isn’t it marvelous?” he commented, laughing loudly as the entire court mirrored him as if they were one with him “… a blessing upon our house”.

Everybody agreed, even the scorned queen, although her eyes marveled with something that seemed almost envy, you held your head tighter, taking in your small victory, but it didn’t last much, because soon king Ecberth looked at you again and ordered to move onto the royal dinner.

‘… we’ll get something in our stomach and then raise our cups to the promise”.

And that would have made everything painfully real.

No matter the fact that you didn’t understand what this promise fully entailed, but the thought of food might have been helpful, since you honestly just started feeling the pain in your stomach due to the hunger.

Although you weren’t sure you should have eaten everything.

You had read too much Christina Rossetti to trust any fairy food.

And in a blink of an eye, tables appeared, almost blooming from the ground, and solely now you realized you weren’t in some magical land, but you were beneath the grass, as small as an ant, enough for to inhabit the small flower you had woken up into.

You wondered how the hell had it happened, even more when your captors had been your same height the previous night.

Had you become too small?

Or had the world grown too big around you?

They didn’t call them ‘Little People’ for anything, after all.

You almost shrieked as one chair came right behind your huge dress, the layers of fabric shielding you from unwanted attention, but you couldn’t hide your embarrassment at that sudden apparition, unused to such ordinary magic, as Alfred giggled innocently, meanwhile Aethelred smirked dangerously, but still sat next to you.

The food made you nervous so you simply played around with it, wondering whether you should have tasted the purplish substance in your glass, since your throat was suddenly aching for water, but you didn’t want to die or either worse be enchanted and driven mad.

You might have had their blood, but you weren’t used to their magic and their tricks.

“… it is safe to eat” commented Aethelred as he saw your hesitation “… people will be annoyed if they find out that I intend to starve my bride”.

“Will this make me dance like crazy around the table?” you muttered holding out the purplish liquid in the elegant glass.

“No” and he noticed that you didn’t look in the slightest convinced “… I can’t lie”.

“Is it true?” you retorted, but slightly dipped your lips in the liquid, your throat begging for a bit of relief.

“… I lo…” and his mouth pushed itself in various shapes till he renounced saying whatever he wanted and instead muttered darkly “… I hate all of this”.

“Don’t even start” you shot back, as you then moved to dip your mouth further in the glass, discovering that what you had thought was an horridly powerful potion turned out to be simple grape juice, not even alcoholic “… you weren’t kidnapped for this”.

“You know why my grandfather agreed to this?” he commented loudly, as if you were seriously interested in his own problems, not having already enough of your own “… because although you might be so special for your lying abilities, you are nothing more than a human girl”.

“My skin color would suggest otherwise” you muttered, showing off a naked arm, since your arms were exposed, through light sleets “… what the hell do I have to do to turn back to my original complexion?”.

“… get away from here” it was almost a suggestion “… changeling show their true nature only in Fae reigns. Run away and you’ll be a simple human again”.

“Oh, believe me, I’d love to do just that” a sugary sweet smile appeared on your face, matched by Aethelred, showing you that although he might not lie, he was completely able to fake “… just let me know which one is the emergency exit door and I’ll be far swiftly out of your hair”.

“You have such a way with words” he spoke loudly, a bright laugh escaping from his mouth, as he raised his cup towards his mother and grandfather “… keep your tongue tame or you won’t survive in here”.

“I have every intention of not even living in here” you replied, although the threat had gotten the hair on your skin to raise, as the goosebumps went all over your body, and you weren’t sure if it was for the veiled threat or the way Aethelred was so close to you.

He was as handsome as an amazing statue, a strong facial structure and a tight smile, and eyes that shone of much more interest than he led on.

“… what is this ‘promise’ thing? Seriously” you muttered, your voice a bit lower than it should have been, but Aethelred spared you any harsh remark, instead choosing to focus onto your question, although his eyes shifted onto what had been left in his plate.

He had eaten voraciously, almost as if he expected everything to be brought away from him.

“It is the first bonding ritual to link two faeries together” he explained with a dark and ancient voice, definitely tired “… we don’t swear upon chastity or faith since it is quite common to have lovers and such, in Fae realms…”.

“… that is reassuring” you commented darkly, unsure of why you’d be jealous of Aethelred, when the sole thought of sharing a bed with him, as handsome as he might be. put you at unease.

“… I am a prince” he replied, as if that was a justification enough “… sex is simply a mean to gain power, and you should know it as well”.

“That’s what men always say and then stone women as whores”.

Aethelred seemed surprised at your affirmation and something of almost reflective shone in his face.

“We wouldn’t stone you for cheating on me” he said, and then his voice had a tougher intonation, returning to the silk-veiled threats he had been launching at you since the start of it all “… we would kill you for betraying our family”.

“… that surely reassure me”.

“The promise will prove that and ensure it” he continued on explaining “… we swear of being loyal to our families, joining us under one, in order for us to forge an alliance that will never be broken if not in Death”.

“That shit seems serious” you muttered, as you also started eating the meal in your plate, knowing that if you truly wanted to escape, you’d have to be strong.

“… it is” he confirmed “… but the promise is the least show-like of our ceremonies, then there is ‘The Dressing’, ‘The Ceremony’, ‘The Undressing’…”.

“They all explain pretty well what they entail” you commented loudly, embarrassment written all over your cheeks in a show of uneasiness that made you a weak target for Aethelred’s laugh, although he kept the conversation between you two, as he promised.

“I’ll be gentle with you, little virgin”.

Your cheeks became even redder, and you dropped half the glass onto his expensive pants for revealing your embarrassing secret, as he smirked almost playfully.

He was like a big feline waiting for his prey to lower her guard.

The stain didn’t last even a sole minute on the pants, before it vanished in thin air.

“… don’t worry, I’ll wait” he grinned at you, before he leaned in, and you found yourself stuck on the chair “… there is no intention in me to take a fruit that isn’t offered, but either way I always seem to wait for the more mature ones, falling right in my hands”.

You were too hot.

And you almost thought about drenching yourself with grape juice, to relieve that.

But Aethelred quickly moved away from him, his entire playful attire disappearing as his eyes focused on the sight of Judith hand-feeding Alfred, although he shouldn’t have the need of it, but you didn’t miss Aethelred’s longing gaze, desperate for affection.

“… my mother, too, didn’t like me” you didn’t know why you blurted it out, but it just did.

“Mothers can feel when their children isn’t theirs, so I don’t blame her” he commented, and you were surprised he hadn’t said anything truly cruel “… my situation is worse, believe me. My mother hates me for the sake of my brother’s love”.

It was an heartfelt confession and you wondered whether you should have said something but you just stared at him, unable to stop yourself from doing literally anything, as your hand held out for his, but he just shifted it away, facing forward.

And although you had no intention or interest in comforting your captors, not wanting to develop Stockholm Syndrome, you couldn’t help but feel bitter at his rejection and when you were turning around to collect yourself in a private moment, you saw something, a thick creature, dark green and horridly scaly, almost like a snake.

But before you could scream more wretched creatures appeared, and from the scream that erupted, you knew that they weren’t invited.

Aethelred was quick, noticing the creature near you, as he pushed you back, almost getting you to bump into the ground and he exited the sword and pushed it right into the creature’s chest, horridly killing him as some kind of acidic blood was emitted by the horrifying nightmare, and you shielded yourself with the fabric of your dress.

“… grab my knife, soon-to-be wife” he commented loudly, as another creature screeched appearing onto the table with a warrior scream that made you immediately cover your ears, as Aethelred shook you to your feet “… the knife! Idiotic human girl!”.

And you did grab the knife he had stitched onto his thigh, getting it out of his sheath, as he sent you a little look to where a running mob was forming, before the creatures completely circled you, leaving you no escape.

“… run forward and never stop” he explained to you, as he easily fought off another attack and you shamelessly used him as a human shield “… there’ll be an arch… it’ll make you human again just by stepping over it”.

That was your way out, although chaos erupted around you and you screeched loudly making you heavy, but you nodded at what Aethelred had said and quickly moved towards where he had pointed, trampling over a furious crowd, as guards appeared shielding the royals, Alfred disappearing under the tight arm of an armed man.

And you ducked down, sure that nobody would notice you.

But hands came for you, both scaly and both faerie, and the knife in your hold moved on its own, pushing itself through flesh and coming out marred in blood, although you never wanted to hurt anyone.

But had you stopped they would have hurt you.

You tried not to do too much damage, simply stabbing at the hands, hoping that whatever happened they’d have some kind of healing magic you had never known, and just pushed forward, eventually leaving behind the small war, and for a bit you thought it was a trap.

Some kind of dangerous ploy to prove your loyalty.

No arch was in sight.

And you were losing hope, thinking that maybe it was all a game.

A game of chase that would have belonged to those savage people, but then your eyes caught a beautiful sight: an arch, right in front of your eyes.

And you were just moving to pass it, when something blunt hit the back of your head and you went down again, cursing yourself for having thought this would have ended up well.

You were getting annoyed at waking up like this.

Not in your room and with a burning headache.

This time you knew from the start that you hadn’t woken up for sure in your childhood home, since everywhere around you was cold and wet, almost as if you were being held under earth and when you opened your eyes, you saw that you hadn’t been wrong.

Around you everything was brown, barely lighted up by the dying flame of a candle.

You couldn’t help but feel buried inside a good amount of mud, all around you in a strange structure that was reinforced with metals and rocks, such as the things that blocked you from moving out.

No soft petals, but metal bars.

You were in prison.

Had they imprisoned you for having run away?

But at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel like you had shifted away completely by the cheery light of the faerie world and you were now closed off in mud and something that smelled much worse.

You moved closer to the small candle, as you cradled it closer to you, moving towards the bars to look outside to try to understand what was going on as you realized that your color of your skin hadn’t gone back to normal, showing you that you hadn’t passed the arc.

That you were still in faerieland.

Or whatever they called it.

But you weren’t anymore in any royal court, something that you dreaded to admit but you almost missed.

Even more when you noticed what was outside for you.

Or better in the bars in front of you.

Frightened creatures that you identified as similar faeries, backed up and scared, a few of them wounded and you couldn’t help but think that although the faeries seemed true savages, they wouldn’t have done this to their same people.

Had it been the creatures that had attacked you at the royal banquet?

But soon your thoughts were answered, as you heard heavy steps starting to sound, as the creatures shrieked away from the bars and towards the darkness of their cells and your heart started speeding up, as you finally realized that you were in deep shit.

You definitely missed your small private flower chamber.

But it wasn’t the creatures you had seen at the wedding that came face to face with you, although they resembled them in the color of their skin, a deep unhealthy yellowish green.

And it didn’t take you much to understand they were goblins.

Although they were quite more handsome than you thought.

But they had an almost aggressive beauty to them, something that made you uneasy as they inched closer to your bars, snickers coming from them, as they noticed your surprised face, and you took in how many they truly were.

Four men, all with long hair, braided elegantly, almost in warrior-like fashion, but two were bigger, although at least four of them were relatives for sure, meanwhile one stood out with his tattooed face and hair falling onto his face.

But they all shared their hungry smiles, and you almost crawled back in the back of the cell when they walked in the bar, opening it up to you.

“… don’t you smell the lovely perfume of a scared faerie?” commented the smaller one, his tongue wetting his lips, in a suggestive way that made you tremble “… they always taste sweeter when they cry”.

“Hvitserk!” called him back who looked like his brother, an elegant braid of brownish blond hair and pure blue eyes “… you aren’t allowed to touch her, don’t you remember?”.

… oh, that certainly put your mind at ease.

“… yeah yeah, I know… Ivar wants her alive” commented harshly the man backing up from you, as instead the tattooed man walked forward you, grabbing harshly your arm to push you to move alongside him, meanwhile the only man that had been silent, the older of the brothers, also blonde hair and damned blue eyes, looked at you.

You kept your back straight and pushed yourself to stand taller towards him, because showing that you feared them made you uneasy.

And it would have just brought you deeper.

You might play the compliant princess.

But you wouldn’t have played the scared one.

From what you had heard you weren’t to be touched, hence you were safe.

For now.

Although Hvitserk, or whatever that troll was called, kept his eyes for the entire time on your ass.

You tried to take in the road for where you were lead, up to a pair of stairs, although you couldn’t see any windows in sight, probably because if you remembered correctly the light of the sun turned goblins into stone.

But still you weren’t able to catch the passing of time, whether you had moved away from the bloody tint of the dawn you had experienced or if it was already the rosy-fingered dawn, coming for you.

The walls still became much more sturdy and stable, made of rocks than instead mud, almost as if you were slowly walking towards the true castle, meanwhile the prisoners were simply returned to the earth where they had all come from.

You hadn’t been wrong at thinking that you had been buried alive.

And then you walked in what looked like a dark hall, straight from your darkest fairytales, with black rocks everywhere and barely a fireplace shining through the darkness of the room, as you took in the elegant and cruel assemble.

And the man who sat on a chair in the middle of it.

He looked young, probably a few years younger than you, the color of the fire making his face shine with a more normal color, almost human.

But you were sure he was a goblin.

Hadn’t it been for his horrifying teeth, sharp and pushed forward, you would have thought he might have been quite the handsome lad.

But villains always looked wonderful in fairytales.

And from what you had seen and heard, he was one of them.

“… lady (Y/N)” he welcomed you, raising himself up, although you noticed that he was in a croaked position, making you wonder whether he had been wounded or was simply tired.

Or wanted to mock you.

“… welcome in my humble home” he commented with a devious light in his eyes, again predator taunting his prey and you honestly couldn’t help but hate that behavior, rolling lightly your eyes as you were laid onto a chair that was propped in front of him “… I take it that your staying was well”.

“My hair got a bit dirtied due to the humidity” you commented, taking on the persona of the spoiled brat “… if I get split ends, I’ll forward you my hairdresser’s bill”.

You knew that you were toeing a thin line, but the beautiful goblin simply looked at you with a smirk, as his eyes shone of interest, probably not expecting of you reacting that way.

But he didn’t let it impress him.

“… we’ll pay, goblins certainly don’t miss riches” he said, as he then moved to turn around, showing you that on the wall in the barely-lighted up a trophy shown: a golden armor, encrusted with gems all over it, definitely expensive “… my uncle Floki, made it for me”.

“… seems heavy” you commented unimpressed.

And this time his eyes showed that he had taken offense at your comment.

Good.

“You aren’t one for pretty words, are you?” he questioned you, and you felt the aggressiveness that told you this wasn’t a curtesy call.

“I might look like a cupcake in this dress, but believe me, I am not” you shot back, and although he seemed quite confused by what you said, he seemed to get the gist of the discourse, for which you were thankful.

Since it meant he might have stopped treating you like an idiot.

“… I am Ivar, the king of goblins”.

Again, you were unimpressed, pushing your face to rest itself.

“… and I am (Y/N), princess of being kidnapped, it seems”.

“This is serious” he commented, and you felt the surprised being met with annoyance, something that got you to assume a more serious expression, as you straightened your position “… and it’ll be advantageous to both of us, if you accept my deal”.

“… will you allow me to go outside to poo? Because believe me… the faeries also offered me that”.

“I can offer you your freedom”.

And that got you to finally shut up.

And stop with the sass.

Because Ivar’s eyes seemed honest.

So, it was impossible.

“… I don’t believe you”.

“I belong to the Little People, I can’t lie” but something told you that he would run around the truth, and hence you couldn’t believe him and wouldn’t have.

Till you had proofs.

“Why would you offer me freedom?” you asked, knowing that this wouldn’t be free “…what do you want for yourself?”.

“A spy” that left you surprised truly “… not many faeries can be good spies, but somebody like you, linked to the royal family and able to lie at command, might come quite handy to me… and all you’d have to do is to be my little bird, chirping information on my shoulders”.

Which wasn’t what you wanted in the slightest.

“… if I accept… how will you give me my freedom?” you asked, as your eyes danced around the room, not wanting to let him see how much you were considering his proposal.

Some part of you told you that goblins had their own agenda and you would have been caught in something in between and any way to escape would have been ruined.

But still… you didn’t see many ways to escape this prison.

Goblins weren’t certainly as gentle as faerie, and certainly although Ivar had ordered not to touch you, it certainly wouldn’t have lasted much.

So, you should have accepted, but…

… but you just wanted a normal life.

“… easily, I’ll turn you back in the human you always believed yourself to be” it seemed easy said by his mouth and although you knew that he couldn’t lie, for a minute you felt like this had a second meaning and you should be careful for that.

Everytime the villain offered the easy solution out, it meant that the main characters had sold their soul out.

“… you make it seem easy, but I don’t trust easy things” you commented, as you readjusted on the chair, lightly focusing your attention on the dress, noticing how utterly tattered it look, completely ruined.

It represented perfectly how you felt inside.

“It isn’t an easy thing, but… it is possible” he replied “… many of our species ditch our skin to enchant elegant wives, a few of my brothers can confirm it”.

A choir of snickers made you aware that it was indeed true.

“… it’s an enchantment” he explained “… it’ll make you human again”.

“How?”.

“I am not telling you till you decide whether you accept my deal or not” his mouth turned in a devious smirk.

“You might trick me”.

“… I could force you into this” he commented loudly, and suddenly you were aware that although he hadn’t shown you that he was powerful, he was much stronger than he let on “… I could have you spying for me with worse methods”.

And he meant it from the bloodthirsty expression which appeared on his face.

“But I am feeling generous, and I know that satisfied employees are the best ones” he reached out to you, as he lightly staggered down from the throne, making you notice that he wore braces, metal braces onto his body, although you assumed they couldn’t be iron, but he looked quite strong, holding his body straight.

But your eyes shifted as he moved his hand forward to you and his hand lightly moved itself in your hair, before settling on your face and strangely his touch seemed ice-cold and wet, but it didn’t startle as his eyes shifted onto you.

“… will you be my spy, little one?”.

---

Aethelred Taglist:

@flowers-in-your-hayr

#Ivar #Ivar The Boneless #Ivar Reader #Ivar x Reader #Ivar Imagine #Ivar Fic #Aethelred #Aethelred Reader #Aethelred x Reader #Aethelred Imagine #Aethelred Fic #history vikings #vikings imagine #vikings

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years

Text

West African Hybrids

“Hey… Hey! Wake up, we’re almost there.”

Ru’Yi felt a slight nudge at her side and opened her eyes. Her uniform was slightly rumpled. She managed to tie up her hair so it wouldn’t be too frizzy on landing. “Really?” She whimpered in a sleepy disappointment. “That was so fast…”

“Well, the executive department doesn’t like to waste time. So the gear department modifies planes for maximum speed.” Rodney gave her a shy smile, revealing a single dimple on his right cheek. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

She shook her head. “I’m alright.”

It was still too dark to see much but, as people began to turn on their overhead lights, she noticed that his eyes were hazel, brown with flecks of green and gold mixed in, hidden behind his dark brown bangs. Everything from his hair cut, to his quiet voice, and hesitant demeanor spoke to his shyness, but now that she got a good look at him, she could tell that he was at least as strong as Brian. He had those same broad shoulders and muscles along his arms. He was also relatively tall, stretching his legs under the seat in front of him.

Around her all the students were always wide awake, shifting and speaking to their seatmates.

Ru’Yi only remembered flying once before. Back when she was fourteen when they were on the island, she had been so excited to take her first flight and she packed all her things early. She even watched videos of 757, 747 and 777 airliners to see how things would be. These massive jets with smiling Flight attendants, a friendly captain speaking over an intercom, and movies built into the seats.

But instead of a large bustling airport, her father and mother took a boat to another island where a sandy flat ribbon of land served as a runway. There were no customs, no shopping, nothing like that. Just a long silver luxury private jet in the middle of nowhere.

“Why can’t we just be normal?” She had lamented.

Her father answered her question in his usual succinct manner. The nearest airport was nearly a day’s travel away and she would never be able to use it anyway because she didn’t have a passport. He looked at her with a head slightly tilted, like a curious bird wondering what was wrong. The juxtaposition of his serious-eyed stare, his questioning gesture and his shirt with the bright yellow hibiscus flowers would have been funny but she wasn’t laughing.

This was better anyway, her mother had chimed in. They had the whole plane to themselves. There was an onboard chef ready to fix anything they possibly would want to eat, music, movies, games, and a good pilot that her father knew. She also was dressed in a yellow sundress to match her husband’s and together, they looked like the happy globetrotting couple.

Ru’Yi had relented, but didn’t smile. Deep down, he knew all the kids at school would envy her. They would question how some tour guide could afford a private flight to the United States.

She should be grateful.

Now sitting in the Beluga Aircraft, she realized that this was as close to normal as she could get. At least now, she was surrounded by other people who also didn’t seem to use passports, use airports or pass through customs. They were flying a jet with a jet tucked inside it like a Russian nesting doll and still managed to go faster than the planes she’d looked at as a child. She started to wonder if normalcy was as much as a fantasy to her as dragons were to ordinary people.

Aircraft Carrier, Aido-Hwedo, West Africa Branch.

The calm Atlantic waters broke beneath the unstoppable gun-metal bow of the moving wall of metal that towered a thousand feet high. It was topped with what appeared to be a flat road surface, as though a piece of highway had broken off a steel cliffside and set sail. On the side of this cliff was a name in large white block text a dozen feet high: Aido-Hwedo.

The original name of the vessel was the USS-Enterprise. This aircraft carrier was the one near enough to Pearl Harbor to participate in the famous World War II battle. It had scrambled several of its jets to help, but in the confusion of the sudden attack, many of them were shot down by their own countrymen. Later it saw intense battles of the South Pacific and then other missions during peacetime. But, for all its storied history, it still ended up at the shipyard to be turned into scrap at the end of its life.

According to history, it was scrap. Supposedly, all that was left of the ship was its bell, an anchor and the name plaque. Indeed, the name plaque was removed, but the ship itself moved about on the seas like a ghost of decades past, fighting battles under its new name.

The Aido-Hwedo was the great rainbow serpent that both created the world and sustained Earth’s form from falling to chaos -- A great beast that ate iron and, lacking iron, would instead eat its own tail.

Ordinarily, this floating runway would have been decorated with fighter jets, but for this occasion the landing surface was cleared to accommodate its incoming oversized cargo.

Within the control tower a tall man with skin the color of black coffee watched through his binoculars while a woman sat watching the radar screen. He was dressed in a black naval uniform, decorated with gold tassels. He was still, silent, and tense as he prepared to watch the plane land.

Landing on a flight deck is one of the most difficult things a pilot will ever do. The flight deck only had about 500 feet of runway space for landing planes, which wasn’t nearly enough for the heavy, high-speed jets like the modified Beluga coming in. To land on the flight deck, it would need a tailhook, which was exactly what it sounded like — an extended hook attached to the plane’s tail. The pilot’s goal would be to snag the tailhook on one of four arresting wires, sturdy cables woven from high-tensile steel wire. It would be precision flying at low speed and a high angle of attack. It was the definitive skill that tested Navy carrier pilots. The principle on landing would be to fly the plane aboard the ship at the slowest speed at which it can be done safely, to deliberately stall and drop into the landing.

Despite his confidence in the pilot, Foli Abalo looked through his binoculars with anticipation of a close call. The wire system was checked, rechecked and placed under guard. A back up emergency wire system was installed in case it failed anyway.

“Approach speed 450. Tail hook lowered.” The woman murmured.

The lights of the plane were suddenly visible as it made its approaching turn. It moved incredibly slowly, stalking the ship like a massive fat shark.

“Speed reduced 350…”

It was the moment of truth. By now, the plane was so low and flying so slow, it had two options, land perfectly on the aircraft carrier or land on the ocean. There would be no recovering from this descent.

“On final approach. Flaps full. Speed 300.”

The roar of the engines was now audible in the tower. It rattled the glass. This plane would take up every inch of the runway and its wings would span the full width of the ship. Compared to the plane, this aircraft carrier seemed more like a sheet of notebook paper.

“Landing in five… four, three, two…”

The plane suddenly dwarfed the runway. The weight of it rocked the carrier. A pair of reverse thrusters built into the engines ignited in front of it. The brake lines caught the tailhooks and screamed under the strain. The plane passed the tower, rumbled further and further to the edge and then stopped completely, its nose peeking over the water.

A smattering of applause echoed throughout the tower. “We did it! We did it! That was the hard part wasn’t it? Get the crew down, have medics on board just in case the force of the stop caused any injuries.”

While the crew scattered, Foli smiled, his teeth a brilliant white, his black eyes twinkling. “Grant… it’s been far too long. How have you been doing my friend? Will you still recognize me? I wonder.” He chuckled.

Foli was one of a set of quadruplets. His mother had two eggs fertilized that day and by luck, both of them divided into two sets of twins. They were all born on the same day and seemed to have the same spirit in them so it was impossible to tell them apart as babies even for the most experienced spiritualist. Normally, the children would be named after the day of the week until they were given their permanent names. As it turned out, they were given the names of their birth order and that was that.

The name Foli meant first son, Atsu meant the younger of twins, Do was the first child after twins, and Dofi the second child after twins. His three brothers were also on this ship, scattered throughout the crew. Those onboard had no trouble telling them apart thanks to the uniform system of the West Africa branch. The gold crown on his hat meant he was the First Officer. But without his hat, it was very difficult to tell for those who didn’t know them well, and it wasn’t uncommon for his brothers to disguise themselves as pranks. He wouldn’t meet his friend today. His youngest brother, Dofi, would meet him instead.

He walked out of the tower where his brother was waiting and passed his his hat. Looking at them was like looking at a reflection. The same curled hair, cut short in the same buzzed syle, the same smile, and broad nose.

It was Dofi’s idea to play the prank. He was always the jokester and the one who initiated play on the ship. Atsu, the Chief Engineer was up to his ears after making the modifications to the ship for this mission. And Do had to stay on watch, keeping a careful eye on the stirring atmosphere just a few hundred miles distant. Although they were all the same age, Foli was expected to be the responsible representative and more was required of him as the oldest brother, even if he was only the oldest by a few minutes. So he wasn’t allowed to be seen playing, drinking or smoking.

Dofi screwed the hat on his head. “I’ll say I stole it.” He said, turning on his heel with a wink and then, pulling his face into a stoic frown, marched straight towards the bridge. When the other crew saw him they quickly pulled up in a sharp salute, thinking he was the captain.

The West Africa Branch had managed to remain under the radar for much of history. Africa had few mountains to guarantee a sufficient amount of steady rains. So great buildings and permanent settlements were mostly confined to the coasts and river valleys. The rest of Africa was forced to follow the shifting weather. The most valuable items one had had to be portable. So the hybrids of Africa were always mobile and moving. They kept their secrets with them in oral traditions, and carried their alchemical knowledge in the form of clothing, necklaces and even scars and tattoos. When the tidal wave of destructive colonization smashed to ruins the cultures of millions and the cutting knife of modern country borders separated allies and grouped them with enemies, and the explosion of civil war blew countries into eternal cycles of poverty, the hybrid life of West Africa was like a serpent, sliding under it all, with a secret network of transportation, communication and trade.

Anjou landed on the shores searching for such treasures. They were aware of him immediately and shied away. After all, those Europeans were nothing but looters and could not be trusted. They offered him fakes in hopes of luring him off their land. He saw through their counterfeits, but showed a surprising amount of restraint and tolerance for their hesitance. After a few years of negotiations, they finally trusted him enough to grant him a single piece of exquisite art that contained the alchemical formula for a special kind of dragonslaying metal. In return, he agreed to keep them secret for seven years.

Those seven years passed and the promise was kept and the relationship grew a bit more open. They began to send their young men and women to the college. Foli attended along with Grant. Sadly, the death of Anjou was an uncertain time for the College. They didn’t know this “Lu Mingfei” or this “Von Frings”. But Foli knew Grant Baldwin and he couldn’t refuse a request for help from a friend. Grant said he needed people who could keep secrets and no one kept secrets like the West African Hybrids.

The crew that would welcome them rolled the tall stairway up to the plane’s door and arranged themselves in a long row spanning its length, hands folded behind their backs, looking like a row of sharply dressed dominoes.

The door finally opened and Grant exited first. He looked out over them and stepped easily down towards the ‘Captain’ who gazed at him with a serious air. For a moment, the two stared at each other not saying anything.

From his perch in the tower, Foli could hear what was being said through the wire Dofi wore. He grinned as he heard his brother say, “Welcome to my ship, Director.”

Grant’s voice, at its most deadpan and dry tone said, “Since when did Foli grow a mole on his cheek? Where is he? Which brother are you?”

Within the tower, Foli tilted his head back and howled with laughter, his joy at his brother’s prank failing was intensified by the fact that his friend still remembered him after all his time. “Which brother are you? Hahaha…” He leaned forward and clicked the PA system and his voice boomed over the speakers attached to the tower. “Good morning, Mr. Baldwin! Long time no see! Hahaha!”

“Was this a test?”

“Yes! And you half passed. For the second half, you will have to find out for yourself which brother is he!”

The rest of the line of crew also grinned but kept their laughter in check as Dofi gave a bow with an elegant leg. “We’ll show your students a good time. They need rest while we prepare the mission.”

The students piled off the plane in a rush, eagerly waving and looking around. Foli watched carefully, making a checklist in his mind of each face. He’d gotten the roster from Baldwin of those approved for the mission, so when he saw a woman get off he straightened with surprise.

He didn’t remember any women being on the roster. She seemed young, her skin was only the color of a latte, but her hair was long, coiled and beautiful. She carefully stepped down to the ground and took her place in line to wait for her luggage.

He turned off the PA. It seemed that Grant had his own surprises. “Ensign… who is the girl?”

The woman at the radar shook her head. She’s not on the roster. There’s no female name on the manifest.

He rubbed his chin. He knew he should trust Mr. Baldwin, but he also knew that he only had so much authority. The School Board would easily overrule him.

“Find out what you can about her.” He turned. “I will make my way down to the deck.”

#dragon raja #fanfic #Class of 2032

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