#liam moon: wardrobe.

[manizerold]

liam moon, 34-38, bisexual/biromantic, street racer.

siwon park, 30-33, homosexual/homoromantic, tech company founder/president/ceo.

[prerodinu]

Liam Petrov Wardrobe 

Liam has a unique sense of style seeing as though he doesn’t really give a flying fuck. Leather jackets, studs and cut off vests and flannels make up most of his wardrobe. However he tends to not wear a shirt when he can and really show off all of his tattoos. He doesn’t care and wears whatever he wants. 

[hyper-lynx]

Blue Moon Ball: Outfitting

“So what the hell, a ball? A formal ball?” Hemi looked over at Liam, ears ascanse. Liam’s long, clouded tail swished playfully behind him. 

“Yep~! That’s what the letter said. The Blue Moon Ball. Two weeks from now on the Wizard Island, planar registry WIS-α-1.”

The lynx groaned and stretched as he stood from his well-cushioned seat. His upper body was wholly unclothed -- indeed, only a pair of trusty cargo shorts girded his tan fur. The tufted tips of his ears tingled a little as the energy current beside this reality shifted slightly. He approached and snatched the letter from Liam’s grasp.

“To Queer Wizard Council MEMBER and Hyper-Lynx, Hemi. Hello Magical Friend~☆…” And the invitation continued. An open bar, festivities, and a formal dress code, all described in impeccable hand-written cursive.

“I see…” Hemi muttered. He regarded Liam, his closest friend -- adorned in his typical flowing skirt and well-fitted vest, tail meandering through the cool air behind him, and wondered for just a moment if he should ask the clouded leopard to take his place. Then, the pride flag mounted on the cavern wall caught his eye, and he remembered his obligations.

“What’s the matter?” Liam asked, ears lowering just slightly. “This should be a lot of fun!”

“I’ve never… been to a big formal party like this, so I… don’t really know how any of it works. I’ve also only been to Wizard Island Island for business before, it’s not really… like, I don’t know my way around there at all.”

Liam chuckled. “You’re not one to turn down an adventure, so I don’t buy that that’s the problem.”

“...There’s also the matter of the dress code.”

“Hm! I figured that was the issue. “ Liam began to pace through the workshop. Pieces of unfinished arcane devices littered the counters, glass containers housed samples from distant realities, and a few piles of boxes were still, after months, residing at the sides of the closed cavern chamber. He stopped in front of the makeshift wardrobe -- just a wooden frame around a bar with various shorts hanging, completely in the shadow of a large mechanical air purifier. “I know your outfit choices are usually pretty… spartan, but this is a big event! Dozens or more wizards will be there, and everyone will have put a lot of effort into their outfit. I don’t think just finding your least dirty pair of pants will help you here.”

“I-- hesitate to ask this, but, what alternative do you have in mind? I’m not likely to fit any of your clothes either…” It was true-- Liam was almost a full head taller than Hemi, so sharing clothes was out of the question.

“Well, then we’ll just have to go clothes shopping for you!”

“...Can’t I just, find a good cheesy wizard hat or something? Cut some ear holes, call it a day?”

Liam’s face darkened. “Well, you could do that. For a ball of wizards, you might not even stand out. But, aren’t you a member of the Queer Wizard Council? Specifically one of the ambassadors of the gay identity?”

“Oh, you’re not about to--”

“I am! Friend, there are Expectations on you, justified or not. I won’t condone you showing up with absolutely no effort in your outfit. It doesn’t have to be like what I wear, I just want you to make a good impression! These wizards are powerful allies -- don’t you want to get to know them?”

Hemi sighed and flopped back down onto the chair he was still next to. “...Fine. We’ll go clothes shopping. But you’re doing the astrogation.”

“Ehe, I knew you’d see things my way! You won’t regret this!” With that, he practically pounced over to the divining orb and began running the numbers.

Hemi had almost fallen asleep by the time that Liam returned to him with a piece of discarded scroll paper. 

“Here! A full charted course.”

Hemi sat up and looked it over. It was a pretty straight shot through the phantasmal plane to reach… “Terastra… Is this just an excuse to visit your homeworld, Liam?”

“I mean… no! It’s not. It’s almost spring on my continent of origin, so the blooming festivals will be kicking off soon. They’re tied to the new moon, so I figure the motifs should line up. Plus, if we get lucky with the time alignment, the plaza might already be pretty well decorated.”

Hemi hesitated for a moment, but then stood up again. “Alright. Let’s do this. Better to leap then stay in place, right?”

Liam’s grin widened. “That’s the spirit!”

They both stepped onto the pedestal that formed the center of the entire chamber -- the place set aside for traversal work. The tips of Hemi’s ears sparked and shone with indigo and lavender, bringing a strange vertigo over both of them for just a moment. Hemi traced his claw along the lines of the pattern from the paper, then huffed and crouched.

“Three seconds!” He called out. Liam crouched down too.

Hemi bobbed his head a few times, running the final calculations in his head, and then leapt into the air and sliced outward with extended claws. The air tore open, and from the wound a prismatic light burst onto the chamber. Hemi’s momentum carried him through, and a second later Liam lowered his eyes and leapt into the rift as well.

The void between worlds was beautiful, but in a fleeting way-- when one leaves it, the structure is lost as the story of a dream upon waking. So it was that Liam had almost no memory of the traversal itself when he came to his senses on the surface of his home planet. The air was crisp and cool, but the first tinge of spring’s humidity had already snuck into it. The grass around him was damp with morning dew. He found Hemi’s paw reaching down towards him and took it with a groan as he stood unsteadily.

“Feeling alright?” Hemi asked.

“Yes, sorry.”

“Not at all! It was my bad, I took us close to a turbulent zone. That being said… where are we?”

Liam blinked a few times and found that the two of them were, in fact, not in the plaza of any city, but were in the midst of a great pine forest. The untamed ground sloped upwards towards the gathering light of morning.

“Um-- hopefully, we’re just… next to the city?”

“...What precision did you use in the astrogation?”

“Five places?”

Hemi groaned. “We could be miles away…” He started trudging through the short grass towards the local peak. “Come on, maybe there’s a view over this bluff.”

It was a deceptively long distance to the bluff -- by the time they arrived, the sky was already very nearly blue. But, when they finally reached the top, both were wordlessly taken aback.

The cliff they had arrived at was, in fact, the edge of a great ridge that nearly surrounded the landed side of the vibrant city below.  The shadow of the opposing cliffs still cast darkness over the white buildings, but the miniscule impressions of hundreds of people were already milling about in the city center, were the colors of spring had been lavished upon the streets in minuscule strands. Liam’s tail and ears recovered their former, perky status immediately.

“Hmh! Not bad for five decimal places.” Hemi remarked. “I might come back here on purpose some time.”

“I’m still sorry for the trouble. It might take all morning to hike down there.”

“We’ve got two weeks, right? There’s no rush. If you mess up your skirt we’ll be in a good place to get a new one, too.”

“--Right! Okay…”

They sat for a moment to watch the sunrise finish, and then continued on their way. Thankfully, a reasonable series of switchbacks existed to allow the downward voyage to be done without any significant climbing.

“They won’t like-- recognize you here, right?” Hemi asked as they approached the base of the hills. “I know you’ve done some pretty heroic stuff…”

“No, we should be fine on that front. It was a while ago, and I looked different at the time.”

“Damn. Was hoping for some ‘divine messenger’ discounts.”

“Ha!” Liam shook his head. “We should hope they don’t have any ‘divine messenger’ flaming arrows for us. But, again, it should be fine.”

When they finally breached the city walls, both cats were somewhat exhausted, so before they reached the plaza proper, they found a tea-serving restaurant of some kind to relax at. As promised, none of the residents seemed to think the two of them were at all unusual -- the residents and tourists occupied a wide array of distinct species. Mostly canids, it seemed, but felines and the odd cervid could be sighted in the streets.

As Hemi sipped on his (quite good!) cup of green tea, Liam tilted his head, caught by a passing idea. “So, Hemi, there’s one big choice we have to make before finding you clothes.”

“And what’s that?” As Hemi asked, he already had some idea of what this ‘choice’ would be, judging from the mirthful display across Liam’s face.

“Suits or skirts?”

Hemi sighed, but had no immediate response. To tell the truth, he’d been mulling that over the entire hike so far. Suits were, of course, more traditional for masculine-appearing beings, but he was there as a representative of the Queer Wizard Council, so everything would be open to him, but if he looked bad in something, it would be worse than having shown up in just shorts and a hat, and suits and ties all seemed very restrictive compared to what he was used to… it continued spinning around from there. 

“I haven’t chosen.” He answered bluntly.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sure you’d cut a dashing look in either. Since you don’t have a strong preference, we’ll have to try out some of both.”

Hemi squirmed a little in his seat, then tilted his head and let his ears fall back as he noticed Liam’s general expression. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you--?”

“It’s not every day I get to see you, of all people, flustered~”

“I’m not flustered!”

“Yes you are. Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart.”

“Don’t-- call me that… Damn it. Fine, it’s just not a comfortable thing, okay? Is that such a crime? I probably’ll look stupid no matter what I choose anyway so--”

“What? Don’t say that! I wasn’t joking earlier, I really do think you can pull it off!”

Hemi’s ears were low, and his little nub of a tail was moving back and forth through the cutout of the chair. His posture made him appear to be barely half of Liam’s size, and his voice became quiet but firm. “This is an important event, Liam. I’ve never even seen this many other wizards at once before, let alone-- partied with them. What if I end up making a bad impression? All of this is alien to me, literally more so than actual, like, alien life… I’ve literally been more comfortable climbing a volcano or spelunking a thousand miles under the surface of some rock no one has laid eyes upon since creation began.”

“Those things are physically perilous. That’s completely different then this-- social peril-- you’re feeling. I’m sorry for pressuring you… I, uh, think I got a little too excited.“ 

Liam was quiet for a moment. “If, you want to go home, this was still a nice day out. You can even discard the invitation if you want, I’m sure they’ve got plenty of attendees.”

“...No.” Hemi’s back straightened, and he took a deep breath in. “No, I need to do this. I can’t just live underground with you alone forever-- no offense. I need to get out there, get out of my own head and be seen by… anyone else. Anything else, then just me and the one writing all this down.”

“Huh?”

Hemi finished his tea and stood up. “I’m ready.”

Liam’s eyes went wild and he quickly finished the last small amount of his own tea as well. “Then, let’s do this--!”

The plaza burst and flowed with vibrant colors and moving bodies of all descriptions. A sea of horns and ears jostled about open-air stalls with perfumes, floral headdresses, fresh-grilled fish, and, finally, a veritable feast of clothes. Gowns, cocktail dresses, suits, ties… a hundred outfits for a thousand eyes. Above it all, streams of paper-made flowers that jostled in the gentle breeze, like candle fire against the immense blue sky.

Hemi tried on a suit first. As predicted, the feeling of his long body fur being constrained by the fabric was hard to stomach, and this particular suit made his head seem disproportionately too large. He tried another -- similar results, but it was a bit looser. Most of the outfits had some sort of floral design, but a few commemorated the moon as well -- unfortunately, each suit that had appropriate theming seemed to have some issue of comfort or price that disqualified it from consideration. Minutes passed, then tens of minutes. Almost an hour. Over an hour. Even Liam had begun to wear down, and that resolve the lynx had kindled within himself could only maintain itself for so long. The crowds kept throbbing and coursing down the cobblestones all the while.

In the distance, Hemi noticed something different as the attendant (a rather friendly coyote) and Liam were helping button together the latest too-tight suit. It was a cocktail dress (of the over-one-shoulder variety), formed from a deep blue-purple that matched the night sky above his home world on a clear night. Across its chest, it displayed a beautiful full moon, and it had a few frills down the sides that would match his face’s lynx-like cheek fur. It stood against a boutique stand that seemed to have little traction.

“How does it fit?” Liam asked of the suit he was already wearing, though he was able to guess given how much Hemi had squirmed while it was being fastened, when he caught Hemi’s gaze and followed it. “Oh~! Did you find something..?”

An invisible barrier formed around Hemi’s words as he was stricken again with doubt. It would be a bold statement -- one his generally not-that-attractive physique would butcher for sure. Liam took the coyote aside and whispered something in their ears. The coyote looked across the crowd, then back to Hemi, and put their paw under their chin for a moment before nodding. Liam’s smile became a gentle smirk.

“Well, what are you waiting for? You won’t know anything until you try it on.”

The lynx looked to Liam with a frightened expression, so Liam put a hand on his still-padded shoulder. “They’re wizards, Liam. Half of them will be wearing bones or slime or something.”

Hemi swallowed and, after another second nodded. “I want to try on that dress.” The words, alien as they might have been to his tongue, brought an electric feeling to the back of his mind. The coyote dutifully helped him remove the suit, and he and Liam entered the other stall.

The dress, once donned, hung loosely around Hemi’s frame. Somehow, his exposed shoulder felt almost salacious, compared to not wearing any shirt at all, but the feeling was a good one. The fabric was smooth and breathable, so it was not unbearable on his fur. Most importantly, the inner structure of the dress emphasized his physique without being explicit-- it was just a little more sensual than normal. He turned around and around in the mirror, while Liam watched on from the side.

“So… what do you think?”

Hemi looked down at himself, then back up at the mirror. “I think I actually like it--! What do you think?”

“I think it’s gorgeous. It fits you really well! The moon might make it hard to use at other events, but that’s the only downside.”

“I’m alright with that. I’m sure if I end up wearing it often I can find some illusion to cast over the moon -- it’s basically a big white disk, right? Perfect backdrop for an insignia.”

“Right! Well-- do you want to try any of the other dresses? Since we’re on this side of the aisle…?”

“...Um. No, no I think-- I like this one. Aha--” Hemi put a hand against the back of his head and gave a soft, genuine smile. Liam quickly moved to find the cashier -- who ended up being some kind of dog with very curly white fur.

“My friend would like to buy that dress, please!” 

The cashier nodded. “And why not! Oh, but the moon is out of season, isn’t it?”

“It’s fine, it’s for a different event. Actually, the moon was what drew us over here in the first place.”

“Oho!” The cashier dropped her voice. ”And, your friend is happy in… that kind of clothing? We have a suit with the same design in the back--”

Hemi approached. His large ears made it trivial to overhear the conversation from afar. He’d removed the dress and put it onto its hanger, but was still carrying it. He laid the fabric onto the purchase area. “Yes, I’d like to buy the dress. What’s your price?”

The cashier tapped her claw onto a rune engraved in her desk, and a circle of symbols appeared briefly in the air between her and the lynx. “You are a magician, yes? I will ask for a simple service -- production of some lumen oil for my silkworms to feed on. A cup should suffice as payment.”

“Lumen oil… very well. Do you have a cloche?”

The cashier directed Hemi to her alchemy room, and left him to provide his payment while she packaged the dress gently into a clear garment bag. A few minutes later, Hemi emerged with a small container of glowing golden liquid, formed from pure arcane energy. He wiped the sweat from his head -- he’d have to do a more complete grooming in a moment.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” He set the vial onto the payment section. The cashier tapped a rune, and the sign for equivalence appeared in the air. “Then the outfit is yours. I do hope you enjoy wearing it…!” The cashier announced. 

Liam took the dress into his hands. “Thank you!” Hemi nodded in thanks as well, and the two left into the plaza. As midday drew closer, the crows had settled into lines near the food vendors, and it was clearly time to take their leave. Hemi knew the way home by heart, so it was a quick matter to tear open the air again and lead the duo back to their place in another reality.

“You did good today, Hemi.” Liam literally patted the lynx on the back as he groomed.

“It’s strange… I never imagined I’d choose an outfit like that, but-- it really did look alright on me?”

“My friend, I could not have envisioned a dress that would fit you and the occasion better. I know I’m biased, but it’s really nice that you’re taking these kinds of risks now. It was a nice day! When we both get a while off of work, we should go out again -- and not just because I got to watch you try on suits for over an hour this time.”

“Hmph--! I’ll bet that was a real treat…”

“Oh, it was~” Liam said in a tone that made it truly impossible to discern if he was being sincere or just trying to get a rise out of him. Hemi just chuckled and looked back over at the garment bag, now hanging in his wardrobe.

“You should come with me. To the ball.”

“Um-- I’m not a wizard, though?”

“Any good ball allows plus ones. Besides, I know you’ve got some ridiculous giant gown or other in your storage somewhere.”

“I… may, but, I don’t think I’d look-- hey, you don’t get to turn the situation around on me like that!”

Hemi’s chuckle turned into a full laugh. “Revenge really is sweet~ But, seriously, you should come.”

“I’ll think about it. Home’s been pretty busy lately. Tsunamis, droughts-- the people need a nature prophet more than ever. But-- if I’m not actively mitigating some huge catastrophe-- I’ll put on a ‘ridiculous, giant gown’ and come with you to the ball. It’s the least I could do, after today.”

“Thank you.”

“Of-- course.”

The matter decided, each cat went on to enjoy the rest of the afternoon in their own ways.

[thecapturedafrique]

KLAW: Day 4 Post—Childhood/Family

It’s @kingliamappreciationweek’s last day for submissions, and I wanted to share some head canons I’ve developed for my TRR MC Ally and Liam’s three kids. Tagging the amazing hosts @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes!

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Face Claim: Issa Lish

Full Name: Regina Adriani Hongyao Romero de Torres Reese

Noble Title: HRH The Princess Regina of House Reese, Princess of Neso, Duchess of Faryll, Countess of Applewood

Named after her yayá Queen Mother Regina (whose disposition she also shares), Adriani goes by her middle name, though most call her Adri for short

She’s named in Chinese for her late grandmother Eleanor’s favorite flower, as her name 红药 (Hóngyào) means “flower of the Chinese peony”

A model for her godmother Hana’s charity fashion shows part-time, in the fashion world she is known as “the Princess of Poise” for her svelte figure

The definition of a horse girl, Adri is an accomplished equestrian and champion polo player, which has earned her the epithet of “the Centauride”

Bertrand is the favorite of all her uncles and aunts both surrogate and biological, which is helped by Bartie being her best friend

Adri is left-handed and plays the violin, and she often finds herself at odds with her little sister as she winds up playing the Liam to the other’s Leo

Raised by a bisexual mother in a very open environment, she never had to formally come out as a lesbian; rather, she simply demonstrated an attraction to girls—and only girls—from a young age

A total daddy’s girl as well, Adri’s greatest fear is not measuring up to her father as a sovereign

Face Claim: Sebastian Castro

Full Name: Diego Alexander Hongguang Romero de Torres Reese

Noble Title: HRH The Prince Diego of House Reese, Duke of Ennan, Earl of Limáni

Diego’s named after his late maternal grandfather, and in Chinese his name 红光 (Hóngguāng) means “ruddy glow”

His favorite sport is football, and he plays midfield; in fact, he made it into his grandmother Eleanor’s alma mater on a sports scholarship

Of the three royal children, Diego is the one considered the press darling, having won them over with his genuineness and goofball antiques

His godmother taught him how to play the piano, and she is also the favorite of all his aunts and uncles

After coming out as aroace as a teenager, Diego was given the title Duke of Ennan after graduating college rather than upon his marriage as tradition dictates

He’s a mama’s boy and closer to his younger sister than his older one

At 5’7”, Diego is considered a short king, which along with his temperament earned him the epithet of “The Little Prince”

Of all his siblings, he is the best at speaking the multiple languages of their household, which include Greek, Spanish, Sabir, and Putonghua

Face Claim: Jessica Sanchez

Full Name: María-Eleonora Hongyue Romero de Torres Reese

Noble Title: HRH The Princess María-Eleonora of Valtoria

Named after her late maternal great-grandmother and late paternal grandmother, she goes by Nora for short

Her generation name is 红 (Hóng) like the rest of her siblings, and her name 红月 (Hóngyuè) in Chinese means “red moon”

As third in line to the throne, Nora is set to inherit Valtoria from her mother, and thus shares her charge (the phoenix) and colors (gules and or)

She’s the lead guitarist and singer for her own band, Spoiled Barrel, which was formed while she was in lyceum

The night before her cotillion, Nora cut her hair short and dyed it pink, and she keeps it in that style but experiments with various shades

She’s skilled in embroidery and has a passion for fashion like her godmother, having designed most of her personal wardrobe

Even with her penchant for rebellious and impulsive behavior, Liam often says that Nora of all his children reminds him most of his mother

Leo is Nora’s favorite among her many aunts and uncles because he’s one of the only who won’t take her parents’ side when it comes to her acting out

[electralyse]

biography.

name:  ashley liam macgrath. nicknames:  ash, sparkie. age:  21 (march 3rd). gender:  male (he/they). occupation:  former mechanic’s apprentice, former raider. ethnicity:  white. orientation:  gay + asexual. birth place:  california. current location:  ???

eyes:  blue-green. hair:  dirty blond, partially red in his fringe. short and spiky with a mullet. height + weight:  5’6ft / 167cm, 123lbs / 56kgs. build:  lithe, toned legs. tattoos + piercings: ‘03/03’ tattooed on left bicep. wardrobe:  baggy clothes, cargo pants, flannels, combat boots. always seen wearing bright yellow rubber gloves.

ailments:  type 1 narcolepsy, amnestic mild cognitive impairment, slight limp in his left leg. electrokinesis. disposition:  very skittish and avoidant of others. gentle and kind once he opens up. extremely paranoid as a result of his conditions. prefers to be alone but ultimately craves a steady home. alignment:  neutral good. zodiac:  pisces sun, taurus moon, pisces rising.

born in a small community to two researchers, ashley was always fated to follow in his parents’ footsteps. he showed a strong aptitude for science from his early teen years and was quickly recruited as an apprentice within the science division, mainly tinkering with different pieces of machinery to improve quality of life.

unknown to him, ashley’s parents were working with an experimental virus containing introns to change recessive genes from before the world ended. this exposure carried over into his genetics when he was born and remained mostly dormant for his early years. when he became exposed to a small amount of radiation from his apprenticeship, the virus activated and altered his brain functions. this initially resulted in early onset memory loss. 

when he suddenly started to suffer from bouts of memory loss, ashley began to get very confused as to his whereabouts and forgetting who people were. in one panic-filled instance, he ended up running away from the community into the desert. once he had realised how far he’d gone, there was no chance for him to trace his way home.

ashley was eventually recruited by a small band of raiders, trekking further east along the trade routes to the colorado river. most of the other raiders thought ashley to be a bit strange with his occasional lapses in memory but he pulled his weight within the group, ensuring that he wouldn’t get left behind.

after three years with the raiders, around the age of 19, the group were caught in a thunderstorm. ashley was caught outside the house they were all camping in, which led to a lightning strike landed right near him. because of the virus still active, the strike left him with the new ability to manipulate electricity. the raiders, baffled by what they had seen, kicked ashley out immediately and left him to survive on his own in the wasteland.

ashley has been on his own ever since, mainly wandering across the mojave desert and looting abandoned structures to stay alive. while his memory loss has stagnated, the new powers came at their own cost: sudden attacks of sleepiness and loss of muscle control. he does not actively use his powers out of fear that he may hurt someone or himself with them.

[a-prekliatyvlk]

                                    Liam Petrov Wardrobe 

Liam has a unique sense of style seeing as though he doesn’t really give a flying fuck. Leather jackets, studs and cut off vests and flannels make up most of his wardrobe. Though he tends to not wear a shirt when he can and really show off all of his tattoos. He doesn’t care and wears whatever he wants. 

[bbrandy2002]

Fearless

Chapter 4: See the Lights, See the Party, the Ball Gowns

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow​.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

The girls spent their first morning in Cordonia with their respective sponsors, getting the first glimpses of courtly life and preparing for the Masquerade Ball taking place that evening. As much as they wanted to get out and experience all that this little Mediterranean country had to offer, there was just so much to do and little time to do it. 

That morning, while Alyssa worked diligently on learning the steps of the Cordonian Waltz and etiquette with Rashad, Maxwell finally got Riley out of bed in time for a late breakfast. This included meeting his brother, Bertrand, who was none too thrilled with the former waitress from New York. Riley discovered rather quickly that the duke was nothing like the free-spirited Maxwell; if ever there was a picture display of a killjoy, she was sure his scowling face would be plastered dead in the center.  

The day kind of went by in a dizzying blur, especially for Riley, who spent most of it either being lectured by Bertrand, or raiding the kitchen for stress snacks with Maxwell. And as far as anyone knew, Liam was still unaware that the quirky, raven-haired beauty he’d met two nights ago and never expected to see again was in his country, in his palace, and was about to come face-to-face with him.

If she didn’t die of anxiety first. 

Neither of the girls saw each other until much later that afternoon when they linked up in Riley’s room before heading to the palace's salon for last-minute hair and nail appointments. 

Later on in the boutique, Riley sucked in a deep breath and held in her stomach while Alyssa stood behind her, fighting to zip the back of the angel-themed costume she chose for the Masquerade Ball. 

Actually, "chose" was a loose description in this case. The ensemble was one of the last two dresses in the palace's boutique, and Maxwell insisted Riley wear it instead of the more provocative red devil attire to make herself more appealing to the King and Queen. The Beaumont sponsee didn’t give two shits at that moment about impressing the monarchs; her major concern was how she would fit that size-four dress over her size-six body. 

“What the hell did you eat, Ri? This zipper is not budging an inch," an out-of-breath Alyssa groaned as she attempted to pull the tight fabric closer together.  

Steadying her feet firmly to the ground, a jostled-around Riley answered quietly, in a still manner, so as not to undo what little progress her friend had already made, "You know I'm a stress eater. I've experienced many emotions since we left yesterday, and food therapy helps. And your judgment is making me hungry again, so thank you for making it worse."

"I'm not judging you; I'm simply stating a fact: Your ass won’t fit in this dress."

Riley straightened up a little higher, hoping to thin her lean frame out more. "Well, it's gonna have to," she scoffed. "I can't be the only suitor at this ball without the proper attire."

Alyssa tugged harder in frustration. "You know, it might help if I could remove the price tag from the zipper."

"Perhaps." Riley sideways glanced at the two inattentive boutique cashiers before turning her head slightly over her shoulder to acknowledge her best friend in a hushed tone. "But then I wouldn't be able to return it in the morning. $700 for a damn dress is highway robbery, and I won't be a victim to this place's jacked-up prices." She glared back at the fashionably dressed women running the register and hollered out, "You should all be ashamed of yourselves!"

"Shhhh!" Alyssa's face burned with embarrassment while she smiled sheepishly at the bewildered ladies. "Are you crazy? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You mean aside from the usual things that are wrong with me? I'm a nervous wreck, Lyss. Liam still doesn't know that I'm here. I'm about to go wine-and-dine with snobby rich people, while my socially awkward-o-meter is on red alert. And Maxwell's brother didn't like me. How am I supposed to impress Liam, the press, this council, and his parents when my own sponsor hates me?"

"He doesn't hate you," Alyssa replied. "Suck in your stomach a little more ... Rashad told me Duke Beaumont is high-strung and takes all this court business very seriously. If you ask me, give ‘The Brows’ some time. I know he'll love you. And Liam already does!" Alyssa stepped back in delight after tirelessly sliding the last bit of the zipper to the neckline. "Voila! I got it."

Riley stiffly turned toward the full-length mirror -- her insides feeling like they would pop right out of her -- and surveyed the finished product. "Not bad, not bad. A slight muffin top on the sides, and my ass cheeks are packed in tighter than my family around the dessert station at a buffet, but ... I think I can get by with it." Turning to face Alyssa, she lit up with anticipation. "Okay, now it's your turn."

Alyssa plucked the bright red dress off the rack and headed inside one of the many dressing rooms. A moment later, she emerged with a beaming smile on her face and held her arms out to the side to do a show-offish twirl. "So, how do I look?"

"Oh my god, Lyss!" Riley clapped excitedly. "You look so hot in that! That color of red really suits you too. Although, you might want to cover up the girls a little more; I've never seen your boobs look so huge."

"Wha --" Alyssa glanced down at her fully rounded chest, a substantial portion of which was spilling out over the top. She crossed her arms over her breasts in horror. "OH MY GOD! You're right: They're enormous in this thing. I can't go out there like this! They'll be stuffing dollar bills into my cleavage and begging for a lap dance!"

"Well, just ... try to tuck them in," Riley suggested, demonstrating her advice on herself. “You know, the way guys tuck in their junk.”

Alyssa shook her head adamantly, attempting to slide the top of the dress up higher. "I don't think that'll work. It's already extremely tight."

“That’s what he said,” Riley quipped with a snicker, much to the chagrin of her longtime friend, who simply blinked back. “Wow, not even a smile. Come on, Lyss, it’s not that hard.”

Alyssa grinned despite herself, “That’s what she said.”

Riley stepped closer, reaching out to grab a portion of the garment covering Alyssa's bosom, and declared, "Alright, If I can squeeze my fat ass into this dress, you can cram those giant melons into yours. So, get to pushin’, girl.”

-----------

After 10 minutes of stuffing uncooperative breasts into a gown, Alyssa and Riley stepped out of the boutique and made their way to the bottom of the main staircase outside of the ballroom, where Rashad and Maxwell were waiting eagerly for them. 

A grim-faced Rashad approached the pair as they neared. “We were beginning to worry about you two. I hope you didn’t have any trouble.” He reached out and greeted Alyssa with a friendly kiss to the cheek as Riley made her way up to Maxwell, who did the same.

“No troubles,” Alyssa assured him, before staring down at her chest to make sure certain parts were still contained inside her dress. “Just some slight wardrobe issues that I think we’ve taken care of.”

Riley frowned, rubbing a soothing hand over her squeezed-in stomach. “Let’s just say we both feel like canned biscuits.”

“And I’m petrified of canned biscuits!” Alyssa shrieked, then spoke in a lower, punier voice in Rashad’s direction. “They make that popping sound that scares the hell out of me.” He nodded sympathetically at her admission, having no clue what canned biscuits were.

Maxwell let out a chuckle. “Either way, you both look awesome! Like two totally righteous peas in a pod and all that jazz.” He peeked over at Riley, who wasn’t appearing too sure of herself, or of anything for that matter, knowing she’d spent most of the day in a subtle panic. While she steadied her breath, he looped his arm through hers and leaned over. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to go in there like the boss you are and knock them all dead. I just know it.”

Riley swallowed thickly, “But Liam --”

“Will be over the moon with excitement to see you again. Do you think I’d go through all the trouble of trying to convince you, and then Alyssa, to come all the way here -- not to mention, facing my brother’s wrath -- if I didn’t believe Liam would want to see you again?” Riley half-shrugged, but Maxwell could tell by the little glimmer of hope he caught in her eyes and the slight curl at the corner of her plush pink lips that she knew it was true. “If he’s not happy about seeing you, I’ll book you on the first flight back to New York, and you can punch me in the gut or something. But I can tell you with certainty: No man goes out with a woman and keeps his friends up most of the night talking about how amazing she was if he doesn’t want to see her again.”

Riley could feel a tinge of pink color her cheeks and looked away for a brief moment, knowing he was right. She was about to see her prince again. Simply knowing how happy Liam was when they parted ways that night made her heart flutter. The blushing suitor peered back at the towering man on her arm and smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Max.” 

As they both stared straight ahead at the set of double doors where Alyssa was making her grand entrance into the ballroom with Rashad, Riley pointed out, “You realize if you had said all that stuff to me this morning and five bloated pounds ago, I wouldn’t have cried to you all day over pints of ice cream, half a sheet cake, and a bag of Mini Snickers?”

Lord Beaumont grinned without looking at her as the orchestral music inside erupted through the newly opened threshold that awaited their crossing. A gleam of anticipation glistened the cobalt hue of his eyes.”That’s our cue. Time to look alive, Twinkle Toes, it’s showtime.”

__________

It felt like a million pairs of eyes bore through Riley when the announcer spoke her name out to the guest in the ballroom. In reality, few paid much attention to the young woman dressed in pure white, from the feathery halo perched above her fancy swept-up hairdo to the tiny heels that sparkled like glittery specks of fairy dust on her feet.  

As Maxwell ushered her proudly through the spectacular crowd adorned in the finest silks and chiffons, faces concealed behind extravagant masks similar to hers, and opulent table spreads of gold and crimson, Riley searched the four corners of the room for one particular set of the bluest eyes she’d ever encountered -- she had Liam’s memorized by heart. However, the only ones she recognized came from her smiling best friend, standing casually beside the Lord of Domvallier at the bar, keeping her word to watch out for her. With a subtle grin from Alyssa to convey she had her back, the whirlwind of fear and chaotic thoughts that overwhelmed Riley quickly dissipated into thin air. 

Baby steps.

While Maxwell and Riley headed to the center of the ballroom to meet up with Bertrand, across the way, Alyssa ordered a cranberry vodka from the bar. She was wearing red and needed a drink that matched perfectly with the fabric in case of accidental spillage. As the bartender poured her glass, she tore her vigilant gaze from Riley when Rashad’s cell rang. Seconds later, he covered his phone lightly with a palm and lowered it away from his ear to speak with her. 

“This is my client in California. Will you be okay for a little bit while I take this out on the balcony?”

Alyssa nodded. “Of course. Take your time. Is there anything I should be doing while you’re gone?”

“Try mingling with the crowd. Get to know the other suitors. The best way to help Riley tonight is to get a feel for the competition. Figure out who you can potentially get on her side and who is going to cause her trouble.”

“With all due respect, this isn’t Survivor.”

Rashad grinned before excusing himself. “We'll see if you still feel that way by the end of the social season.”

What is it with all the Debbie Downers here? He sounds just like -- Before she could finish that thought, a stroke of irony occurred when she caught the denim-clad Drake, standing out like a sore thumb, making his way up to the bar. She quickly spun around on the barstool and hovered over her freshly poured beverage. 

Tapping the bar's woodgrain top, Drake called for, “The usual,” before plopping down on the stool next to her. His woodsy scent filled the air and wafted in her direction; she wondered if he’d even recognize her.

Pressing the rim of the glass to her lips to take the first nervous sip of her drink, she wondered why she even cared if he did.

Alyssa set the vodka cranberry down on a cocktail napkin at the same time Drake reached for his tumbler of whiskey. A brush of their hands caused them both to retreat away before he bowed his head respectfully to her. 

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Drake was quick to apologize. He never knew which stuck up nobles would have an issue with a commoner’s simple touch.

Alyssa lifted a brow and smirked in response. “So you do have manners?”

He’d recognize that wily voice anywhere. Grumbling, Drake responded. “Aww, hell! Pipsqueak? Is that you?”

“Hello, Sunshine.” She dimpled.

Drake shook his head. “I should have known. Of all the damn people in this room, I still managed to find you.”

“I would call that a very lucky day for you then.” Alyssa lifted her drink and tipped back a gulp. “So what’re you doing here? Don’t you have some royal cows or chickens to herd around or something? Who wears denim and jeans to a fancy ball?” 

She would if she could get away with it.

His tight shoulder muscles bounced slightly with disingenuous laughter as his chestnut eyes took in her sultry devilish costume. “I could ask you the same about your own clothes. Suitors are supposed to dress up for these things. Not come as themselves.”

Offended, Alyssa arched back contemptuously. “Are you calling me a devil?”

“If the horns and pitchfork fit.” Drake retorted. He motioned with his glass across the room. “By the way, you see that blazing redhead who just stole your little friend away from Maxwell?” When Alyssa snapped her gaze protectively in that direction, he continued, “That’s Olivia. You might want to check in on … what’s her name again?”

“Riley ...” Her tone was resentful. He knows damn well what her name is. 

“Whatever. Just trust me on this, if the two of you know what’s good for ya -- and I’m betting you don’t -- you’ll stay as far away from Olivia and the rest of these social-climbing fuckers as possible.” His mood suddenly shifted as he drained his drink, then slammed it on the bar top, motioning with his hand to the bartender for another.

Alyssa was quick to notice the tension in his jaw and the immense throb of protruding veins in his forearm as he nursed his drink. “What climbed up your ass and died? Why are you even here if you hate everyone so much? 

He quickly snapped. “I’m here for Liam!”

“Well, I’m here for Riley!” The two of them glared at each other in a tense showdown that neither was willing to back down from. After a beat, Alyssa’s determination weakened somewhat; confrontations made her jittery. 

And with him in particular.

Letting her shoulders slump, Alyssa let out a soft breath as she relaxed. “I’m trying to give her some space … but do I need to go check on Riley?” The question was asked sincerely. 

Drake turned his head back, his vision crossing the vast expanse of the room and landing on a perturbed Riley in conversation with Olivia. He scowled, recognizing the expression impressed on her face all too well. “We’re outsiders, Alyssa. You. Me. Riley. That’s the only thing they’ll ever see. It’s the only way they’ll ever treat us.” He shifted to face Alyssa again. “Take that for what you will. If she were my friend … I would.”

_______

Riley shook her head emphatically. “There’s no way I’m supposed to kiss the king’s shoe. That’s weird, creepy, and-and- unsanitary!” She nodded toward a masked couple standing before the seated king who bowed, curtsied, and then exited to the left. “They didn’t kiss his shoe. I think you’re full of shit.” 

“Riley, Riley, Riley.” The duchess shook her head with an exasperated tone. “Those people are well-established and highly-regarded members of the court … you’re not. And while I admit it’s a rather unorthodox Cordonian royal custom, it’s part of our tradition that the newest members humble themselves before the king in an act of deep respect and reverence. I’m actually astounded Maxwell never bothered to tell you.” She flipped back a thick curly-q strand of hair that hung over her shoulders. “Do what you want. But don’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

Riley hesitated. “I guess I’ll keep it in mind …?”

“Great!” Olivia wrapped a firm hand around Riley’s wrist and pulled her toward the throne where the king sat. “You’re so lucky that I was here to warn you! Otherwise, you’d have looked utterly ridiculous.”

“Wait! Where are we going? Riley demanded, her feet barely able to keep up with the brisk pace. 

“To present you to King Constantine.”

“But I need to wait for my sponsor!” Riley protested. She struggled to break free, but the redhead’s clawlike grip was surprisingly strong. 

“Every second counts, Riley. These women have all known Liam for years. The early bird gets the Crown.”

“But I --” Panicked, Riley scoured the room for the Beaumonts and found them standing near the hors d'oeuvres table embroiled in what appeared to be a heated discussion.

“What the fuck?” On the opposite side of the ballroom, Alyssa spotted Olivia hauling Riley across the floor. Before Drake had the chance to warn her this wasn’t good, an enraged Alyssa was already sliding down off the barstool, stampeding off in hot pursuit of finding out what this redheaded troll was doing with her best friend. 

And for reasons he couldn’t fully understand, feeling frustrated beyond comprehension, Drake followed right on her heels.

Coming to a screeching halt before the raised dais, Olivia thrust Riley forward, who nearly tripped from the momentum into the bottom step at the sudden stop.

It took every ounce of restraint Riley had not to turn toward the woman who had forcibly dragged her across the room and to stick a pair of size-seven heels straight up her ass. She, however, liked the pretty, sparkly shoes she had on too much to ruin them … and wanted to end the evening outside of a hospital bed. “Asshole,” she muttered almost soundlessly.

“Your Majesty,” Olivia smirked. “I would like to present to you the suitor House Beaumont has chosen. Lady Riley.”

Riley gave her a cursory glare. It was the moment of truth. She plastered on her best smile for the King, who regarded her with a nod. 

Just … just do it. “Your Majesty.” Riley dipped into a low curtsy and held it in place for several seconds before contemplating the validity of Olivia’s outlandish claim and swallowing hard. “Here goes nothing.”

Placing both palms on the plush red carpeting that laid at the feet of the King, she lowered herself slowly until her knees rested on the top step.

“What the hell is she doing?” Alyssa questioned as she desperately weaved around a sea of faces, dodging server trays and tables along the way. “And where the hell is Maxwell?”

“I don’t know ...” Drake answered, practically pushing her even more quickly through the crowd, “ … but you better move faster. There’s no damn telling what Olivia told her to do.”

Riley paused briefly, staring at the simple black shoes that almost resembled a shiny boot. She wanted to be kissing Liam right now, not his father’s old fricking foot. Worst vacation ever.

Lowering her head gradually toward Constantine’s shoes, she scrunched up her face and reluctantly puckered up. 

Out of nowhere, a body with the vigor of a wild stallion in full sprint barrelled into her side, sending Riley hurling across the dais and causing her to land face-down on the marbled floor below.

"What is the meaning of this?" An enraged Constantine bolted up, his ire focused on Alyssa, hunkered down on all fours at his feet, striving to catch her breath.

Maxwell and Bertrand heard the commotion and came rushing to Riley’s side when they realized it was her sprawled out and jerking on the floor.  

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," an apologetic Alyssa said as she reached up for the hand Drake was offering. The King's glare at her was nerve-wracking as he waited for an explanation -- until Drake stepped up in front of her, blocking her view of the incensed monarch. "I can explain."

"I hope you can, young lady." Constantine glowered, baffled as to why Drake Walker was still standing between them … and mirroring every movement she made. When she shifted, he shifted. When she moved her arm, he did the same. Was this some type of game?

“Uh … um.” Alyssa's mind raced with excuses. She couldn't very well tell him the truth and make Riley or herself look bad -- she was still a representative of Duchy Domvallier. There was only one thing she could think of to say as she whipped around Drake and pointed at him. "This man pushed me!"

Drake's body stiffened at her accusation. "The hell you talking about?" 

She covered her eyes with a hand, pretending to sob. "I was on my way up here to pay my respects to you, sir, when this man ..." she paused to take in a fake stuttering breath, "... came out of nowhere and pushed me from behind. I tried to stop myself from running into anyone, but I couldn't. Too much momentum." Alyssa lowered her hand and stared at a wide-eyed Drake. "I’m just a small person, mister. Why would you do that? Why? What did I ever do to hurt you?"

"I never --"

"Drake?" The King eyed him sternly. "Is this true? Did you push this young woman?"

Drake’s defensive stance was no match for Alyssa’s pleading eyes, begging him to save her from this. “Please,” she mouthed.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “I … I’m sorry, Sir. Lady Alyssa’s extremely long dress was dragging the floor and I stepped on it. When I lifted my foot off, she ... I don’t know … flung forward. I tried to grab her before she went flying, but she got away, and that must be why she thought I pushed her.” Drake lowered his gaze to Alyssa. “You really shouldn’t shop in the adult section, miss.”

“Is it possible you were mistaken, Lady ... Alyssa?”

She nodded. “Yes, that is surely possible,” she agreed in a rehearsed-sounding tone. “It’s all coming back to me now.”

“Well, then.” Constantine's contented glance drifted to Drake. “It’s good to know you didn’t push an innocent suitor on purpose, Drake. But just know this … I’ll be watching you.” 

“Looking forward to it, sir. Thank you, sir.” Drake quickly bowed his head as Constantine returned to his seat to greet the next guest. He grabbed Alyssa’s elbow and rushed her off to the side of the dais.

-----------

Maxwell knelt beside a disheveled Riley, helping her rise to her feet and dusting her off. 

“Lady Riley,” a scowling Bertrand glared, “what on earth is the meaning of this? The glory of House Beaumont is on the line tonight, and you’ve already made your first blunder. I told you, Maxwell, this was a mistake.”

Slightly dazed, Riley stumbled while massaging a sore wrist. Inclining her head so she could see him under the halo that drooped over her eyes, she retorted, “I was shoved, Berturd. It’s not like I did this on purpose. And thank you for your concern; I’m fine, by the way.”

“Shoved? By whom?” The three of them turned to see Alyssa and Drake scampering off to a corner. “It was Domvallier’s suitor?” Bertrand asked incredulously. “This is preposterous! It’s beneath Lord Rashad’s character to have his suitor and Drake Walker sabotage ours. I will have to go over there and put an end to this travesty at once.” 

“NO!” Riley and Maxwell barked.

"Bertrand. Why don't you let Riley and I handle them while you play damage control with the King? Unless ..." he smirked. " You want me to smooth things over with His Majesty? I have a lot to say about how Twinkle Toes just SAILED through the air at warp speed --"

"Dear God, no, Maxwell! There will be no need for your … input. But, you two, get results from Drake and that suitor. No funny business," he warned.

The two of them nodded in understanding. As soon as Bertrand turned his back and marched away, they both gave a knowing glance to the other before rushing over to Drake and Alyssa, who had just made it to a far corner of the ballroom, 

Alyssa yanked her elbow away from his vice-like grasp. “I believe we’re out of the clear; you can let go of me now.”

“Listen. I have to tell you something, ‘cause you need to know it ... “ Drake swallowed thickly, his rounded eyes focused squarely on the woman who’d just thrown him under the bus to King Constantine. He spoke as if he had something caught in his throat, “You--your-- uh -- ”

“And who made these damn shoes, anyway?” Alyssa complained as she hiked up the lower part of her dress and stepped out of her heels. Her already short stature lowered several inches. “They clearly hate short women and feet. Seriously, who thought walking around like a newborn calf was sexy?”

“Alyssa,” Drake tried again to speak through a strained voice, “You need to listen --”

“Hey!” Riley interrupted as she and Maxwell stepped up to them. “Why’d you push me off that stage thingy? And OH MY GOD, ALYSSA! YOUR --” Maxwell slapped a hand over Riley’s mouth, knowing exactly what her big mouth was getting ready to loudly announce.

Her frantic muffled words continued to blabber through his tightly clasped hand.

Alyssa gave him a confused look. “Maxwell, what are you doing?”

“Just stopping her before she told everyone within earshot ...” he paused fleetingly, lowering his gaze from the muddled expression on her face to her chest. “Your bosoms … well, they have emerged.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before,” a flustered Drake said as Alyssa let out a gasp and looked down. “You’ve been ... exposed … since --” He was quickly cut off again by her tiny wail as she fixed herself and dashed out of the ballroom, mortified, her arms crossed over her chest.

--------------------

Riley tapped lightly on the women’s restroom door. “Lyss? You okay in there?”

“No!” Her pouty voice rang back. “I’m the laughingstock of this entire court.”

Maxwell chuckled, hollering back. “You don’t have to worry about that, Lady Alyssa. I’ve already got that title covered in spades.”

“You two need to get back to the ball,” Drake said gruffly, referring to the girls. “Liam will be arriving any minute.”

“You’re right. There are probably five people in there who still haven’t gotten an up close shot of my breasts.” Alyssa swung the door open, bitterly hitching up the front of her dress as she stepped out, and glared up at Drake as she walked by. “And you let me walk around like that!”

“I did not!” He flushed a deep, dark red. “I told you, that’s why I was standing in front of you, so no one would see … ugh, fuck it. Just -- let’s go, okay?” 

A remorseful Riley hugged Alyssa. “I’m so sorry my dumb ass was what caused this to happen to you. Thank you for making sure I didn’t make a fool of myself.”

Alyssa squeezed tighter. “It was way better that it happened to me than you. We can definitely have a good laugh over this by the time I’m, like, 150.” When they let go of one another, she smiled at her friend. “Come on, we have a ball to get back to. And you have a prince to dazzle.”

“Oh, you guys go on ahead. I need a minute to straighten up.”

Drake, Alyssa, and Maxwell headed back inside while Riley spent a few minutes in the bathroom wiping away the dust off her dress and getting her hair back in order as best as she could. Plus, she just needed a moment to herself; it was the first time since she woke up that morning that someone wasn’t hovering over her shoulder or trying to impress someone. There also were some major jitters happening knowing the Prince was arriving at any second.

Stepping out a few minutes later, Riley headed back down the hallway, hopeful she still appeared as presentable as when she arrived earlier. 

Dotted along the walls that trailed back to the ballroom were portraits and artwork of kings and queens. Judging by the large periwigs, justaucorps, and stockings over breeches depicted, obviously they were quite old. One particular painting caught her attention enough to halt her steps before she plastered on a naughty grin.

“Ohhhh, what do we have here?” Riley snickered, leaning in closer to get a better glimpse. “I see London, I see France, I see a very hung King without his pants.” She fanned a hand in front of her face and spoke as if she were Scarlett O’Hara herself. “My, my, my, Fabian, I haven’t seen a lot of those, but I do declare, you put all the Yanks I’ve been with to shame. I’d be remiss to not ask if you were generous enough to pass on certain sizable traits, say to … Oh, I don’t know, the current Crown Prince?”

“Frankly, my dear … I don’t think he gave a damn,” a deep voice quipped over her shoulder.

Riley spun around, her body crashing into the portrait and causing it to rattle against the wall and lean heavily. Her face burned red-hot as soon as she heard his voice, even though every ounce of blood in her body seemed to rush to her wobbly feet. Liam reached out, grasping hold of her arms to brace her as she stared back, slack-jawed and weak-kneed, at his half-masked face, smiling warmly. “L-L-Li --”

“My sincerest apologies if I startled you, my lady. Are you okay?”

Her throat was dry, and surely no one in all history had ever been as embarrassed as she was at that moment, but she managed to answer feebly, “I think … I pissed my pants.” They both looked down at the floor simultaneously, relief washing over them that there were no puddles. Riley closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. “Oh, thank God.”

Liam chuckled, his twinkling blue eyes glued to her flustered face. “You’re just as beautiful as you were that night in New York, Riley Brooks.”

“Wait … you know that it’s me? Are you surprised? Are you upset? Do you think I’m some creepy stalker now? I swear I’ve never even touched a weapon.”

“Really? What happened to your bag of Chinese throwing stars?” Liam teased lightheartedly. Riley tilted her head in confusion. “You remember, the ones you were going to throw at me in the alley outside of your bar --”

“Oh. Yes. Right,” she laughed awkwardly as the memory came to her. “Yeah, I may have embellished the truth there a bit. Twenty-pound hams seem to be more my weapon of choice.” Riley hung her head. Why the hell did I just tell him that? When Bastien cleared his throat and gave Liam a pointed look, Riley knew their time was short. “I know you have to go, but I just need to know something: How did you know I was here? Maxwell tried to get in touch with you and never heard back. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me showing up here.”

“I’ve been quite busy since leaving New York with preparations for the social season and the Masquerade kicking off this evening. But it was Drake who came pounding on my door this morning to fill me in. You can imagine my surprise when he told me that you were here, and, I quote, ‘brought her small aggressive friend with her as guard dog.’”

Riley smirked with a shrug. “Can ya blame a girl? I came to win. Besides, I really like you, Liam.”

He smiled. “I really like you too, Riley. But this isn’t New York. As much as I wish we could just pick up where we left off two nights ago, this entire series of events is set up not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, the Council, and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on, everyone will be watching you and ... Lady Alyssa.” Liam paused to chuckle and shake his head in amusement. “You actually got your friend to pose as a fake suitor and somehow convinced an honorable and highly dignified member of the court to sponsor her?”

“Yeaaaah, I still don’t know how the hell I did that. I should get extra points for my manipulation skills”

Liam laughed. "I believe you mean, negotiation skills."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, those too."

Already well past the time to make his grand entrance, Bastien approached Liam to give the final warning. Liam acknowledged him and turned back to Riley. “I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me. But until then …” He pressed her willing body against the wall, tracing the back of his forefinger along her velvety cheek. “ … just know how very, very, happy I am to have you here, Riley.” His lips were fire and ice when he leaned down to meet her equally fevered ones in a lingering kiss. And she melted right into him.

With that, Liam was whisked away by the head guard and made his way into the ballroom. As a panting Riley brushed her fingertips over the tingling in her bottom lip, she felt so many things all at once: relief that he was happy she was there and already knew everything regarding Alyssa, and that same exhilarating bliss that swept her off her feet two days ago when they shared their time together. But he was abundantly clear, this wasn’t New York anymore, and he still had a duty and obligation to Cordonia regardless of his apparent feelings for her. 

Riley let a puff of air and pushed her backside off the wall to return inside. Just as she did this, the crooked frame bearing the likeness of the late King Fabian she admired earlier fell from its hook and crashed to the floor, causing the ancient glass to shatter beside her. With her head shrunken into her shoulders, Riley slowly peeked out one eye and saw the damage. Glancing down one end of the hall to the other to see if anyone saw her, she glanced down at the shards and still fully intact artwork. Normally she would have hightailed it out of there, but she couldn’t help herself from giving her destruction parting words. 

“I guess you’re not … hung anymore.”

Then she bolted the hell out of there.

--------------

Fearless tags: @dcbbw​​ @ao719​​  @texaskitten30​​ @janezillow​ @mskaneko​  @callmeellabella​ @queenjilian​ @sirbeepsalot​  @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @bebepac​ @kingliam2019​  @amandablink​  @choiceskatie​ @annekebbphotography​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​ @alyssalauren​ @mom2000aggie​  @princessleac1​ @kimmiedoo5​ @graceful-leah​ @thegreentwin​ @gkittylove99​  @pink-diamond13​ @tinkie1973​ @queenrileyrose​ @zaffrenotes​ @no-one-u-know​ @sammie0220​ @shanzay44​ @yourmajesty09​  @bitchloveskcbaseball​ @kat-tia801​ @openheart12​ @drakeandkatherine​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @masterofbluff​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @msjr0119​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @sanchita012 @gabesmommie1130​ @charlotteg234​ @jessiembruno​ @debramcg1106​ @neotericthemis​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @sweetest-marbear​ @darley1101​ @choicesstan650​ @shewillreadyou​ @emkay512​ @txemrn​ @lucy-268​ @axwalker​ @busywoman​

[angelasscribbles]

Movie Night in Valtoria

Series: Hinge.

Fandom: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairings: Drake x Riley x Liam

Rating: G, this is pure fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: See author's note on Polyamory and more.

Everything else: Master List.

A/N: This scene has been bouncing around in my head for awhile, but its ahead of where I’m at in the other series’ I’m currently working on. When I saw the prompt for Tropetober, I knew I had to skip ahead and write it. This is the prompt for September 10th but I’m posting a day early because I have no patience. The prompt is: slice of life/domestic/found family. 

For my other stuff: Master List.

It was movie night in Valtoria. No one was drunk. No one was even drinking, they were trying to be supportive of Riley, since she couldn’t drink; being pregnant and all.

“So, what are we watching tonight?” Hana asked as she sank into her usual spot, the pink armchair with the oversized cushion. Most of the house was impeccably decorated, with everything matching and complementing, right down to the sconces on the walls. This room was…….less formal. It was the room Riley referred to as the “be comfortable room”. Nothing matched. There was no theme. Extra blankets and pillows were strewn everywhere. This was her favorite room because it was messy. Because she could relax in it. Company never saw it, so it was always “Riley ready” as she called it. On a moment’s notice, she could be curled up on the giant modular couch, with pillows for reclining as well as propping up feet, snuggled under a ridiculously soft blanket, the TV remote control, favorite snacks, and a book within arm’s reach. This is where she hung out on days morning sickness wouldn’t let her do anything else.

Drake slid the disk into the Blu-ray player and answered, “The Proposal.” He picked up the remote and walked back to the couch, handing it to Riley where she lay with her head on Liam’s lap. He sat down on the other side of her and pulled her feet into his lap and began to massage the arches.

“Oohhh that feels good!” She wiggled her toes.

“Riley picked it.” Liam supplied as he took the bowl of popcorn Max handed him, grabbing a fistful before placing it on Riley’s stomach where the three of them could all reach it.

Max nodded as he stuffed popcorn into his own mouth, “Never seen it.”

“I know, none of you have, that’s why I picked it.”

“There’s a reason for that Campbell, it’s a romcom.” Drake rolled his eyes in mock exasperation.

“Those are the best kind of movies.” Riley informed him.

“Oooh! It’s got Betty White in it!” Max squealed, reading the back of the Blu-ray box, “I love her!”

“Everyone loves her.” Riley replied.

“Who’s Betty White?” Liam and Hana asked in unison.

“An American treasure.” Riley replied. “Also, Ryan Reynolds is hot.”

“Should I be worried about competition?” Liam asked with a chuckle.

Riley laughed in return, “Not even close.” She looked up at him and touched his face. “Oh, sorry I just smeared you with butter.”

“Quite alright my love.” He said as she wiped at his face.

“How long are you here for this time Max?” Hana asked, “I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“I’ve been busy helping Bertrand, but I have the next few days free.” Maxwell was the only one of them that wasn’t currently living at the Valtoria estate. Ramsford was still his home, but he came for frequent visits, often days in length. He was enjoying taking on new responsibilities for the estate, it made him feel more responsible and grown up. Bertrand was proud of him and that made him happy. He was trying to make up for lost time with his dad now that he was back, but he made plenty of time to spend at Valtoria. Riley had made sure that he had the official title of Royal Advisor to the Queen, he still helped with all her wardrobe choices. He was over the moon excited about the baby.

“Shhh, it’s starting! Maxwell, get the lights!” Hana had settled into life in Valtoria quickly. The biggest adjustment had been the freedom, she wasn’t used to deciding how to fill up her days for herself. It helped that Riley had given her full control over all household decisions, specifically creative control over the decorating. When Hana’s parents had disowned her, she had moved in with Riley at her duchy. She was on good terms with her parents again, but she had no desire to return to Shanghai. Her life was in Cordonia now. Riley was the best friend she had ever had, and she was about to have a baby. No way she was leaving her. Hana stayed busy running the household, planning the baby shower and helping set up the nursery. Riley had encouraged her to find outside interests but wasn’t pushing. Hana had taken a few art classes, a cooking class, and a country and western dance class. She volunteered at a couple of charities; she was taking her time finding herself.

“Oh my God, the eagle really took the dog!” Liam laughed so hard, he almost dropped the popcorn. He righted the bowl as he passed it back to Riley, contentment stealing over him. Liam worked from home as much as possible, commuting to the palace when necessary and limiting trips so that he could be around in case Riley needed him for anything. Yes, they had staff that could wait on her hand and foot, but he wanted to be hands on, as a husband and a father. He was trying to find a work/life balance, it was difficult with an entire country depending on him, but it was worth it. He had the family he had always wanted and that didn’t just include Riley and the baby. His family, his village (Riley had explained to him what that was) was made up of the people sitting in the room with him. He looked around the room and his heart filled with happiness. His family, sitting around watching a movie and eating popcorn; what an incredibly normal and amazing thing to be doing on a Saturday night. He was working from Valtoria the next two weeks then he had a short business trip that couldn’t be avoided. He hated leaving Riley while she was carrying their child, but it made him feel better knowing that Hana and Drake were always there with her.

“Why doesn’t he just admit that he likes her already?” Drake asked then glared when everyone laughed at him. Yes, he got the irony of him asking that question. He had fought his feelings for good reasons though. It felt good not to have to fight them anymore. When Riley became queen, Drake’s job duties shifted. He and Liam had figured out how to best position him to have official reasons to be with Riley most of the time. He knew Liam trusted him with her life, but he would have protected her regardless of official reasons or even his promises to Liam. He would always protect her because he loved her. It was that simple. Drake sighed as he sank down into the couch, running his thumbs gently across the balls of her feet. He had never expected to find a place he belonged, especially among the nobility but here he was, at the side of a queen and ridiculously happy and content to be there. Valtoria did feel like home, because she was in it and because Liam was in it and even, to a lesser extent, Maxwell and Hana. This life that they had carved out of the mess they were given was a gift. He knew that not everyone would understand their arrangement, the life they lived, but it was theirs and it was good, and he was happy.

“Here comes my favorite part!” Everyone howled with laughter as Betty White danced to Get Low and Riley felt pretty proud of herself for her movie pick. Hana was snuggled into her pink chair, laughing with no trace of self-consciousness. She had really come out of her shell in the last several months. Max had pulled a giant red bean bag across the room so that he was positioned right in front of the TV. Max and Hana were the siblings she had always wanted and never had. She sighed contently as she lay stretched out between the two men she loved. She could feel one of Liam’s hands tangled in her hair, the other resting on top of her baby bump, her hand laying on top of his. Drake had stopped massaging her feet but one of his arms was draped along her leg, hand resting on her hip, his other absent mindedly tracing small circles on the top of her foot. She felt a familiar flutter that was the baby was moving, then a more defined movement. Was that a kick? Until now, only Riley had been able to feel the small flutters of the child nestled inside her.

Liam turned his head to stare at her, “Riley, was that-?”

She felt it again and by the look of wonder on his face, so had Liam.

Everyone was looking now.

“What is it? Everything ok?” Drake asked as he sat up and moved forward to take her hand in his.

“Yes!” Riley nodded, as she sat up, tears of happiness in her eyes, “The baby just kicked!”

“What?” His eyes went from Riley to Liam then dropped down to her stomach as a huge grin spread across his face, “Can I try?”

Riley nodded and Liam moved his hand so Drake could place his there. He waited, nothing. He looked up at Riley, “I don’t think-“

Kick.

Drake’s eyes widened in amazement, “Oh! I felt it!”

Max and Hana joined them, jostling for a turn.

“I’m next Max, back off!”

The next few minutes were spent with everyone taking a turn feeling the baby kick. “I think our little one liked the song.” Riley laughed. When the baby decided to stop kicking, everyone went back to their places and Riley hit play to unpause the movie. She snuggled back onto the couch, leaning into Drake and laying her head on his shoulder as his arm went around her. Liam leaned back on the other side of her, his hand sliding around her leg to rest on the inside of her thigh. She knew the demands of the court waited right outside the door of the be comfortable room, but they could wait. For the moment, she was perfectly at peace, perfectly happy, and everything was right with the world.

[the-big-nope]

While I’m certainly nowhere near ready for the story of the Mighty Nein to come to an end, I am also a D&D nerd and there’s a new sourcebook coming out soon with a bunch of new subclasses in it. By the time Campaign 3 of Critical Role gets underway, that book will be published, leaving a wealth of new options for the cast members to choose from, so why not entertain myself by making barely justified predictions of what the cast is most likely to pick for their next characters! (Disclaimer: Some of the new subclasses have been confirmed and some haven’t, so for a few of these picks I’m just going off of what I think is going to be in the book).

Travis

Cleric (Tempest Domain): Travis has been playing lowkey EMT since campaign one, and Laura’s already confirmed that Travis almost went cleric for campaign two. Between Grog with his barb-boosted movement speed to get around the battlefield so he could shove healing potions into his squishier teammates, and Fjord multiclassing into paladin and lovingly tapping his friends with single hit points to get them back up, it would be delightful to see him fully jump in and embrace the classical healer role. Of course, this is Travis, so I don’t see him picking a cleric domain that doesn’t allow for at least some whoop-ass, and Tempest Domain brings plenty of it. You get proficiency with all armor and weapons, Divine Strike at level 8 for boosted melee damage, you can use a reaction to inflict lightning or thunder damage against any enemy within melee range that’s hit you. And if you climb up high enough in levels, you gain a flying speed equal to your walking one whenever you’re outdoors. Pretty nifty, and makes for a fitting subclass for a guy that’s voiced Thor on multiple occasions.

Blood Hunter (Order of the Lycan): I mean, come on. The only reason it isn’t number one is that it was already widely assumed this would be Travis’s pick for campaign two, and I wouldn’t put it past him to surprise us again. But still, we saw him get a taste in Liam’s one shot and he was clearly having the time of his life. Besides, we lost Molly far too early to really see the blood hunter’s potential come to life; it would be damn cool to see someone else take a crack at it, and Travis is enough of a D&D gambler to not shy away from the class’s riskier features.

Artificer (Armorer): Speaking of Marvel connections, if Travis doesn’t lean toward fantasy Thor, then fantasy Iron Man might catch his attention instead. Artificer is an official class now, and since it’ll be reprinted in TCoE by the time campaign 3 gets underway, it’ll be a lot more visible as an option. The Armorer sits in almost a perfect middle ground of what Travis has done before: tanky and a frontliner, but also still has spells and tricks to help the party. Plus, you get a badass suit of power armor out of it. What’s not to like?

Marisha

Bard (College of Creation): After Hazel Copperpot, we all saw the pure magic that was Marisha Ray playing a bard. I know she implied that Hazel was supposed to be her campaign two backup character, but I hope this doesn’t discourage her from making another one. There are quite a few bard subclasses, a number of which I could see her being drawn to (Lore, Glamour, maybe even Swords), but I really vibe with the idea of Creation. I can’t exactly say why; maybe the idea of the ‘dancing object’ feature in Marisha’s hands is very funny to me (remember Keyleth’s adorable “Be Our Guest” moment? That, but this time it’s a walking wardrobe beating the shit out of the enemy).

Paladin (Oath of Vengeance/Conquest): As of yet, no one on Critical Role has ever played a paladin from the start, only multiclassed later down the line. I think this would be a cool departure for Marisha. Both campaigns she’s played characters that were either suspicious or at least indifferent to faith and the gods. Paladins are typically associated with deities, but they’re not tied quite so closely to them as clerics are. It would be fascinating to see what she did with it. As for the subclass, I just think Marisha’s earned her turn on the Goth Character Carousel, and while I know Conquest paladin is very unlikely given its moral grayness by default which might cause undue conflict and that Vengeance is a much more likely and acceptable pick, I just think it would be a sexy character choice. 

Wizard (Bladesinger/Graviturgist): This is a much more pie-in-the-sky, wishful thinking pick on my end, but not impossible imo. Marisha has experience with heavy spellcasting already, so she probably wouldn’t shy away from a wizard, but like Travis I suspect she likes a bit of oomph to her characters, and probably wouldn’t play as support heavy as Caleb does. To that end, Bladesingers get a bit more survivability and some modicum of physical prowess alongside their spells, while Graviturgists are definitely on the more aggressive side of the spectrum for wizard subclasses, with unique dunamancy spells to boot. I’m not sure how restrictive Matt would be about Xhorhassian characters in the next campaign if it takes place on another continent, but hey, you never know. Plus, she picked one of Matt’s homebrew subclasses for the current campaign; it would be cute if it happened again.

Liam

Druid (Circle of the Shepherd): At some point before Critical Role comes to end (hopefully far in the future), I know Liam’s gonna play a druid, I can feel it in my bones. He's too big of a Kiki fan not to. However, while Circle of the Moon might feel obvious given the potential for homage and how much he likes turning into animals, I feel like he might regard it as getting too close to old territory (also, I don’t know if Circle of the Moon is like an exclusive thing to the Ashari tribes, and if it is that would be rather restrictive for building a backstory). If that’s the case, Circle of the Shepherd feels like the next best bet. It has some great support options via the totems you can put down, and rather than becoming badass animals, you instead just get really good at summoning a fuck ton of them. It’s like Frumpkin, but ten of him. And they’re bears. (Honorable mention: If Circle of the Moon would feel like treading old territory then I’m certain Circle of Wildfire would too, but I’d bet my dice collection it would at least be tempting). 

Cleric (Unity Domain): Listen. The pure sap potential that would be at Mr. O’Brien’s fingertips with this subclass is incredible. The domain all about strengthening and protecting the bonds between friends and loved ones?? The domain with the Channel Divinity that can spread damage taken by one creature across the party however the cleric chooses to distribute it to lessen the blow to the individual??? The domain that used to be called the Love Domain???? I’m practically gagging on the soft moments and unspoken devotion conveyed through spellcasting already.

Fighter (Rune Knight/Psi Knight): Liam has yet to play a tank in a long-term campaign, and while I’m more enamored with the potential of the above classes, it would be novel to see him play a character with an actually respectable amount of hit points. However, I feel like if he was gonna commit to a straight frontliner, he’d probably want something a little more unique than a Champion or Battle Master (especially since he’s played those already for one-shots). Rune Knight has some fun options and built-in flavor, and with Psi Knight you can basically be a Jedi. Not bad options at all if you ask me.

Taliesin

Warlock (Fiend): Yeah, it might be expected, or Percy might have been too close to warlock anyway to feel like there’s new ground to cover, but hear me out. Both Percy (who, let’s face it, was a warlock multiclass in all but the actual mechanics) and Fjord were the classic reluctants. They got in over their heads without really knowing what was going on, and once they did they wanted out, cutting ties with their patrons and getting clear with only the scars remaining. I want to see Taliesin commit to a warlock in a way I imagine only he could manage to pull off. How fun would that balancing act be, to have a character that has no intentions of breaking their pact, who’s here for the powers, and is willing to work that delicate balancing act between keeping what he’s got and not letting his contract holder get the better of him? Give it to meeeeee.

Sorcerer (Psionic Soul): Psionic Soul has a bit of that eldritch flavor that vibes with Taliesin so much, with the added interest of introducing a brand new feature to 5E, the Psi Die (with this subclass, using them can do things like letting a sorcerer learn a spell they don’t already know for a few hours, allow you to cast spells without needing verbal, somatic, or material components, and can give you telepathy). Taking both Percy and Molly into account, it seems Tal likes to lean into those unique additional mechanics, and while Psi Die aren’t as risk-heavy as Gunslinger or Bloodhunter, they do add a layer of variability and unpredictability that seems to match his style.

Rogue (Swashbuckler): We only got a little bit of time with Molly, and so missed out on the opportunity to see Tal play a more cavalier character this time around. If he feels like leaning away from spells next time and back toward martial, I think a high-charisma, high-swinging swashbuckler from Tal would be a delight to watch.

Laura

Barbarian (Path of the Ancestral Guardian): Laura deserves to hit things, okay? Yes, spellcasting is great and comes in clutch frequently and Jester’s amazing, but you can tell Laura misses doing fat stacks of damage to the enemy in a single round. I personally think it would be amazing to watch her just cut loose and go full rage machine. As for the subclass, I’m not glued to the idea, but Ancestral Guardians are pretty kickass, have decent support capabilities for a barb without detracting from their DPS at all, and it doesn’t tread on any previous characters’ toes or their aesthetics.

Rogue (Scout/Soulknife): Laura deserves to play her favorite class at last, okay? She’s been class poached two campaigns in a row, and though that resulted in both Vex and Jester and I wouldn’t trade them for the world, Laura has earned first pick. Seeing as she already dipped into Assassin as Vex and Sam took Arcane Trickster, I could see Scout being a viable subclass choice. It’s in the classic sneaky vein, relatively simple in concept, but comes with features that grant easy-to-understand benefits that you can never turn your nose up at (boosts to movement, advantage on initiative, giving advantage against a target to everyone else in the party, etc.). If she’s looking for something a bit flashier, Soulknife has the benefit of retroactively dunking on Vax by taking the basic knife-rogue and making it better, with psionic knives that you can manifest with a thought, that can teleport you around Whisper style, and cranking up that stealth to ridiculous levels by just being able to turn invisible for ten minutes, no concentration or spell needed. The psionic die mechanics are a little funky of course, but I don’t imagine it’s any trickier than learning to manage all those cleric spells.

Monk (Way of the Open Hand): Between Beau just being super cool and her brief stint as Farriwen Breeze, monk wouldn’t be a surprising pick from Laura. An Open Hand monk might be the definitive version everyone knows, but you can’t deny it’s a solid subclass, and between previous overlap and the concepts of the other subclasses just not seeming to fit, I could see the classic being what she went with. But hey, it’s Laura Bailey. She could surprise us with Way of the Drunken Master or something.

Sam

Ranger (Monster Slayer): Let’s be real, I don’t think this would be his actual first pick for a Campaign 3 character, but the amount of shit-stirring he could achieve by making a character with the aim of pissing off Laura Bailey specifically would be hilarious (and since Matt isn’t completely opposed to UA and acknowledges that PHB ranger has a lot of issues, I wouldn’t be surprised if they went Revised Ranger this time).

Warlock (Genie): Actual first pick here, Pact of the Genie Warlock is confirmed by now, and the potential of a warlock in the hands of Sam Riegel is pretty vast (for some reason I’m imagining he would go the ‘spoiled sugar baby’ route). The subclass doesn’t matter as much, but the Genie one is nice in that, depending on the type of genie patron you pick, you can get a wide variety of extra spells, you get a container like a classic lamp or lantern that you can bamf into for short rests, and you get a limited Wish ability for your capstone, all features I feel like would especially appeal to Sam.

Barbarian (Path of the Wild Soul): I want to see Sam play a fairy barbarian. ‘Nough said.

Ashley

Fighter (Eldritch/Echo Knight): Ashley really seems to vibe with the crushing power of martial classes (she does love her brutal kill descriptions), so I could see her sticking with it rather than going back to full caster. However, I do see her picking one of the magical subclasses for some variety after Yasha. Eldritch Knight is a classic and reasonably easy to manage, but tbh I’d LOVE for it to be Echo Knight. And think, if my wishful thinking came true, with Ashley picking an Echo Knight and Marisha playing a Graviturgist wizard, they could link up their backstories and be a traveling Kryn battle duo that left their homeland behind to explore the world!

Sorcerer (Draconic): If she does want to go back to full-time casting, Sorcerer doesn’t require near as much bookkeeping as a cleric, druid, or wizard while still having decent variety, and the Draconic subclass is a bit beefier than the other subclasses. Also, it would be the third campaign in a row where Ashley Johnson’s character eventually got wings, soooo...

And tbh I have no idea what a third pick might be for Ashley, so I’m just gonna throw a dart or two at the board and say either College of Whispers Bard or Way of Mercy Monk *Shrug* We can only wait and see!

[prerodinu]

[apiratewhopines]

Killian, Persuaded

Chapter Eight — Goblins

Summary: In which our hero cools his heels

Chapter Eight on AO3

“I see trouble on the way”

-Bad Moon Rising, Creedence Clearwater Revival

“Wear your leather jacket, Uncle Killian.”

“Aster, darling, I love that you take such an eager, albeit unvaried, interest in my wardrobe but I thought I would try to look a bit more serious and responsible tonight. This is my first community event and I want to represent the family well.”

“It’s an elementary school dance, Killian. You could probably wear your pajamas and fit in perfectly fine with the other chaperones. They’re going to be sleep-deprived parents who couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to get out of it,” Liam commented absentmindedly as he attempted to pull Aster’s uncooperative hair into a high ponytail. Under his breath, he added, “How the devil does your mother get it to stay put?”

“You have to stick the pins in, Dad,” Aster explained patiently as if she were talking to one of the twins instead of the man who helped bring her into the world. “Mom can do it when she gets home.”

“No, I’ve got this.” It was clear to both Killian and Aster he didn’t have it but neither wanted to be the one to break the bad news. Instead they watched in fascinated silence as Liam continued to wrap the holder over and over again until finally he stretched it too far causing it to snap without warning and fly to the other side of the room.

Never had Killian felt more in tune with an inanimate object.

“Well…perhaps a braid. I’m better at those, it’s just like tying rope.”

Somehow he felt like he should intercede before Aster’s hair ended up looking like a monkey fist knot. “Move over, Liam. Let me try before you rip it all out.”

Ignoring the grumbling sounds his brother made as he vacated the space directly behind his daughter, he met Aster’s gaze in the mirror and grinned at the nervous way she eyed him. While she was usually the curious one of the garden, full of ideas and questions and eager to try new things, her face was pulled into a serious expression much too glum for a first grader about to attend a dance full of her friends. Trying to distract her as he studied her mess of hair with something akin to anxiety, he asked, “Why do you have a dog on your skirt?”

“Because that’s what you wear to a sock hop. Haven’t you seen any movies?”

“I’ve seen some in my day but never one with dog skirts,” he retorted playfully. Having decided showing fear would only make the situation worse, he pulled her hair back in two fistfuls and started taming it into one semi-smooth ponytail. While he would never admit it, it was harder than it looked. Like a doctor in surgery, he carefully anchored the hair with one hand and extended the palm of his other out before demanding, “Band.”

Liam looked on critically but didn’t hesitate to provide the needed equipment for this dicey operation. The room was so quiet you could have heard one of the dozens of Bobby pins currently waiting in reserve drop. He carefully twisted the band in place while moving the mass further up Aster’s head. When he reached the appropriate height, she gave a little nod of satisfaction. Unfortunately, the motion nearly killed the entire thing. They both froze and Killian spoke softly as if the vibration of the words in the air would bring failure. “Pins. Quick.”

Liam was a man used to performing under pressure and it showed. Before he could even finish asking, the pins were in his hand. As if diffusing a bomb, the Jones brothers moved with exaggerated care to place six pins through the band and then carefully back away with bated breath. When the coiffure didn’t immediately collapse, Killian shared a triumphant smile with his brother.

Aster seemed less impressed. “There are bumps.”

“Then it looks like we’re here just in time,” Elsa announced from the doorway, her expression so amused it made him wonder how long she had been there. And she was not alone, standing next to her was Emma.

Only not Emma as he had ever seen her before. She had always been a bold woman and it typically translated into her clothing as well. Her palette veered more toward black and white with dramatic pops of red. Fabrics tended to be denim, wool, and leather. Her no-nonsense, forget the frills approach only enhanced her natural beauty.

However, that’s not to say he couldn’t appreciate a different aesthetic if she wanted to change things up a bit.

Now she stood before him a vision in a pale pink dress falling around her curves like it had been made only for her. The strappy sandals added a couple of inches to her height, an impractical choice for the cold evening but one he appreciated when he realized they nearly stood eye to eye. Her ponytail, complete with a gentle poof at the top, made him realize why Aster was so disappointed with hers. For the first time in his life, he was speechless.

“Emma, you look…”

“I know,” she teased, her eyes dancing with laughter. Moving to stand next to him, she smiled at Aster. “Not bad for a first attempt but I think your dad and uncle should keep Henry company downstairs while we work our magic.”

Unwilling to leave her side, though it occurred to him he was still in his pajamas from an afternoon lounging on the sofa and learning all about paternity tests from his favorite show, he frantically searched for a reason to stay. “But how will I learn if I don’t practice?”

“I guess you will have to rely on your other charms to impress the girls because we don’t have time for a lesson,” she replied, carefully pulling out pins in an effort not to hurt his niece. “Chaperones have to be there early so we only have a few minutes.”

“We? Are you volunteering too?” Suddenly he realized there were benefits to selflessness. Or at least perks to being cowed by authority in the form of one bloodcurdling school administrator.

Meeting his gaze in the mirror, she explained, “Henry said everyone else turned you down. I can only be there for the first half but I thought I owed you one for the birthday present.”

“Emma, it was a gift. No need to repay me.”

“Fine, you’re right. Let’s just say you’re trying so I’m going to try too.”

Liam cleared his throat and it broke them out of their conversation. He became aware they were being observed by three interested Joneses. Aster was beaming with happiness, a distinct change from the serious expression of a moment ago. Liam and Elsa were harder to figure out but he was sure he would face an inquisition later from that quarter.

“Right. Guess I better get ready,” he said awkwardly, still loath to leave but unable to stand the scrutiny one second longer. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Sure.” She turned away with a small grin but before he could make it out of the door she added, “And Aster is right. You should definitely wear the leather jacket.”

—

It appeared as though Emma was the pied piper of chaperones. While his brother and sister-in-law had turned him down flat, once they learned Emma signed on, all of the sudden he had an entourage of adults to help him man the entrances to the sock hop. With a quick phone call to a teenager who lived down the street, the twins were happily settled for the night and they joined the group with wide smiles.

He’d like to think it was because they reconsidered and realized they wouldn’t only be helping him out but also the community by supporting their daughters’ school fundraiser. The truth was they probably changed their minds because they wanted to see him make a fool of himself over Emma.

He couldn’t even blame them really. He knew the lovesick image he presented, his eyes following her around the room as she talked with children and adults alike. Perhaps this would be his penance for breaking her heart, to be stuck on the sidelines of her life, a spectator who could only cheer her successes from a distance and wince at her setbacks without being the shoulder she wanted to lean on.

It seemed a fitting punishment.

The dance was well underway. The school gymnasium decorated with black and orange streamers and cutouts of jack o’lanterns and friendly black cats pasted to every flat surface less than five feet tall. The disco ball hanging from the scoreboard provided a swirling kaleidoscope of lights that bounced across the empty floor.

“I didn’t realize sock hop was a literal reference to lack of footwear. Furthermore, I thought there would be more dancing,” he murmured to Elsa. Having never been to a school dance, although he had been to his fair share of parties since his own school days, he was nevertheless under the impression there would be movement of some kind.

“They’re children, Killian. I’m pretty sure most of them still think they can catch cooties from each other,” she replied, sipping on the fruit punch Mrs. Nolan was handing out at the refreshment table.

Since he wasn’t entirely sure what his duties as chaperone entailed, he stayed off to the side with his family observing the scene with morbid fascination. There were a fair number of children there, mostly from the younger grades although Henry was playing rock-paper-scissors with a few boys from his class in one of the far corners of the room. He didn’t think it was arrogant to acknowledge his nieces were not only the cutest kids there but also the best dressed. Their pink dog skirts—poodle skirts as Iris had corrected him on the walk over—and matching hair ribbons making them easy to pick out in the crowd.

He didn’t miss the way Aster was surrounded by friends the second they walked in or how Iris settled against a wall and wore an expression of resigned boredom. He was about to go keep her company when Principal Mills and Emma joined them.

“No one is dancing, Mr. Jones,” the principal told him critically.

“I noticed.”

“What do you intend to do about it?”

He assumed by her tone that ‘nothing’ was an unacceptable response. Honestly, the woman was terrifying. He needed to figure out a way to counterbalance the murderous rage she had in droves for his own safety. Moved by some devil he didn’t understand, he offered, “I suppose I could ask you to dance to start things off. I believe you are a big fan of leading by example, are you not?”

Satisfied at the shocked look on her face, he tried not to be impressed at how quickly she recovered her wits. “I’m a bigger fan of not having my toes smashed. Find a partner and get these kids on the dance floor.”

She walked away without another word. He was relieved she took a position next to Mrs. Nolan on the other side of the room. He was going to have to do something about her. She might be getting too used to ordering him around. With a sigh, he turned to Liam and half-jokingly asked, “Brother, may I have this dance?”

“Bugger off, Killian.”

Winking at Elsa, he smiled at his brother’s discomfort. Liam was born a wallflower. Truly, he had an almost pathological fear of dancing when they were younger. Given his reaction now, he guessed that hadn’t changed. With a roll of his eyes, he turned to Emma. He knew he didn’t stand a chance but carried on anyway. “Swan, I’ve been shot down twice already. Please say you’ll join me on the dance floor so I will survive the wrath of Principal Mills. I would hate to think of her going home tonight and putting some kind of hex on me.”

Unsuccessfully trying to smother a laugh, Emma placed her hand in his outstretched one and said, “What the hell. I’m going to have to leave in a minute anyway.”

Delighted at her acceptance, he led her to the front of the room. Some travesty of a pop song played through speakers that had seen better days but when he pulled her into his arms, none of that mattered. It was like they were transported back in time to a night ten years ago when they danced until the wee small hours of the morning. The way she felt in his embrace was exactly the same, perhaps even slightly better because he was mature enough to know what a gift it was to have the opportunity to do this again. “Where are you scampering off to after your shift?”

“Oh, um, I have a date with Walsh. It’s our one year anniversary.”

It was all he could do not to falter in his steps. His jaw clenched tightly and he searched his mind for something to say. Realizing there weren’t any words to accurately convey his emotions at the moment, and even if he was fortunate enough to find them he had no right to say them, he settled for twirling her expertly and was rewarded with a smattering of applause from Aster and her friends. “Do you need me to watch Henry tonight?”

“No, thank you. Walsh said we’d have to make it an early one because he has a meeting tomorrow morning. I’ll be home before the dance is over.”

Their eyes met then and held. The flickering light of the disco ball illuminated her face and made her dress glow white. He wondered what kind of relationship Walsh the Wanker was playing at. An anniversary celebration finished by 9:30 didn’t seem like the stuff futures were built on, not that he should complain. He simply felt like she deserved better and even if he couldn’t be the one to give it her, he still wanted her to have it. “Are you happy, Emma?”

Stopping in her tracks, she blinked uncomprehendingly and ended their extended gaze. “What? Why are you asking me that?”

Glancing around to see if anyone noticed their pause, he gathered her in his arms more tightly and started to move her around the dance floor again. In the back of his mind, he registered several dozen children were dancing now, if you wanted to call the jumping and random body contortions dancing, separated into boy and girl groups here and there. Laughing at himself, he confessed, “I’m not sure but I want to know all the same.”

“Let’s just dance,” she begged, her eyes firmly shut and her hand resting softly on his shoulder.

“As you wish.”

The song came to an end and was replaced by a slower ballad while they were talking. Knowing he upset her somehow, he frantically tried to think of a way to mend what he had broken before their time together was over. Not caring about tempo or rhythm, he twirled her again, much to the delight of the gaggle of girls who had drifted closer to them, and dipped her playfully. Winking at her, he explained, “Have to give them something to aspire to in their old age.”

She was grinning up at him but there was sadness in her eyes. Neither one noticed the man approach until his shadow fell over Emma’s face. Within seconds, he tapped Killian on the shoulder and asked, “May I cut in?”

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he righted Emma and used every ounce of his strength to step away. Although his words were directed at Walsh, his heated stare never left her face. “Of course. I need to get back to work anyway. Have a lovely evening.”

Walking away when every fiber of his being wanted to wrap her in his arms and continue dancing, he rejoined Liam and Elsa. Most of the kids had joined in the fun now so he trusted Principal Mills would leave him the hell alone for the rest of the night.

“I thought your father forbid you both from dancing,” Elsa remarked when it was clear he had no intention of talking about what happened. She was studying his face to see if he was okay. He appreciated the concern but could have done without the careful examination when he thought his jaw might break from tension.

“You were misinformed. Liam was the only one subject to that decree.”

“Why?”

“Because it brought shame on the family, made dogs whine and angels weep,” he joked. “He’s an awful dancer. Let me know if your disappointment is too much to bear. I’ll happily run away with you.”

“I’m standing right here,” Liam said gruffly, watching Walsh awkwardly sway with Emma in some inexperienced version of a waltz.

Surely the man must have one redeeming quality buried deep within him. Someone as special as Emma wouldn’t suffer fools and yet Killian couldn’t fathom what Walsh brought to the table. Well, other than an actual end table of which Emma seemed particularly fond.

“Oh.”

Elsa’s quiet exclamation caught his attention and he followed the direction of her gaze back out to the dance floor. There, in the middle of an elementary school gymnasium, Walsh was down on one knee. They were much too far away and the horrible sound system blaring too loudly to know what was being said but the singular position and the massive rock glittering in the dizzying light told the story just as well.

“Bad form,” Liam commented.

“He might as well have peed on her leg,” Elsa agreed heatedly. “It’s like he doesn’t know her at all.”

Killian barely heard them over the thundering of blood in his ears. His vision telescoped on the pair as if there was a spotlight pointed directly at them. Walsh’s smile began to falter as the seconds stretched out without an answer to one of the most important questions a man will ask in his lifetime. Luckily, the students seemed oblivious to what was happening in front of them having finally gotten in the spirit of the dance.

It was Emma’s expression he couldn’t decipher. She had yet to say anything, of that much he was certain due to Walsh’s growing distress. He watched as she stepped back. Then turned and rushed out of the gym. Within seconds, Walsh was up and following her.

He made to move as well, his own body tense with he need to get to her but Liam reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Steady on, little brother. She doesn’t need your help making this decision.”

His mouth set in a grim line, he turned to see them both watching him with something like pity in their eyes. Feeling a wave of helplessness wash over him unlike anything he ever felt before, he said, “What if she makes the wrong one?”

“Have some faith. You’re worth ten of Walsh.”

Liam’s attempt to bolster him did little to quell the fear growing in his heart. She couldn’t tie herself to that man. Walsh was all wrong for her. Talk about wasted years and endless torment. Emma’s light would fade under her misplaced loyalty until she was a shadow of what she could be. “But I haven’t told her anything yet. She doesn’t know she has options.”

With a snort, Liam said not unkindly, “Killian, the whole town knows she has options. You aren’t exactly subtle. I’m sure that’s what led to this rather dramatic and completely out of character proposal.”

“You’re right. Whether he knew it or not, Walsh was sending a signal,” Elsa said sagely, “probably brought on by all the yearning looks. They’re hard to miss.”

“Or the way Killian lights up like a bloody Christmas tree when she walks in a room,” Liam offered helpfully. “Que sera, sera little brother. Emma’s a smart woman. In the meantime, why don’t you ask Iris to dance?”

“Why don’t you ask her, Liam? She’s your mini-me,” he muttered in reply. He wasn’t averse to dancing with his oldest niece but he was getting tired of everyone barking orders at him. He didn’t get out from under his father’s thumb to have it replaced by his brother’s. Or the principal’s or any other random citizen of Storybrooke either for that matter.

“Because if I do it, it will look like no one but her father wants to dance with her. And lord knows, we’d probably make a scene if I tried. You’re the belle of this ball so use your powers for good. It’s not easy constantly being upstaged by a younger, more popular sibling.”

Shocked out of his misery, Killian surveyed his brother’s rueful smile out of the corner of his eye. He wondered if Liam was referring to Iris and Aster or alluding to them. As usual, he played the part of victim, only thinking of how he was left behind and cut off by his brother. It never occurred to him Liam may have harbored negative emotions or disappointments about their relationship. And it certainly never dawned on him his childhood hero felt eclipsed by him.

Searching the room for his nieces, he saw Aster was in the middle of a large group of kids and dancing like no one was watching. That’s the thing about free spirits, people were drawn to them because they didn’t care if anyone approved. Iris had drifted to one of the chairs pushed against the raised platform of the stage. Her little face bravely soldiering through the night.

Forgetting Emma and Walsh—who was he kidding, it was more like pushing them out of the forefront of his mind where they would return to haunt him later—he saluted his brother and Elsa. “If you insist. Uncle Killian to the rescue.”

Doggedly making his way through the crowd, he reached Iris quickly. The grateful look she gave him was perhaps the single most precious gift he had ever received. “Come along, my little flower. Let’s show them how it’s done.”

[kendelias]

oc fashion boards: matilda halliwell (insp)

KEY FASHION COMPONENTS:

nose ring - matilda’s nose ring is a small crescent moon attached to a ring that pierces her septum. it is both a nod to her love of the dark and all things gothic and spooky, and a symbol of her and liam’s moon and sun dynamic. while he is the light that guides her, she reflects the goodness within him.

platform boots - matilda is already pretty tall, at 5′7″, so when she puts on platform boots, it’s a sign of power and dominance. she wears these in scenes where she is feeling particularly confident, such as when she saves the parents in season three, or when she meets liam in season four!

lipstick - matilda’s lipstick is an iconic staple of her wardrobe. she is rarely seen without it - usually black, though sometimes red, purple, or other odd colors. though her makeup in general is usually pretty important, and oftentimes reflects her mood, her lipstick is what stands out the most and is an indicator of her bold personality.

colors - though matilda doesn’t gravitate towards many colors, the ones she does find most appealing are purple and red. these are indicators of matilda’s personality; red indicates passion and romantic love. matilda is very passionate about her witchcraft and her loved ones, and she finds romantic love twice throughout the show. meanwhile, purple is an indication of mystery and nobility. matilda’s powers are certainly mysterious, garnering much attention and speculation until her backstory is finally revealed, and she is regal in the way that she speaks and carries herself.

earrings - though never explicitly pointed out, matilda’s earrings are often fun little easter eggs - for example, she is wearing tarot earrings of the lovers on the day she meets liam. however, her most often seen pair is the world tarot card, which represents matilda’s power and role as a backbone of the show.

ALWAYS TAG LIST - @bravelittleflower​ @richitozier​ @julianblackthcrns​ @foxesandmagic​ @anotherunreadblog​ @ochub​ @queen-of-edolas​ @loveallthatjazz​ @fiercefray​ @delicateblackrose​ @eddysocs​ @ocappreciationtag​ @notanannoyingfangirl​  (want to be added? just shoot me an ask!)

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

🌊 Tues 18 Feb 🏅

Harry played a heartwrenchingly beautiful version of Falling barefoot in a pool of water at the Brits, a whole watery scape with a piano waterfall, then got drunk and crawled around on the floor! She has the range, darlings, never doubt it. He wore THREE stellar outfits, a suit and lavender jumper and pearls plus Mary Janes, head to bare toes in white lace with lace gloves, and bright yellow with purple ruffles like a little fashion clown?! Rounded out by the lavender nails, perfect with all three. Oh plus his sparkly jumpsuit showed up again in the opening skit (along with Harry's flawless comedic face acting so bless) so FOUR looks! Harry Lambert said "We have...been teasing elements of the tour wardrobe...and one of tonight’s looks is a taste of things to come"; it's hard not to suspect he means the lace one, which is another rendition of the blouse and braces outfit we've seen him performing in the whole Fine Line era but hey who knows.

Then, done being serious and making us all Cry, Harry was like TIME TO GET TIPSY, and I think that really was a wine glass full of tequila he was drinking so way to get it done babe, he got told to sit down and stop wandering around to all the tables chatting and stealing snacks, got wine spilled all over him (RIP yellow suit), was like to hell with it my suit's trashed anyway and was then seen crawling about to see everyone but he was still in good shape for the after-party so I'd say it was just silliness. He upstaged most of the attendees with his hijinks and costume changes but did not, sadly, win in his nominated categories tonight.

Niall didn't wear vivid yellow but his blue velvet suit and unbuttoned shirt were not boring, he got up there and presented an award with his furry chest just fully right out (and pressed it up against award winner Lewis in a very sweet and sincere looking celebratory hug.) He said he was there to support "his boys" but he meant Harry and Lewis not "the boys" to mild dismay but mostly everyone just enjoyed him saying nice things about Harry's album. He did the full red carpet chat tour and mentioned that he would be getting very drunk and hanging out with friends later, and, like the reliable guy he is, he was most recently seen getting started on just that.

And 1D sisters were on fire today! Not like in an appropriating AAV way but like, literal sisters: Gemma was Harry's date (and on his other side was Jenny of Canyon Moon fame, aka Kid Harpoon's wife) in her own stunning suit and gave us reaction faces to die for, and Ruth Payne showed up on Twitter to spill some TRUTH ("I bet the band category are glad that 1D aren’t together still") and got chatting while she was there. "This is the darkest place I've seen in the past in regards to comments about my brother and everyday it makes me worry if he's strong enough to take that much negativity in public daily" she said, and in answer to a fan who replied that some can and do support Harry, Niall, Louis and Liam, Ruth added "and Zayn," bless.

Everyone is very sad that Louis didn't show up to be amongst his industry peers and obviously anytime there's less Louis at an event I'm unhappy too but I will point out that it was within the last month that he straight up told us he wasn't planning on doing any red carpet events because he didn't like them and didn't want to, so like. I'm not exactly shocked.

BUT THAT'S NOT ALL THERE'S STILL SO MUCH MORE HONTENT jeez Harry:

The tabloids reported that Harry was held up at knifepoint on Valentine's Day which may or may not be true, all that's actually known is that a guy in his age category was and it was near Erskine House, and on the one hand I don't want to wish that on some unknown person but also gosh I hope that didn't happen to Harry, what a terrible week. He wore a black ribbon with his red carpet outfit presumably for Caroline, Eroda tweeted one (1) thing out of all the Harry things today, a picture of Harry's baby doll strappy shoe clad feet, he was seen via potato cam hugging both Nick Grimshaw (who he reportedly spent some friendly time with as well) and Niall, and the full Vanity Fair behind the album interview videos are up and it's just Harry getting to talk and ramble for ages so that's lovely and there's an interview out with Kid Harpoon also about making Fine Line, so many things are said! But there's no room to cover them! Oh well!

[jovialyouthmusic]

Proposal

A Royal Romance AU Fanfic featuring Bastien Lykel 

I’m so excited to reveal the fanart I commissioned from the talented @jadequarze​ for this two piece fic. It follows on from ‘Kiss from a Rose’  (link leads to the first of three chapters) and you might also like to read Changes, a drabble that links the two sequences together. Or you could just read this as a little bit of fluff. 

Word Count 3221

A/N The story starts with a flashback to Liam’s social season. Going back to the present (after the social season and Anton and the Sons of the Earth are no longer on the scene) Sophia has told Bastien that she’s received a job offer from Edinburgh University, and he plans to leave the Guard and go with her.

Accompanying song is ‘I Only Have Eyes for You’ by Simon Garfunkel

Proposal

Bastien heard Sophia coming along the corridor to their suite at Ramsford. The Beaumont Bash was underway and he was hard put to it to take this time out – a stolen moment for his goddess. He melted back into the shadows as she appeared and entered their room, closing the door behind her. He pictured her catching sight of the garment bag hanging on the wardrobe door and reading the note he had written

‘To my goddess

Should you decide to go to the ball, you deserve to look the part.

Wear this for me, and I will see you in the crowd, though you always draw my eye wherever you are.’

He counted out a minute to allow her to open it and discover the contents and knocked at the door, holding the corsage in his hand. As Sophia answered, the dress, a scarlet sheath cut to hug the figure and flare out from the upper thighs, sparkling with sequins hung behind her. She pulled him in and threw her arms around him

‘Oh Bas, it’s perfect’ she breathed ‘How did you know?’ He gestured to himself

‘You keep forgetting, I know everything, including the garment that will draw everyone’s eyes and make you the talk of the ball’

‘Bas, I’m not a duchess or a lady or a princess – I can’t wear this…’

‘You are my goddess, and yes you can. No one will dare touch you with me as your protector, I stake my claim – if that’s agreeable to you’ Sophia stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

‘Of course it is, I’m honoured - and you know you’re mine too, anyone makes eyes at you and they’ll regret it.’ Her eyes flashed with passion, then she took a deep breath and dismissed it from her mind, smiling sweetly again ‘Have you come to help me put the dress on?’

‘Yes, I have a half hour break and there’s something very special I want to do’

‘In this dress?’ she said, opening her eyes in mock surprise.

‘Not that, my goddess’ he smiled ‘I won’t get a chance to dance with you, so I have the perfect song lined up. Put it on, and we can have our own private moment’ Sophia stripped, selecting a bra that would support her without showing, and carefully pulled the dress on. She stood in front of the mirror for Bastien to zip it up, his lips lingering near the nape of her neck, her scent dizzying him. She took the corsage and strapped it high up on her upper arm, checking in the mirror that all was correct. She swiftly applied a little make up and selected a pair of strappy silver shoes. Bastien set up a speaker and flipped though his phone, waiting patiently as she selected a diamante necklace and matching earrings.

Finally she turned to him and he bowed

‘Perfect timing my goddess. Would you do me the pleasure?’ he finally touched his phone and music started to fill the room. He had chosen ‘I only have eyes for you’, and Sophia smiled happily as he took her hand and waist and they started to sway.

‘My love must be a kind of blind love - I can’t see anyone but you’

He gazed at her, smiling, and she sighed, melting into him, swaying and drawing closer

‘Are the stars out tonight? I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright ‘Cause I only have eyes for you, dear The moon may be high But I can’t see a thing in the sky 'Cause I only have eyes for you.’

‘Sophia, if I wasn’t working, I would spend the whole evening by your side. You are the most beautiful woman in the building and I want to show you off’ he said softly as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

‘I don’t know if we’re in a garden Or on a crowded avenue You are here, so am I Maybe millions of people go by But they all disappear from view And I only have eyes for you’

The music slowed and stopped, and they held each other for a little longer….

That was the moment, he realised – the moment he knew he wanted her to remain in his life, the moment he had a faint reckoning that he could allow himself a life outside his job – a partner, a wife – a family.

So he planned his proposal after their trip to Edinburgh on Valentines’ Day. He had wanted to propose then, but he was working and could not rely on having time allotted to such an important task. So now he mused, going over his options for the perfect opportunity.

------

Bastien gazed at Sophia over the dinner table. Music played in the background – a string quartet on a dais at the side of the restaurant. Rainbows of light danced across her face from the crystal chandelier overhead, and there was the muted sound of the conversation of the other diners around them. She sipped at the wine as the waiter cleared away the empty plates, then put her glass down as Bastien smiled fondly.

‘That was amazing’ she sighed, patting her stomach ‘I always wanted to try lobster thermidor – it’s a bit old fashioned but I’m glad I tried it.’

‘I hope you left room for dessert’ he said ‘They do an amazing dark chocolate and champagne torte with raspberry ganache’ She looked thoughtful

‘I’m not sure – but it sounds as if you’d like to try it, so let’s share’ She picked up her handbag ‘I’ll just go to the bathroom, you can order while I’m gone’

‘Of course, theá mou. Hurry back’ Bastien raised a finger to the waiter who hovered a little way away from the table.

‘We’ll have the special – the dark chocolate torte to share, please’ he said loudly, and as she walked away, added quietly ‘Tell chef which table it’s for – you know, the really special one’

‘Of course Sir – I’ll give the signal to the band too’

‘Yes, that would be wonderful’ Bastien smiled to himself, but felt the butterflies in his stomach too as he waited for Sophia to return. Before long she was sitting opposite him again, and the waiter sprang into action. The band stopped playing and waited for their cue to restart.

‘Sir, Madam’ he said, and Bastien indicated that the plate should go to Sophia.

‘Oh this looks amazing’ she said ‘Shall I be that person who photographs their food?’

‘If you like’ he smiled indulgently, ready to move from his seat when she discovered the ring in the first bite of the dessert….

 No, wait – what if she didn’t find it straight away? What if she bit into it and chipped a tooth – or choked? What if the torte went to the wrong table? That would be a disastrous marriage proposal. Sitting at his desk, Bastien put a line through the first line of his notes

Dessert at La Choiserie

He tapped his teeth with his pen and thought again, daydreaming about the next possible scenario for his proposal

------

‘Bas, my feet are aching – are we nearly at the top?’ Sophia asked as they trudged up the rocky path toward the summit of the highest point of the ridge that overlooked the capital. They would stay at the lodge further down and he would persuade her to take a walk instead of staying inside all day.

‘Nearly there, Sophia. I promise you the view from the top is worth it. This range isn’t as high as the mountains in Lythikos, but you can see them from the top. It’s a lot warmer here and there’s no risk of an avalanche.’ He carried on climbing, glad of the walking poles he had brought. Sophia had just the one stick, and they were surprisingly well matched in stride and speed for most of the time.

At last they were at the top, breathless and elated from the climb.

‘Oh Bas, you were right’ she breathed ‘It’s beautiful’ He smiled, putting his rucksack down and feeling in his anorak pocket for the velvet box, dropping to one knee on the stony ground…

 No, wait - what it if rained or was stormy? Was he sure he could still climb that hill with his injured thigh? What if he couldn’t persuade her to go for that walk? He crossed out that scenario too.

Summit of Duchy Ridge

------

His goddess looked radiant sitting in the hot tub at the lodge on the ridge. The crescent moon shone and the inky black sky twinkled with stars. He slipped into the water with her and she moved across to sit next to him as the water gently swirled and hugged his arm to her soft breasts.

‘Are you ready for the bubbles?’ she asked

‘If you are, theá mou’ She reached over to the control and before long the jets were emitting streams of bubble through the water. He positioned himself so that it massaged his thigh and Sophia laughed – a low melodious sound that always pleased him.

‘It’s like being in a champagne glass’ she said ‘only warm, of course.’

‘There’s a bottle chilling right now’ he said ‘we can have it after this cycle - I’ll get it’

‘Okay’ she sighed ‘I don’t want to get out of this – ever. I think this is my new favourite best place’

‘I’m happy wherever you are – my favourite place is next to you’

‘Bas, you are so romantic’ she sighed ‘what did I do to deserve you?’ They sat in companionable silence as the water swirled and bubbled. When it stopped, Bastien got out, looking over at his lover, who was lying back, her eyes half closed in bliss. He hoped to bring that expression to her face when they got out and went to the bedroom, he reminded himself – but first…

‘Here you are, theá mou’ He climbed into the tub and reached back for the glass of champagne, the ring at the bottom of her glass and waited for her to notice

 Well, that’s not a bad idea – but there is the risk that she might not notice the ring and choke. Bastien sighed and this time put a question mark next to it

Hot tub champagne glass

------

‘Come on in Sophia – the water’s lovely!’ Bastien called as he waded out into the cool azure water

‘I’ve only just put sunscreen on!’ she called out from the shore.

‘We can swim out to the grotto, theá mou’ He saw her perk up, remembering the time they had swum out to the secret place and made love naked on the water smoothed rocky ledge there. She was wading in eagerly in a trice, and he smiled, turning away, making smooth long strokes through the clear water.

When they got to the submerged entrance to the cave they held hands and ducked under to clear the rocky arch and gain the cave within. As before, the blue grey stone sparkled with reflections from the ray of sun coming from a blowhole up in the roof. They floated in the water, and she turned to face him, bringing her arms around him for a kiss. They slowly sank under the surface until they had to let go and strike for the surface, gasping and laughing. Sophia swam to the rocky shelf, sinuous like a mermaid, and he followed. She sat on the edge looking down at him, and he trod water in front of her.

Playfully she spread her legs open a little and drew him toward her with her feet. That gave him the opportunity to reach into his swim shorts for the little pouch containing the ring…

 No, wait – what if he dropped the ring and had to search for it on the deep rocky bottom? Maybe he should visit the cave the day before and hide the ring there? No – what if a freak wave washed it away? That wouldn’t do. He crossed it out

Portaviera grotto

 -----

They strolled hand in hand through the grounds of Applewood Manor, as well known for its rose garden as for its apple orchard. Her led her around the well tended beds, surrounded by neatly clipped box hedges. He told her the name and origin of every bloom, from white through a delicate blush pink, to peach, to magenta, to blood red.

‘I know you prefer to see flowers growing rather than in a bouquet’ he smiled ‘So I thought you’d enjoy this.’ He reached a bush at the centre of one of the beds and showed her a scarlet rose, the velvet petals giving off a heady scent.

‘Oh this one is beautiful’ she breathed.

‘I’m pleased you like it, it’s a new cultivar’ She leaned close to inhale the perfume, her blonde hair swinging forward and contrasting with the petals.

‘It smells divine - what is it called?’ she asked. He felt for the box in his pocket.

‘The name is as beautiful as the bloom.’ he smiled as he dropped to one knee ‘It’s called Sophia’

 No, there wasn’t enough time to arrange the growing of a new flower, he wanted to ask her soon, he decided. Again he struck his pen through the words

Applewood Rose Garden and thought again. He needed at least one more scenario – the perfect one…

------

They walked though yet another garden, this time at Ramsford. Maxwell was strangely absent and they made their way down to the aviary where the peacocks were housed.

‘What is it with Maxwell and peacocks?’ she asked, laughing as they stood by the pens. The birds eyed them curiously, looking to see if they had any tidbits.

‘I’m really not sure, despite knowing him for a large portion of his life’ Bastien replied ‘You know that the animal on their family crest is actually a squid?’

‘Oh, that’s why he wears the squid tie – and that odd suit of his’ She mused.

This time when he reached into his pocket it was for an apple, which the alpha peacock was particularly fond of. They came to his enclosure – he was kept apart from the others to preserve his plumage, as he was prone to fighting and although he was at the top of the pecking order, that didn’t stop younger males from trying to best him. Bastien was not fond of the creature, but he was determined he would play a part in his proposal, as he was a magnificent specimen. He was happy to see it wasn’t roaming the grounds.

‘This’ he said, waving the apple in the air enticingly for the creature ‘Is Betsy’. It stepped forward, its beady eye on the tempting fruit.

‘Oh’ said Sophia ‘But correct me if I’m wrong – Betsy is a peacock, not a peahen’ she indicated the long train of feathers trailing behind the bird. Bastien sighed heavily

‘Once again I have no idea why he named him Betsy. That young man has a very – unique – outlook on life’ Sophia frowned and looked closer at the bird

‘He’s got something tied around his neck – what is it?’

------

Bastien snapped back to reality. That blasted bird would NOT cooperate. He shuddered – pictures of the creature chasing him once he got out of his enclosure for him to retrieve the ring ran through his head. A vivid memory of the pain of Betsy pecking him somewhere very delicate made him sweat – and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t tolerate having the ring box tied around his neck – he wouldn’t be surprised if the damn bird found a way to open the box and either swallow or lose the ring.

No, that was his WORST idea yet. He sighed and got up to walk to the window and look out over the courtyard. He saw Lewis make his way over to the staff wing for the start of his shift, and he realised it was time to eat. He called one of the younger guards in.

‘Get cook to send some sandwiches in’ he said ‘and ask Lewis to come to my office.’ He thought for a moment ‘Tell cook to send enough for two’

It wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door, and Lewis put his head round the door

‘Sir’ he said

‘Come in Lewis, we have something to discuss’ Bastien motioned to him and Lewis sat on the other side of the desk. He steepled his fingers together ‘How are you getting on, my friend? Work wise, that is?’

‘Well, you tell me, sir’ he answered. ‘You’ve evaluated me, I take it’

‘Yes, of course – but do you feel you’ve performed well? Do you enjoy your work?’

‘I do feel a certain pride in my work sir, and I always strive for the excellence you’ve exhibited’

‘I’ve made mistakes, son’ Bastien pointed out ‘It wasn’t an easy job under Constantine, and things certainly didn’t get any better until we detained Severus. I hope that I’m passing over a tight ship now, but you should never let your guard down.’

‘Passing over, Sir?’ Lewis asked ‘Does this mean…?’

‘I’ll be handing in my notice very soon’ he said ‘I can’t tell you all of my plans as yet, but I’ll be moving put of the Palace completely.’

‘You’ll be sorely missed, Sir’ he replied

‘That’s as maybe’ he said. There was a knock at the door and one of the house staff entered with a covered tray and set it down on the desk, taking the cover off and leaving the room. There was a selection of sandwiches and salad. ‘Please, help yourself’ Bastien said, and the two men chose and began to eat.

‘So, there’s one thing I’d like to ask your advice on’ Bastien said

‘My advice?’ Lewis looked a little surprised

‘You’ve been married four years now, haven’t you?’ His junior nodded at the question. Bastien took a napkin and wiped his mouth

‘Can I ask how you proposed?’

‘Oh – I – well, it’s a funny story’ Lewis shifted in his chair

‘I’m eager to hear it’

‘I – well my wife proposed to me in a leap year’ Bastien raised his eyebrows

‘Did she, indeed.’ He said in surprise ‘Did that take you by surprise?’

‘It did Sir – I’d planned to ask her when we went on holiday – on the beach in the moonlight by a fire. But she beat me to it’ he shrugged ‘She uh – she dressed up - that is – it was very intimate Sir. You know – in the bedroom.’ He paused ‘I take it you plan to propose to Sophia, Sir?’

‘Very astute of you son – yes I am, but I can’t make up my mind about the details’

‘My advice would be to keep it simple, don’t overthink it and don’t leave it too long, Sir’

‘Wise words’ he smiled ‘Thankyou Lewis, I’ll keep you updated on when you’re to take over. I have to talk to the King yet, so don’t mention this to anyone please. As for the other matter – of course that’s also confidential.’

‘Of course Sir’ Lewis rose and left the room. Bastien folded up the piece of paper and got up to go and make an appointment to speak to King Liam.

[buttercupsfrocks]

I was in two minds whether to even make this post as my photos are of disappointing quality. Despite the bright sunlight streaming through my living room windows all day yesterday, anything below the knee remained shrouded in deep shadow. My mission was to style a pair of ankle length, black plisse Zara culottes, purchased last summer, in two different ways. But, alas, said culottes proved impossible to photograph, least of all in any detail. However, since they are a mainstay of my spring/summer wardrobe, and the point was to keep it real, I’m keeping it real.

Both the tops I’m modelling today came from local charity shops. To be honest, if it hadn’t been BNWT and going for a pittance I ordinarily wouldn’t have gone for this one. It’s a brand – Malissa J – stocked by the lady who runs what used to be the World’s Loveliest Gift Shop® and may even have started off there. It’s now a small, independent boutique and very much reflects the owner’s style, which runs towards loud, loose and very blingy. And while I’m not the biggest proponent of bling, and Lord knows I hate a shark bite hem almost as much as I hate a cold shoulder, I am a sucker for a big ol’ Rocky Horror pout. So home with me it came. The shoes are my trusty Office brogues from several years ago.

These 80s-mongous earrings are from Freedom for Topshop. Haven’t shared them on the blog before but they’re from a couple of years back when they suddenly became my number one purveyor of groovy, affordable perspex earrings. Poor Topshop. Last seen closing down their Richmond branch, which had been there since God’s dog was a puppy. I wonder which, if any, of our high street brands will be left standing if and when we’re permitted to mingle in public again? 

This is the alternative styling of the keks, which I actually wore all day. The top is from an Australian brand called Country Road and is probably meant to be  oversized, (they stop at a size 16), but it fits me like a regular shell top. And I have just this minute twigged that the reason I like it so much is because it has the exact same colour scheme as my paternal grandmother’s kitchen in the 60s. I’m accessorising with my Clark’s Trigenic sandals, Les Néréides spilled popcorn necklace, and last summer’s Oliver Bonas earrings. 

Also this vintage bracelet...

I meant to feature these two cups in my previous post but somehow they got away. The Royal Winton chintz cost me £1.75 in a chazza, (the saucer was broken and expertly mended; it doesn’t show unless you pick it up and turn it upside down), and the purple and gold cup and saucer to the left of it was a gift from a Facebook friend who was having a purge and thought it might be The Very Thing for my cabinet, which it certainly is. The inside of the cup has a pinky-lilac lustre glaze and, like my Paragon ones, has a combo of transfer and hand painted decoration. The bracelet, I think, is probably 60s. I thrifted it many moons ago and it’s missing a couple of diamantés. Though according to my late stepfather, who was an antiques enthusiast and taught me to haggle like a pro, any scratches, cracks, dents, or missing bits qualify as “patina” so I wear it with pride regardless.

And now I must share something amusing with you. As you know I do occasionally like a bit of European-Fat-Lady-of-a-Certain-Age-Chic, aka Lagenlook. When it’s done well, (and only when it’s done well) it can make for quite an opulent lewk. Like this delicate, ethereal confection worthy of Rooney Mara herself, which I’d totally wear to a wedding. Possibly even my own...

By the way, is “lewk” pronounced, as I suspect, more like “leeairk”? Because whenever I see it bandied about by the youth, I always hear it pronounced by some inner Liam Gallagher – a flat and nasal “luke”– which can’t possibly be what they’re going for. Sorry. Digressing. Lagenlook. 

Here’s some more from my beloved Gudrun Sjoden, very much to my liking...

You just know I’d be accused of Clown-Style if I wore the lime green  ensemble. Would I care? No, I would not. Come at me, bro.  So. Anyway, I stumbled across what looked like an intriguing garment on Pinterest. Crisp red linen, oversized, with lots of intricate pleating at the back. I assumed it to be a Yamamoto or some such and followed the link out of idle curiosity, only to end up on the website of an exclusive UK Lagenlook boutique which will remain nameless for your own protection, catering to women of all sizes. At first my interest was piqued until I discovered that the vast majority of the clothes they stock are black and faint-inducingly expensive. (A pair of shoes I was quite taken with cost almost five hundred quid. I think we’re probably all on the same page here). They were also for the most part so unremittingly ghastly that I was rendered quite speechless.

There’s a reason why these trousers are known as “shit catchers” in certain circles. Those frights on the right are described on the site as Best Ever Trousers and come in at £220. As for the other ensemble, which describes itself as pink but I think we all know it’s beige, the model’s face says it all. The woman whose brainchild the business is prides herself as being: "passionate about "proportion" and "tone" and also ensuring the right shape is on the right person...and with 25 years working personally with clients in my renowned city centre store, I feel my knowledge of body shape and clothing to suit is considerable.”

Shall we just take a closer look at those trousers on the left? You know you want to...

Still. Have. No. Words.

The lady, who describes herself as rotund and apple shaped, as I would myself, is an enthusiastic endorser of the Best Ever Trouser paired with a “one size” top that probably would fit everyone; simultaneously. 

For £269 you can have one just like it. Clown Style’s beginning to look pretty good at this point, isn’t it?

[innerpostmentality]

Sometimes Beginnings Start With Goodbye  IX - You

This is a TRR AU fan fic inspired by the Choices book series The Royal Romance All rights and many thanks are given to Pixelberry Studios for the use of their characters. Original characters are mine. The Sometimes Beginnings Start With Goodbye series is written for my friend @tornbetween2loves it started as a birthday fic and today I’m celebrating my awesome friend’s birthday again! Please read these stories in order or they won’t make sense. The series links can be found in my Masterlist. There will be more parts to this series. Featuring: Drake Walker X Meridoc Finn Rating: This part is PG but the story overall is very M             Word count: around 2800

Warnings: none for this part  SBSWG tags: @tornbetween2loves @gardeningourmet @allaboutchoices@stopforamoment  @bobasheebaby @cora-nova @indiacater @ao719@hopefulmoonobject @drakewalkerwhipped@texaskitten30 @darley1101 @furiousherringoperatortoad @emceesynonymroll @princessleac1 @romanticatheart-posts

    It had been one week two days and five hours since he’d seen her. He drank the protein shake he’d made without even tasting it. He washed the blender and his glass and set them in the drying rack before leaving the palace kitchen and heading to the stables. Methodically he fed each horse their apportioned morning feed and marked their charts. He pulled his measured bottle of water from the fridge in the stable and drank the prescribed 8 ounces before doing the prescribed stretches. Slinging the bottle strap around his neck he jogged out of the stable and out to the trail before picking up the pace. He focused on his stride, his breathing, his posture, the burn in his muscles. When he got to the 5k marker he walked around it slowly while he drank another 8 ounces of water before running back to the stable. He filled his water bottle back up and put it back in the fridge. He was toweling himself off when his autopilot disengaged enough that he realized he was being watched.  Drake turned and met the deep blue eyes that pierced him like a knife in his heart. Breandan Finn had the same blue eyes as his daughter and they were currently measuring him intently.  He turned away and hung his towel on a tack peg and took a deep breath before he brought himself to meet the old man’s eyes. “Morning, Mr. Finn. Um, did you need something? Can I assist you?”  “Ach, aye mac, indeed you can. Ni thuigim.” He shook his head and frowned then carefully put his words together. “What are you doing, Drake?”  “I, uh, just finished my run. I need to change before I check in with the King.” Drake rubbed the back of his neck as he purposely misunderstood Meridoc’s father.  Breandan shook his head. “No. You should go to m’inion. Dublin, not here is where you should be.” He pointed a thin finger to the North West. “A man should na be where his heart is no. You run and run but m’inion is there and you will na find her here.”  Drake ran a hand through his hair and dropped his hands as he sighed. “Sir… I…” He shook his head. “Look, I asked her to stay… I… I told her. Sir, I told her I love her. But she left. So I have to respect that.” The old man’s eyes narrowed, “An what did she say?”  Drake shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Ach yer arsewise in this Mac. It makes the world what M’inion said. What did she say?” There was a snap in Breandan’s voice Drake hadn’t heard before.  Drake’s voice when he found it was soft and filled with pain. “She said she loved me. But then she left.” He felt the tears starting. He hated that. Hated that he had no control. Hated the nakedness of his raw emotions. He shook his head and turned from Breandan.  Breandan laid his hand on Drake’s shoulder. “Mac… Son… come here to me, m’inion is very honest, very… smart.” Drake met his sapphire gaze and wiped at his tears. “She would no tell you that lightly. She is a doctor Drake. She can no be with a patient as woman to man. Go to her. She did’na leave because she did no love you. She left because she does.” He saw the truth in Breandan’s eyes and felt his vision tunneling as the enormity of it hit him. She hadn’t been sparing him. She loved him. He bent over bracing his hands on his knees feeling like he was about to pass out.  “I have to go to her.” He managed though he didn’t feel like he had any air. She actually loved him and left so he wouldn’t be her patient. He wasn’t her patient any more. And she loved him. And it was over a week and he hadn’t even called her. “I have to go … now.”  Breandan was grinning when Drake looked back up at him. “Ach, yes. Tis certain ya do.”  Drake pulled the older man into a fierce hug before he dashed for the palace.

He glanced at his watch as he ran to his room starting to strip even as he opened his door. He didn’t wait for the water to warm up before he stepped into the cold shower quickly rubbing himself with soap gritting his teeth against the sting of the icy water. His mind was racing as he sluiced shampoo into his hair. He would ask Liam if he could use the royal jet just to get him there.  That would be the fastest. He needed to call her. He needed to talk to Breandan. He had her address but he didn’t know her schedule. He would send her flowers and ask her out. He would need a hotel room in Dublin. He would take it slow, no pressure. He had a diplomatic passport but he wasn’t sure what he would need to be able to get a job. He stepped into the warming water letting it rinse the shampoo from his hair and the soap from his body then shut the shower off and grabbed a towel drying himself quickly just enough not to leave a puddle as he went into his bedroom and grabbed clean boxers and a tee-shirt from his drawers before going to his closet.  It may have been the first time in his life that his wardrobe seemed insufficient. Mr. Two Suits, he shook his head and put on the suit that Maxwell had helped him pick out over a year ago. He grabbed his lone suitcase and his gray suit and went back to his bedroom. He would have to pack after he talked with Liam. Quickly slipping on a pair of deck shoes he left to go meet Liam for lunch.  Mara was standing by the king’s office door when he got there. She shook her head at him as he approached. “Mr. Walker, His Majesty is currently not available I’m afraid. He asked if you might speak with him later?”  Drake was brought up short. He frowned. “Is everything okay?”  Mara looked at the door and shook her head then turned back to Drake. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say. I’m certain his Majesty will wish to speak with you later.”   Drake frowned as Meridoc’s words came back to him.  “Everything you do is for them. It’s on their time table. It’s with consideration for them. You have to figure out what you want for you, Drake. I’ve been here for five months working with you and studying all the dynamics of this place. It’s a fine place. But I don’t think you can grow here. And I can’t stay here anymore knowing that.” He shook his head. “I’m leaving.”, the words just fell out of his mouth. “Um… Please let his Majesty know I came by. I’ll call him later.” He turned without waiting for Mara and called the airport as he went back to his room to pack. He looked at his one suitcase and carefully packed his grey suit, his dress shoes, he tossed in enough undergarments for a week and a couple of pairs of jeans and denim shirts then grabbed the ring box with his grandmother’s ring. Checked his watch for the time and saw his flight to Dublin was only a couple of hours from then. Grabbing his suit case he headed for the palace garage. He asked Demetri, one of the palace chauffeurs if they would drive him to the airport. As soon as they were on the road he called Bastien.   “Ela, Drake!” Even in his distracted state he caught a strange, joyful note in Bastien’s tone.  “You sound good, Bastien. I.. I just needed to call you and let you know that I’m going to Dublin.” There was silence for a moment on the line.

“For Doctor Finn, yios?”  “Yes. I, I took her advice. Thought about what I actually wanted. It all kept coming back to her, Bastien.”  “Then you should go to her.” Bastien chuckled. “I also have a bit of news. I’m going to be a father.”  Drake dropped his phone and had to unbuckle himself and fish around on the floor for it. He heard Bastien calling his name as he picked it back up. “…. Drake? Are you there?... Did we lose connection?”  “Sorry. I’m here. Just dropped my phone. Damn. I mean. Wow. How did that happen? Damn, singariteeria, Bastien!” Bastien was laughing. And Drake heard the joy in his deep chortle. “Yios, it happened in the usual manner of such things happening. It is a strange moon Drake. I asked the king for time off and permission to court Her Grace, Lady Olivia. And he decided to knight me. Then I came to see her and found that she was expecting our child. Then you called me that you are going after Dr. Finn. How did Liam take you leaving?”  “He was busy and I was going to miss my plane if I waited for him. So he doesn’t know yet. I’ll try to get him before I get on the plane but if he’s still busy I may already be in Dublin before we speak.” Bastien’s voice was very serious, “Drake you do what you need to do. I love you, Yios. Liam will be well. You deserve to be happy.”  “Thank you, Bastien. And I’m really happy for you and Olivia. I’ll let you know more as soon as I know more…. Bastien se agapo.” “Se agapo, Yios. Safe journeys.”                           *********************************

  It may have been the hardest six hours of his life, the time between going through the gate to get on the plane in Cordonia International and getting off the plane in Dublin. It was the first time he’d flown since his hospitalization and the only time he’d flown since he was an adult without the assistance of good alcohol. He didn’t think of himself as an anxiety prone flyer. And maybe it was the overwhelming sense that he was truly starting a new chapter in his life. Or maybe all the mind games he was playing with himself as he planned and then discarded plan after plan on how exactly to contact Meridoc. Each scenario playing out in his head as more disastrous than the last.   He thought he’d bring her flowers then imagined he would pick something that she hated or was allergic to.  He thought he would surprise her then envisioned her answering the door expecting dinner for her and her new boyfriend.  He imagined her gently and patiently explaining to him how this was all a mistake.    He wanted a drink so damn badly it hurt. And he couldn’t just run or exercise to squash it. So he drank four ginger ales and four bottles of water and suffered the embarrassment of having to ask out of the middle coach seat twice to go relieve himself. He still remembered The Rules. Meridoc lancing him with the deep sapphire of her gaze before she wheeled him out of the hospital to start his rehab at the palace.   “Three things.    You must try. No giving up, playing hooky, taking shortcuts.    No alcohol. No beer, hard cider, or liquor, not in drinks, not uncooked in food.    And lastly, You must communicate honestly. No silent brooding. No lying even by omission.   Do these things and I’ve got you, every step. Break them and I’m on the next plane.”   He supposed in someway he had broken the third. He knew long before his cock woke back up and declared it that he had fallen in love with her.  He just couldn’t figure out how to tell her and not lose her. And here he was.   His plan as he landed in Dublin was to get a reasonable hotel until he could get an apartment and find a job. He had some savings and investments that would get him through a few months as long as he was careful. Bastien had insisted that he save and invest. And while he had almost resented it when he was in school and much younger, today he was grateful for the options it gave him.  He had checked his only bag and with one flash of his diplomatic passport he was through customs in almost no time. He did ask the customs officer what he would need to do if he decided he would like to try to find a job in Ireland and the official shook his head and told him that as a member of the royal household of Cordonia he wasn’t eligible to work in Ireland. He was welcome to stay as long as he wanted but unless he was a student or possessed certain Critical Skills he wouldn’t be permitted to work. Drake nodded but was undeterred. If he had to pull strings he would.

  Coming out of the customs area he stopped, stunned as a beautiful, tiny torpedo ran to him and hugged him fiercely. “Chaill mé an oiread sin. Ah Drake. I missed you.”  He dropped the handle of his suitcase and wrapped her in his arms holding her tight. He buried his face in her hair inhaling her scent and feeling like his heart had found home. His tears were falling and his throat was tight and all he could manage was “S’agape, Meri. s’agape.”  She pulled back smiling through her own tears and met his eyes. “Ach, aye, I love you too.” She gently stroked the tears from his cheeks then chuckled. “See what you do?” She dabbed her eyes. “Come on. Let’s go home.”  Drake felt sort of dazed as she led him out to the Taxi stand explaining that with the lunch rush and his luggage it would be better than trying to take the train or the bus. If he wasn’t so enchanted by the lilt of her voice he might have realized that she was a bit nervous. But her voice nourished and comforted him in ways he couldn’t explain. Finally he realized that she was looking at him expectantly and he had no idea what she had asked him. “Pardon? I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to meet me. And now I’m waiting to wake up drooling down my shirt.”  She squeezed his hand that she’d been holding on to. “I asked how your flight was?” She stroked his hand and smiled. “Da called and told me you were coming.” She looked down at their clasped hands and her voice got soft. “He said you wanted to talk.”  Drake stared at her delicate hand in his for a long moment. “Yes.” He nodded and looked in her eyes. “Your dad talked to me. And I realized something you told me. I thought about what I really wanted…” The taxi stopped then in front of a rather oddly shaped building that looked like an imperfect stack of triangular shaped floors that rose five stories constructed out of repurposed archaic bricks, rusted steel, and glass. Drake realized the offset of the floors allowed for every apartment to have a balcony. And he was certain the rent was high. But the curbside esthetic had him shaking his head.  Meri saw his look and chuckled. “I know. Trust me it’s better on the inside. It’s two bedrooms and two bathrooms, close to work for me, and accessible for Da.”  Drake stopped her as she started to climb out. “Meri… I don’t want to impose. I was planning on renting a room somewhere until I could find a place.”  She looked down a minute at their clasped hands then looked in his eyes. “What do you want, Drake?”  His chestnut gaze locked with the deep ocean of her eyes and his voice was a silken whisper, “You.”  ---- To be continued…..