#lifting him up over the high ledge while holding a heavy piece of wood and hitting him on the head

[milfbro]

gonna do my upper body workout listening to P.I.M.P. so that I can get the strength to push my garbage failhusband over the ledge while holding a very large piece of wood and htting him over the head with it to his death

[rune-writes]

A New Beginning

Fandom: Studio Ghibli | Mononoke Hime

Word count: 1988

Rating: G

Summary: It's been months since the Deer God's demise and the woods are thriving again. One evening, after a day's work of rebuilding a new village, Ashitaka visits San in the forest as per his promise, bringing with him a meal the villagers made for her.

Note: this is a piece I wrote for @ghiblicookbook. I got to write about Princess Mononoke with dinner as the main theme.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

The forest was quiet that evening. Nothing but the sound of the hooting owl, the rustles of leaves against the breeze, and the rhythmic thudding of Yakul’s hooves against the ground. The kodamas were watching with their smiles on their white illuminated bodies, the soft clicking of their shaking heads filling his senses. It had been several months since the men tried to take the Deer God’s head, and now the woods were thriving again.

Ashitaka was on his way to San’s home, riding on his elk as it made its way over uneven ground and upturned roots. Their path lit only by the moonlight filtered in through the gaps in the dark foliage. It had been a while since he was last there. Rebuilding a new village in the mountains hadn’t been an easy task.

However, that evening, just a little after sunset, Ashitaka’s work had finished unexpectedly early, and he wanted to see how San was doing. He was leading Yakul out of the stable by the reins when Eboshi called for him.

“Are you going to see the Wolf Girl?” Eboshi asked.

“San,” Ashitaka corrected. At Eboshi’s raised brow, he repeated himself. “Her name is San.”

Eboshi cleared her throat. “Yes, San, then. Are you going to see San?”

“Yes.”

Eboshi didn’t say anything. She only turned her head and nodded over her shoulder. Toki stepped forward from behind her, carrying a box wrapped in a modest red cloth.

“Dinner,” Toki explained. “From us. To her.” A genuine smile. “You haven’t had any, right? It’s enough for two.”

“Thank you,” Ashitaka said. He took the box from her. It was heavy.

“A peace offering,” Eboshi elaborated. Ashitaka looked at her and was surprised to see the prideful lady grimacing. “I doubt she would accept it readily, but this is a start.”

I see.

Ashitaka tightened his grip on the box, feeling it weighed down with the responsibility it carried. “I will relay your message,” he promised.

Eboshi smiled. “Thank you, Ashitaka. I’m sorry for making your leisure trip into one of an envoy.”

Ashitaka laughed at that. In all honesty, he had long since felt that he was an envoy between the Ironworks people and the Forest Gods.

The line of trees fell away and the path Ashitaka treaded with Yakul opened into a hill and rocky outcrop. Up a series of boulders stacked high against each other, his elk trotted upwards to the grassy patch near the top. An opening between the rocks led to the cave where San slept at night. It was empty. No signs of fire, flint, or stone. Not even any sign of her white wolves. Only the undisturbed bed of leaves that made up the cave floor.

Ashitaka headed out to the jutting rock overlooking the mountains, wondering if he could spot San among the darkness. But there were only the clear sky and the cool night wind greeting him as he stood by the ledge.

Instead of eating her, I raised her as my own, a voice rose from the distant reaches of his memories. My poor, ugly, beautiful daughter.

Ashitaka looked up, almost expecting to see the great white wolf lounging on the boulder’s flat surface above him, her eyes filled with reproach, asking him a question he couldn’t answer. How could you help her? But the space was empty. Moro was nowhere to be found.

Ashitaka felt the weight of the wrapped box in his hands. He hadn’t been able to answer that question before; he didn’t know if he had the answer now. But he had promised Moro he would save San, and that was what he was going to do.

“Ashitaka?”

The soft call came from behind him. Ashitaka looked over his shoulder and found San emerging from the cave’s mouth. He smiled at her. “You’re back.”

“Yeah,” San replied, joining him by the ledge. “I was surprised to find Yakul outside, but here you are.” A quiet laugh. “What brings you here?”

“I promised we’d come see you whenever we can, right?” he said. “Well, we can now. And look—” Ashitaka lifted the wrapped box, “—I bring gifts.”

“Gifts?”

“The villagers made it,” he went on, making his way inside the cave. He sat down on the hard floor between the leaf bed and the cave mouth before laying down the box in front of him. Untying the knot and opening the lid, Ashitaka found a stacked food container inside, with a couple bowls, spoons, and a ladle.

“What’s that?”

“Dinner. You haven’t had any, right?” He had caught sight of the fruits, berries, and some plants in San’s hand when she came to meet him out on the ledge.

“No, but—”

“Come on, then.” He patted the space next to him with a grin. From the scent wafting up from the container, Ashitaka knew their dinner was going to be delicious. If Eboshi really did mean to offer peace, she might have asked Toki to make this especially good.

He used the wrapping cloth as a mat and set the container over them. A bowl and a spoon would mean some sort of soup or congee, but the strong scent of spice coming from the top lid meant there was grilled meat. Beef? Lamb? Or maybe just chicken?

Ashitaka uncovered the top lid and indeed, what he found were skewered meat set neatly in a stacked row. It looked like they had packed in at least thirty skewers. The second container beneath it held what looked to be congee. The rich smell teased his nostrils, pulling his lips into a small smile.

He grabbed the ladle from the box and stirred the congee. There were eggs too, and he could barely smell the pork stock Toki had used. He ladled the congee into each bowl before setting them down on either side.

He then grabbed one of the skewers and took a bite. Lamb meat, it seemed—so soft and juicy as it melted in his mouth. A hint of saltiness, but the spice tasted more prominent. Ashitaka smiled, looking up to his friend still standing by the cave’s mouth. “Try them,” he said, holding the skewer up.

San stared at it, then at the dishes, and shook her head and took a step back. “I’m not touching that.”

“Wh—” Ashitaka gulped down his lamb, “—why?”

“It smells weird. And it looks weird. And did you say it was from the villagers?” San shook her head again. “I’m not eating that.”

Ashitaka sighed. “San—” he began.

“No, Ashitaka!”

“But they’re delicious.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re missing a lot.”

San scowled. She made her point by plopping herself down on the ground and took a large bite off whatever edible root she had brought back from her foraging.

Ashitaka pursed his lips. This was not going how he had wanted it to. Yes, he knew San wouldn’t receive it gladly, but he’d thought if he had omitted Eboshi’s name, she would at least sit down and try some of these. But she didn’t even give him the chance to explain, and Ashitaka saw no way he could let her know about the peace offering.

He looked at the lamb skewer in his hand then glanced up at San, still stubbornly chewing her root, refusing to meet his eyes. He sighed, letting his hand drop to his lap.

“I was going to say that Eboshi wishes to offer peace,” he began. He noticed a stiffening in her shoulders, the way her eyes flitted to him for a fraction of a second and the pause in her bite. He smiled a soft self-deprecating smile. “She knew you wouldn’t accept it readily.”

“Then why bother?”

“Because it’s a start.” Toward peace, and a new beginning. San leveled her gaze at him for a few more moments before pointedly looking away.

Ashitaka waited for one heartbeat, then another, and said, “You really won’t try some? It’s really good.” He took another bite off the lamb. It really was delicious. Toki and the women had probably gone above and beyond to make this.

San plopped a purple berry into her mouth with a huff.

Ashitaka stared at her, before quietly saying, “Moro asked me to look after you.”

That did it, as he knew it would. The mention of Moro’s name was like a hammer breaking through her strong façade. The flash in her eyes as she glared at him—at least she kept her gaze locked with his. And then he saw it, the slight crumbling of her resolve, as she muttered, “That’s not fair.” With a shuddering breath, San drew a long sigh, and went over to sit next to him.

Ashitaka couldn’t help the beam on his face. He grabbed her bowl and held it out to her. “Here, try this.”

“What is this?” she asked, scrunching her face. She took a sniff, then immediately pulled back with a frown and a shake of her head. Ashitaka laughed. If that were enough to repulse her, he wondered how she would react to the lamb’s strong flavor and scent.

“It’s called congee, and it really warms you up.”

She met his gaze again, and he nodded at her encouragingly. He showed her how to use the spoon, and she did as she was told, albeit clumsily. She brought the gruel to her mouth, barely touching the spoon to her lips. A moment’s pause, her tongue lapping at her lips, before she gulped the congee down.

Ashitaka waited with bated breath.

“It’s…good.” Her voice soft, she scooped another spoonful of the dish and ate it without question. Her face broke into a small smile. “It’s really good. What is this—egg?” She ate the entire egg in one go.

“Try this next.” He grabbed one skewer from the container and handed it to her.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Lamb skewers.”

“Lamb?” Her eyes narrowed at it. “It’s burned.”

“It’s grilled, San,” Ashitaka replied with a laugh. “We cook our meat before eating it.”

She gave a noncommittal grunt, but she put her bowl down and grabbed the skewer from him. She eyed it skeptically, took a sniff, and scrunched her nose. “It smells even weirder.” Ashitaka chuckled at that.

San took an experimental bite off the top cube, her jaws moving slowly. She puckered her face, trying get the meat down her throat.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” he asked, watching her closely.

San swiped her tongue against her mouth before eyeing the lamb again and took another bite. She seemed to have an easier time digesting it now, the grimace on her face transforming into an uncertain frown. “It’s all right, I guess. It tastes…good, but the meat’s not juicy.”

The comment left him dumbstruck. He hadn’t expected it at all. When it finally registered in his mind, bone-shaking laughter overcame him, and San had to pause eating and stare at him. Of course, if he thought about it, the meat wouldn’t be juicy enough for someone who had never eaten anything cooked.

“This doesn’t mean I accept her apology, okay?” she said with a frown. “I’m only eating the food youbrought me. I trust you. I don’t trust her.”

“I know, I know,” Ashitaka said, brushing the tears away from his eyes. “She knows that too.”

“Good then.” A short, clipped answer. San went back to her lamb and took her third bite without any difficulty.

It was hard to keep himself from smiling because this was the girl who had been so adamant on hating humans and the human life, and yet now he was watching her eat human foods with such joy on her face.

“Want me to teach you how to make them? It’s not hard.”

San glanced at him, and there was a small smile on her face as she said, “I’ll think about it.”

~ END ~

[raviotherabbit]

royal pain in the ass- chapter 6

Chapter 6: Era of the Great Sea Captain Tetra saves some castaways.

[first] - [previous] - [next] read it on ao3!

  △ ▲△

There was just something about Outset Island.

Tetra hated pretty much everything about it. The people there were soft, even the fishermen who spent their days hunting down the monsters of the sea. Everyone was preoccupied with their simple lives. Rearing their children, washing their clothes and hanging them to dry, playing with wooden swords…

They all went on like this, day after day, as though a great and powerful kingdom did not lay in ruins, miles below the sea.

But still, some little part of Tetra couldn’t help but want it. She wanted that simple life, to live without a care in the world. The burden on her shoulders was heavy, but the time she’d spent on Link’s little island, where nobody needed anything from her, had lifted it.

So when she found Link on Outset, of all places, well… that just sweetened the deal, didn’t it?

Rats… Wind was his name, now, wasn’t it? At least for now it was.

The best part of Outset, though, had to be the woods. The Forest of Fairies was quiet these days, which perhaps made it all the more ideal in Tetra’s opinion. She never got a second alone on her ship, not truly, but she could here.

Gently, she placed a hand on one of the trees, tracing the grooves in its bark. She was familiar with this one. When the Helmaroc King dropped her, it was this tree that she fell into, the branches snagging on her clothes. And then she met Wind.

Goddesses, where would she be without Wind? If this one, special, stupid kid hadn’t found her that day. Part of her wanted to think she could have taken Ganondorf on her own, and that was the part of her she let control the narrative.

Still, the Forest of Fairies was beautiful. Tetra could only hope their new home would have places half as pretty. With its cool breeze rustling fallen leaves, the ever-present smell of fresh dew, and gentle harp strumming…

Wait. Who the hell was playing the harp up here?!

Her good mood thoroughly ruined, Tetra followed the sound of the harp. Eventually, she came upon one of the heroes, sitting at the forest’s cliff.

What was his name? Cloud? No, that’s close, but not right… What’s a Hero of the Clouds, anyway? That sounded stupid. Hero of the Sun? Hero of the… Wind? No wait-

Sky! It’s Sky!

Yikes, though. Sky didn’t look so good. He kept plucking at the strings of his harp, but each time he only made it a few notes in before wincing. There were dark circles under his eyes, which kept darting up towards his clear, blue namesake with desperation.

Tetra almost left right then and there.

But there was a voice in the back of her head, one that sounded a bit like Wind, a bit like an old king. A princess would try to help her people.

Ugh. Fine. This would be a good practice run, anyway.

“Hey, buddy,” Tetra awkwardly tried to put on her cheerful princess voice. “What’s- what’s up?”

Sky looked back at her, almost no emotion on his face. “Oh, Zelda.”

“It’s Tetra,” she responded instinctively, mentally cringing at her own bluntness. She’s trying to be nice now!

“Right, Tetra,” Sky nodded, as if reminding himself. “I have a question for you.”

“Alright, I can answer questions.” Tetra took a seat next to Sky, letting her legs dangle off the cliff’s edge. “What do you want to know?”

“Your Hyrule,” he gestured towards the Great Sea, expanding as far as the eye could see. “How did it come to be this way?”

Right, this guy’s the first one. “Well, Ganondorf was sealed in the Evil Realm,” she started.

“Then what happened?”

“He broke free. The people of Hyrule, they prayed to the Goddesses to save them from his wrath, and-” Tetra swallowed. “And they flooded the land.”

For a moment, Sky was silent. His grip on his harp was tight, and for a moment, Tetra was concerned he’d break it. It was such a nice piece of treasure, after all, and it’d be a shame if it were harmed.

Finally, he spoke again. “How many died?”

“What?” Tetra almost shouted, certain she’d misheard him.

“When the flood came, how many died?” Sky reiterated, his gaze focused on the waves lapping at Outset’s shore.

“I- I don’t…” she sputtered helplessly. “I don’t know.”

“This is the legacy I’ve left the world,” Sky said. “What did their blind faith bring them?”

  △ ▲△

Standing on the stern of her ship, Captain Tetra takes in a deep breath and sighs. There’s nothing like the open ocean, is there? Cutting through the waves, the smell of salt in the night air…

With Wind gone on his little hero quest, searching for new land has taken a backseat. He would kill her if she even thought about founding her kingdom without him there by her side. Well, at least try to. They both know who would really win that fight.

But it��s not so bad. New Hyrule can wait, Tetra has a chance to focus on some of her own passions.

“Captain!” It’s Gonzo, Tetra’s right-hand man. He stops a few feet behind her. “We’ve spotted the Ghost Ship at Greatfish Isle!”

Like hunting down and destroying every last Ghost Ship on the high fucking seas.

“Excellent.” Tetra smirks. “Alter course for Greatfish. We’re going to destroy some undead tonight.”

“Uh, that’s just it, Captain,” Gonzo says. “There’s people on the island, yeah? And they’re fighting the monsters!”

“What?!” Tetra snaps back towards her subordinate. “Who would be stupid enough to fight a Ghost Ship?!”

△ ▲△

Of course, the second they noticed the ship, that’s when the undead started jumping onto their islet.

“Get it off get it off get it off get it off!” Flora desperately shouts as, using the Magnesis Rune, she slams the shield from Artemis down onto the Stalfos that has an iron-tight grip on her ankle.

“Flora, use the shield!” Dusk shouts over her shoulder, focused more on parrying off the sword of a Stalfos. In the same swift movement, she drives her rapier cleanly into its skull. As much as Artemis hates to admit it, Dusk is good. “Don’t make it a mallet!”

“She knows what she’s doing!” Artemis contends, just as her sword meets the lantern of a poe. “She doesn’t need you telling her what to do!”

“Now isn’t the time for arguing with each other!” Sun’s exasperation drips off her words. She’s just barely able to duck, dodging a swing from a Stalfos. On the ground, she kicks a leg out, knocking the walking skeleton off its feet.

Artemis’s eye twitches, and she snaps back around in anger. “I’m just saying-!”

But that moment of distraction was just a smidge too much. The Poe rises behind her, raising its glowing hand, preparing for the one, fatal strike. But before Flora can even gasp, or Sun can yell for her to watch out-

BANG!

The Poe’s lantern shatters, and with an agonizing shriek, it disappears.

There’s another ship in the water, bearing a red and white sail with two crossed swords. And there, gripping onto a rope as she leans off the bowsprit, is Tetra, the barrel of her gun smoking.

“Tetra!” Artemis could breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank the Goddess you’re here!”

Tetra blinks, taken aback for a moment. “Queenie?! I thought the Time War was over!”

“Fight now, talk later!” Sun shouts over the Stalfos she has in a headlock.

Tetra nods, tilting her head back towards her ship. “Boys! Lend them a hand!”

At her word, a crew of men lapel down from the ship and into the shallow waters. With their cutlasses drawn, they begin slicing away at the Poes and Stalfos attacking the stranded ladies.

Tetra sharply whistles, catching Artemis’s attention. “Queenie, take your best, leave the other two behind! We’re boarding that ship!”

Artemis bites her cheek. Her best, huh?

Well, there was no doubt about which of them had the most training.

“Dusk!” she cups her mouth as she yells.

And Dusk almost instantaneously freezes, her rapier dropping slightly as she looks at Artemis, her eyes wide.

“Come with me to the ship!” Artemis points towards the Ghost Ship. “We need you!”

For a moment, a very brief one, Dusk doesn’t react. Then, she smirks, a smugness only a queen could have.

“It’s about time,” she says.

  △ ▲△

The second they step into the Ghost Ship’s hull, Dusk’s nose wrinkles. “I can practically feel the dust in the air.”

The whole interior of the ship seems to be filled with smog, solidifying the undead ambience. Its wooden walls groan as it’s rocked by the sea, giving off the same eerie blue lighting it had on the outside. Below them, on the ship’s bottom, were monsters. Poes and ReDeads.

“We need to get back there,” Tetra gestures towards the back of the ship with her cutlass. “Once we take the treasure, the ship will disappear.”

“Right, because you’re pirates,” Dusk crosses her arms. “Remind me how you two know each other, again?”

Artemis and Tetra exchange a glance. “The War Across the Ages,” the former explains. “We recruited many individuals adrift from their own eras.”

“But pirates? Really?” Dusk gestures to Tetra with a hand.

“I’ll have you know, I’m the greatest pirate who ever sailed this sea,” Tetra jabs her thumb towards herself.

Artemis rolls her eyes. “Come on you two, behave. You’re cousins, after all.”

“Wh-what?!” Dusk sputters. “I thought you said her name was Tetra!”

Tetra snorts. “Yeah, but to some people, it’s Princess Zelda.” She holds out her hand, winking at Dusk. “Welcome to the family, cousin!”

Hesitantly, Dusk shakes her hand. Tetra responds with a shocking amount of vigor.

“Now that that’s settled,” Artemis claps her hands together. “How about we defeat some undead?”

As if answering her question, Tetra shoots right at the ReDead’s skull. While her bullet is enough to defeat the single ReDead, the sound also draws the attention of the other monsters on the ship. Slowly, they begin shambling towards the ledge the ladies stand on.

“Oh great,” Dusk mutters to herself. “There goes our element of surprise.”

“Dusk, we should stick together,” Artemis suggests, careful in her phrasing as she draws her rapier. “We can watch each other’s backs.”

With a nod, Dusk retrieves her own sword. “Let’s go,” is the only thing she says before she jumps off the ledge.

  △ ▲△

These new guys, Sun decides, are good. They’re decent with their swords, though she knows they’d be better if they’d attended the Knight’s Academy. At least they’re good enough to make up for both Artemis and Dusk’s absences.

One of the taller pirates slices clean through the neck of a Stalfos, its head landing just at Sun’s feet. Rearing her foot up, she crushes it under her boot. Of course, she’d never admit it, but that crunch! is such a sweet sound. Like music to her ears.

Sun’s ears twitch slightly as they pick up the faint sound of clanging metal. She’s just in time to duck again, missing a swing from an angry Poe.

“Hey, pirates!” she shouts, hoping to catch the attention of at least one of them. “Think one of you can take this for me?”

The tall one with the bandana nods, quickly moving himself between Sun and the Poe. She sighs. She just isn’t equipped to deal with that, today. Maybe if she’d remembered to bring a sword…

Sure, hand-to-hand combat isn’t usually her first choice, but Sun has grown to appreciate it over the past few minutes. Hylia, not just appreciate it. She loves it, more than she ever thought she would. Who would have guessed that punching things would be so fun?

“Well, well, look who’s decided to grace us with her presence.”

Oh, that sounds considerably less fun!

Turning behind her, Sun sees what must be the monster Artemis and Flora told her about. Because as her eyes lay on him, it’s almost as if his form is wobbling, before solidifying into a figure she knows well.

It’s a shadow of Sky. A representation of her Link, but if he was dunked in black paint and given terrifying red eyes.

“I’ve heard of you,” Sun’s eyes narrow at Dark Link.

“Ah, and I know you, your grace,” Dark Link laughs, and though it’s cruel and contemptuous, some part of her head thinks, ‘That’s familiar.’

“But tell me,” he continues. “What’s Hylia herself doing so far from home?”

Sun freezes, her blood running cold. “How did you…? Who are you?”

“What, you don’t recognize your own hero?” Dark Link frowns mockingly. “You know, I thought he’d take the longest to crack, but just a few whispers about the sea, and-” he abruptly snaps. “He was as good as gone. Now that fairy brat, on the other hand…”

“Stop it,” Sun snaps at him. “Just tell me where they are.”

“Oh? And why would you care?” The shadow tilts his head, and for a moment, his confusion almost seems genuine. “You goddesses have never cared for the fates of your heroes.”

And then, there’s a spark inside of Sun, and it sets her whole mind on fire. “I am not Hylia,” she asserts, grabbing onto his arm. “I. Am. ZELDA!”

It’s a moment of pure focus, the first time she’s ever said anything like that aloud, let alone screamed it. Unfortunately, it’s also a moment of distraction, just as Dark Link wanted. He draws his shadowy Master Sword, raises it above his head, and-

“SUN!”

Suddenly, Flora pushes Sun out of the way. The sword’s hilt strikes her head with a loud, sickening CRACK! She ends up collapsing right on top of her ancestor.

“Flora!” Sun gasps, tilting the scholar’s chin up to get a better look at her. After such a nasty blow, it makes sense that she’s out cold. But there’s blood, a lot of it, practically running down her face from above her left eye.

“You hurt her!” Sun exclaims, drawing Flora as close as she can bring her. “You son of a-!”

But, just then, they’re interrupted by two more shouts. In all the hassle, Sun hadn’t even noticed the Ghost Ship’s disappearance. Dusk, Artemis, and Tetra stand on the shore, staring right at the mess in front of them.

In an almost simultaneous burst of light, Artemis and Dusk summon their Bows of Light. Tetra draws her pistol, all three taking aim at Dark Link.

“Not another move, asshat,” Tetra warns him. “Attacking a princess is rude, you know.”

“She’s a queen,” Artemis informs her.

“Attacking a queen is rude, you know,” Tetra amends.

“Well,” Dark Link raises his hands above his head. “It seems we’re at an impasse.” He catches Sun’s eye one last time. “Farewell for now, your grace.”

Before any shots can be fired, Dark Link’s shadowy mass collapses in on itself. Like a splash of water, he sinks into the ground and disappears.

As the adrenaline fades from her body, Sun suddenly looks down at the bleeding body in her arms. She tightens her grip around her descendant, instinctively covering Flora’s wound with her hands.

“Oh no,” she mutters to herself as her fingers turn red. “Guys! We need help!”

  △ ▲△

It’s just a head wound, Tetra told them. And a head wound means it looks worse than it is, and it’ll bleed more than usual. Flora’s fine, she insists, she’ll wake up soon. All they have to do is keep an eye on her bandages and wait.

“I mean, you’ve seen my Link,” Tetra explains, leaning against her ship’s railing. “He gets a concussion every other week. He’s bounced back from worse than what Flora has.”

There really was no reason to stay on Greatfish any longer, now that they had Tetra and her crew. She’d been so generous as to waive the transport fee, something about a family discount that Artemis didn’t really hear. They’re heading to Windfall Island, so that they can restock their supplies before the next portal appears.

Flora was set up in one of the bedrooms below deck, tucked safely into one of the beds. Artemis has taken it upon herself to remain by her side, at least until she wakes up. She’s just so pale, and she hasn’t moved an inch…

As the first rays of light touch the sea, there’s a light knock on the door.

“Come in,” Artemis calls out, rising from her chair at Flora’s bedside.

The door creaks open, and Dusk pops her head in. “How’s she doing?” she asks, tilting her head towards Flora.

“No change,” Artemis crosses her arms and sighs. “I know Tetra said this is normal, but still…”

Dusk steps into the cabin, closing the door behind her with a sigh. “Sun’s a bit of a wreck. I told her I’d check in on Flora if she ate something.”

“She doesn’t blame herself, does she?” Artemis questions, wringing her hands together.

“The hit was intended for her, from what I can gather,” Dusk reveals. She gently places a hand at the top of Flora’s head. “You’re quite brave.”

Artemis smiles weakly, sitting back in her chair. “How are you holding up, Dusk?”

“I’ll admit, pirate ships aren’t as bad as I thought,” Dusk chuckles lightly. “It’s quite cozy here.”

“Dusk, I’m-” Artemis starts, but she swallows and starts again. “I’m sorry. You haven’t really spent that much time travelling before, and it was irresponsible of me to assume you’d feel comfortable with it immediately.”

“Artemis,” Dusk sighs. She kneels next to her, taking her hands into her own. “I should be the one apologizing. You were trying your best, but… I’m sorry, I was rude about your night watch, and I really ruined the whole thing, didn’t I?”

“Oh come on,” Artemis scoffs, but for once, there’s no malice behind her words. Her hands return Dusk’s grip with a tight squeeze. “You clearly weren’t okay with it, and I took that personally instead of making sure you were alright.”

“I just…” Dusk purses her lips together. “I’m scared of being alone in the dark.”

“Then you won’t have to cover any watches,” Artemis asserts. “But, you know, I spent a lot of time in a warped version of your era. I even met the most peculiar woman, a princess of the Twilight Realm…”

Dusk gasps. “You met Midna.”

“I did,” she nods. “So if you ever need someone to talk to, please consider me.”

Wordlessly, Dusk leans forward and pulls Artemis into what might be the warmest hug she’s felt in years. And instinctually, Artemis hugs her back.

For a long time, they stay like that.

“You know, I never figured it out,” Dusk suddenly speaks. “Flora’s down the family tree, and Sun’s up it. When exactly does the War Across the Ages take place?”

“From your perspective? You have about two-hundred years to go,” Artemis reveals. “You’re my grandmother a few times over, by the way.”

“What?!” Dusk suddenly draws back. “Why didn’t you lead with that?!”

  △ ▲△

Waking up is quite the process. When Flora opens her eyes for the first time, her vision is blurry. Like the world’s been spun around. Just barely, she’s able to lift her head, though her neck protests such movements.

There, sitting at the edge of her bed, though. That has to be Mipha. Who else would wait for her like that, within arm’s reach should she need an extra bit of healing?

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Daruk and Urbosa just a few feet away. They’re talking to each other, maybe about her. Their tones are quiet and subdued, though. And Revali! Revali is waiting, just by the door. That's just like him to hover, even if he pretends not to.

‘Did I pass out in the spring again?’ she wonders.

“Flora?”

But then, she blinks, and it’s almost as though the scene shifts. It’s Sun sitting on her bed, a look of hope clear on her face. Artemis and Dusk freeze, gaping at Flora’s awakening. Tetra is the one who’s by the door, though she’s clearly keeping her distance.

Right. Of course.

“Flora!” Sun springs to her feet. “You’re okay!”

And then, before Flora’s sluggish mind can catch up with her, Sun wraps her up into a tight hug. Flora’s head throbs at the sudden, jerky movement.

“Ow…” Flora groans.

Sun gasps in shock, dropping Flora back onto her pillow. “Sorry!”

“Hylia’s fucking tits-” Tetra curses, missing Sun covering her chest with an arm at those words. She pushes herself between Sun and Flora. “Do none of you know how to handle head injuries? Stop moving her around!”

“I’m sorry, it’s just-” Sun awkwardly fidgets with her fingers. “She got hurt because of me! I need to make sure she’s okay!”

“And I want to make sure my travels with you four start off on the right foot,” Tetra insists. “Without anyone dying.”

“I’m fine,” Flora croaks out.

Dusk gestures a hand to the young queen. “See? She’s fine.”

“You’ve decided you’re coming with, then?” Artemis suddenly appears at Flora’s side, lightly patting her head. “You didn’t need much convincing.”

Tetra shrugs. “I figure I owe Link this much. He’d do the same for me.”

“Woo,” Flora weakly cheers, lamely raising a fist in celebration.

Artemis gently pushes her hand down. “We’ve still got a few days left on the Great Sea, Flora, don’t get your hopes up. We’re not going anywhere until that head wound of yours closes.”

“Aw…” Flora pouts, crossing her arms.

“Get some rest, kid,” Dusk instructs her. “You look like you need it.”

“You,” Flora points to Tetra, though there’s already a drowsiness to her words. “You’re going to tell me more about your time.”

Tetra nods mockingly, taking Flora’s hand into her own. “When you wake up, your majesty.”

[illyrian-lover-flower]

The chosen forest keeper 7

                    Is a half spoken truth a half spoken lie?

Word count: ~5.7

A scream ripped through the air – howling like one of the mighty wolves back in her home – followed by the sound of cracking bones as a body crashed down onto the earth. Wings, arms, ribs and legs broken and shattered as the crash echoed through the earth below the Illyrian, who screamed in pain and agony at whatever gods to have mercy with her, but no god listened in on her suffering as the female –dark as night- lay helpless in the dark depths of night. Blood running down her back, bones peeking sharp and pearl white –smeared with red- through her dark skin. Howls and cries of pain shook the females body as her destroyed body trembled of fear, every crack and rustle around her too quiet as she howled and cried, in pain, for help only when darkness loomed over her, did her heart retching cries stop. Those crystal-clear eyes of hers, nursing fear as one of the crystals displayed in the ghostly blue sea, letting it grow the closer this looming shadow got to her. Helpless –a prey- that had to wait and see their last face until a final scream ripped from her lungs, obsidian claws tearing them to nothing but shreds, as they could have been remaining pieces of an old gown.

*

*

*

A grunt went through the forest as the leaves got painted in blood, a male – weakened and with torn wings, that dragged behind him on the mushy floor like an old rug – fought his way through bushes and leaves, limping past mighty trees and hollow caves as the smirking creature approached him. Seemingly playing with the tall male as it chased him almost lazily through the deepest depths of the forest. Drenching the earth in his blood and scent as his weakened body limped over stick and stone – his large hands pressing down on a bleeding bite wound in his side that slowly took his strength away- while he hoped to find the secure path back to his lonely home. Though not even one glowing light of home came into sight as he was backed away in a corner of the dark woods and far away from a calm feeling of secureness and safety.

A steep wall of sharp stones climbing up high in the sky, in front of him, as a wide ledge loomed mockingly far out above his head. Sharp, long stones, like the teeth of the creature who haunted him, hanging spiteful above him as they reminded the bulky warrior of the teeth that just sunk into his very own flesh, probably still enjoying the lingering taste of his life elixir on this long sharp tongue it owned.  

A crack of a branch behind him, had his attention ever the more as he slowly backed himself into the sharp stone wall behind him, those cautious brown eyes of his tracing every bush, every tree, for a rattle of leaves – though what rattled were not the leaves in front of him, as it were the sharp stones that came flying down on him like speers, as the last thing he saw was the smirking smile of these sharp pearl white teeth, through which shreds of his torn off skin clung, as it looked curiously over the ledge and howled in laughter as soon as the first stone crashed down on him - only centimetres away from his to death sentenced form. Darkness soon claiming him as the rain of stone needles continued falling down on him.

*

*

*

A scream tore from Elain’s lungs and shattered through the peaceful silence that surrounded both, Fersia’s and her, sleeping forms.  

Sweat clung to the fawn like a second skin as she propped her shaken form up on her forearms, panting like a dog, did she sit there. Lazily glowing embers burning and radiating warmth off to her left, while those haunted pictures chased her - so much blood, so many broken bones – so many deaths and screams still vibrating after in her brain, like a hit cymbal, as she tried to get a hold on herself and her shaking body again.

‘A nightmare –nightmares- nothing more.’ was all she could try to calm herself with, though something inside her seemed to be very against this, as if she already knew that there was something more to these bloody pictures. She had dreaded the answer, with churning guts, as she tried to swallow the thought and the bitter taste of them. But it did not work, as those sharp words cut through her heart and brain like a knife through butter, ‘Oh Mother above, what if those were visions!’  

Dread filled her guts and soon did she roll of the couch, pillows falling like heavy, thick snowflakes to the wooden ground while the blanket tangled up between her legs –a hungry snake that bit into the flesh of her prey, but Elain was no prey –she decided- as she grabbed the fluffy blanket and tried to stumble out of her soft ankle chain, that let her go somewhere on the short way between the dark bath chamber and the gleaming sitting room. Her force was far too strong as she flung the old door wide open and sank heavy down on the floor in front of the toilet, hurling up the contents of her stomach. The bitter taste of vomit tickled on her tongue and up her throat, while the nasty smell of it filled her flaring nose, the retching sounds of her trembling body all that echoed in those pointed ears of hers and the silent air, as  she was bent over the toilet bowl.  

“Goldenrod, are you sure you are fine?” asked her Fersia’s sleep rough voice groggily as she bent down next to the seer, holding back the strands of her honey hair, as it had hidden her friend's misery behind a long golden curtain, draping a comforting wing over the hunched form of Elain. But Elain could not answer, not with the strong urge to gag still lingering in her heaving chest. Sweat sticking to her face, like a dust of water clung to one who walked past a waterfall, soft strands of her hair, framing her pale face as the pictures rushed to her again.  

Dead, empty, fearful eyes, the sight of rotten flesh, that already harboured hundreds of maggots and flies that flew hungrily around it as the maggots long feasted on the yellow-ish pale skin. White bones, that poked out almost pearl white from torn off limbs, not helping her poor state at all as those pictures filled her mind once again. The small break she had from vomiting soon vanishing as the contents of her stomach crawled back to the surface another time, letting her slump down over the bowl once again. Fersia’s warm wing and her strong hand in her hair, was little distraction for the seer, but it was at least something that tried to get her mind off from all those blood-filled thoughts.  

Blood sploshed and spluttered, dried out and got washed away from the heavy rain that sought out these woods. Blood stuck to fearful faces, framed the dead bodies on the lonely forest floor, as the red puddle vanished into a rusty bed bellow the one it once belonged to.

Elain heaved again –those wide eyes sticking to her like glue- as her gaging echoed once again through the quiet hut. She needed to concentrate on something else, anything else, but those pairs of eyes from green, brown, golden, blue, grey and even red.  

A heaved breath –like a wind that swished through the grey skies and chased grey, black and white clouds, no matter their size or form, away from the sky and tried to summon the prettiest blue of the world - was all she could do to get rid of the pictures, as she too, tried to summon this beautiful, peaceful blue in her mind again. A clearness in her mind she wished to see sone again, as she concentrated on Fersia’s warm wing, that lay draped across her hunched back and protected her from anything that could harm her more, and her heaving breaths that made her rise and slump ever so often over the toilet bowl.  

One, a ragged suck of air.  

Two, a heavy blow shivering from her lungs and down to her shaking hands.

Three, a heaving force of air widening her lungs.  

Four, a heavy gust steadily leaving her body.  

And then she swallowed, the bitter taste of her vomit traveling down her gullet, while her Adams apple seemed to jump at the disgusting taste, that slowly crawled back down into her guts. Elain had to restrain herself from the urge to puke another time, but the calming voice of Fersia, that asked her ever so gently; “Feeling better now?”, was a good distraction for her weak mind. The seer only nodded weakly as she tried to cast a small smile on her lips, but nothing even close to a soft smile came close to the grimace she seemed to have pulled, in an attempt to not worry her friend more than she already did, but the calm Illyrian female noticed her hard try and tried also to smile a little at her, as her strong arms slowly lifted Elain off the ground.

The Illyrian knew the sweet seer would have tried to apologise if they would have sat any longer there, so she swiftly moved to pull her delicate friend up and wadded through softly gleaming darkness - that seemed to layer itself around the fawn with each steady step the bulky female did- with her.

Elain blinked confused up at her friend as she was seated carefully on the soft mattress. Fersia merely told her “Put yourself under the blanket –it's large enough for the two of us- and try to find some rest, I’ll be by your side in no time – alright?” and then her dark form retreated. This large form of hers, that softly loomed over her, backed away into the small bath chamber, where she most likely got rid of the vomit. 

Shame washed over the seer as she thought about it and how the female would clean up her mess, she came here to not be babied so much anymore, and yet did it all seem as if it would always be like this as it started all over again, but perhaps –just this once- could Elain allow it to be babied, as she knew that her feet and whole body were still trembling in fear of what bloodshed she had just seen.

Yeah – perhaps Fersia was right, as she merely stated the seer to lay down. And so, Elain did just that, slowly sinking down on the soft mattress as it seemed to swallow up her small weight greedily and welcomed her in a soft soothing embrace of warmth.  

She didn’t even think about getting the soft blanket she had thrown so clumsily down on the floor as she had rushed to the bath room, further more did she not even think of throwing the wrinkled blanket, that lay warm and lonely all across the mattress, over her for she knew it belonged to Fersia and she already had started invading her space as soon as she stepped over the threshold. This – Elain’s body slowly sinking into the mattress and enjoying the warmth of it – was the farthest she would go as the soothing smell of freshly fallen rain embraced her.  

Fersia.

Rung the name in her head, echoing through it, as her closed eyelids and mouth did not allow the world to know of this name and threw the acoustic noise back –over and over again, like a basin of water, through which a constant drum echoed and vibrated time and time again. This name somehow harboured already so many memories – so many more as she ever shared with her sisters in this new life – though she only knew the female for a mere time of two weeks.  

It were two weeks Fersia had spent away from her home –her family- against her will after all. Two weeks that would have not been necessary and Elain could not feel different, than to finally acknowledge the other parasite that kept on nagging at her guts, as she rolled herself in. A small, fragile ball, that lay shattered in this soft bed of feathers as she finally heard the noise of running water. Heavy steps slowly padded over towards the bed. The female merely huffed at her as she placed a porcelain bowl, filled with water, on the top of the dresser – slowly crawling into bed herself as she tried to not disturb the peace of her friend.  

But a curious streak inside her bulky frame could not stand it, as she saw the gleaming eyes of Elain seemingly glowing in the dark. She faced the Illyrian, tears almost overwhelming her sad eyes, like the rain did ever so often with the river that was nearby, as she merely looked at the female that crawled to bed beside her and threw, without a second thought, the soft blanket over both of them.  

“I told you – you can put yourself under the blanket.” whispered her voice carefully into the dark, as she did not know if her voice would hit a crack in her sweet Goldenrods facade and crack it open. Despite the hard work of her sweet friend to keep it up and just look at her with teary eyes, did Elain still not manage to hide the broken sob as she whispered into the soft veil of darkness around them; “I know – I just didn’t want to interfere any more with your privacy.”  Fersia chuckled, as she pulled her sad friend, that almost lay at the edge of the mattress, closer to her and into the middle of the bed, her strong hand still resting on the sweet flowers back as she cuddled closer into Fersia and buried her face in the crock of her neck, where her cold snooty nose grazed the tender flesh of the Illyrian.  

She had to restrain herself from yelping at the sudden feeling of soft coldness, but brushed it off as she buried her friend between her arms and wings. Soft cries escaping from her Goldenrods small body “Are you really sure that everything is fine, Goldenrod?” But she did not say no, not even shook her head as she nodded shakily and slow, as if she herself was not aware of the answer, “Yes. It was just a nightmare – hopefully.” admitted Elain’s voice brokenly as she tried to swallow down the uprising pictures, that seemed to have buried their claws as deep as those of a harpoon inside her mind –not willing to let her go – as all those torn limps, shattered cries and echoing screams vibrated through her shaking body.  

Trying to cling for a bit of sanity, did her pale arms wound around Fersia, holding on to the female as if her life depended on it, though she assumed it was not her life, but her sanity, that depended on her steady being. “What did you dream about then?” asked her the female carefully, mindful of the wounds she knew could be cut open by just a simple innocent question.  

Silence ensued them then, the seer anxious to voice out what she had just seen, but perhaps it was better to talk, perhaps it would be like pulling off a band aid – a long moment of hesitation, before bravery finally decided to pull the sticky material off of the hurting wound, pain always followed, no matter if the band aid was ripped off or slowly peeled off, every inch screaming in pain as the band aid was slowly removed- perhaps it would be just like this, tried Elain to convince herself, as she cuddled closer to her friend.  

No sheet of paper would have fit between them, no force would have been able to part them, but there was this small voice, that whispered many things at her, that would have been reason enough to part from the female. But she didn’t care, not when she needed the heat of another living being, that showed her that there was still life beyond the terrible dream she had. And so, took the seer a shaky breath, a small flower on the wind churning fields standing stiff as a stone compared to her voice.  

“I saw death... there were … dead people – Illyrians.” corrected she her own choose of words quickly. Fersia said nothing, she only pressed her chin further atop her Goldenrods soft head –trying to calm her with a gentle nudge- but no giggle as soft as the wind, like the female hoped would do, broke the dead silence which had cloaked them once again after Elain spoke this shaky sentence, which had set the Illyrian at edge.  

Fersia knew that, since the moment Elain stepped foot onto the grounds of the forest, something kept her bussy, a bit too bussy for the Illyrians taste as she remembered the snow-white face of her friend before she passed out. Something was happening to her, that made the carefree female, that tended to her wounds not so long ago, vanish and replaced her with someone fearful. A delicate creature that seemed to think about every step she took doubled and thrice, but maybe it was better she did so, after all did the female not really have knowledge in the arts of self-defence and combat.  

Only a ragged breath of her sweet Goldenrod, that hit cold against her skin, was able to distract her from the thoughts of worry that slowly started to churn in her mind like a summer storm. “Fersia, I have seen Illyrians run, crawl, jump, beg and plea for their life's as if they were slowly guided into the gates of hell.” whispered Elain’s frightened voice in the dark.  

The pictures she long wanted to forget slowly chasing after her again, just like the cruel creature she had seen smiling, with fangs as long as her arm. A shiver ran down her delicate spine alone at the thought of this, Fersia’s stern voice that had followed after her, did nothing to ease her frayed nerves, as the meaning of her words sank in; “No Illyrian does that – even in front of the devil, do they not plea and beg. Illyrians are a proud folk and we stand to what we have done, Goldenrod, no devil will make us ever regret what we have done. The folk of Illyrians isn’t known to be fearful – after all, most of us don’t even fear death, so it is unlikely that they would beg in front of the devil, furthermore – I think there are higher chances that an Illyrian murder’s the devil and takes the reign in its own hands than to beg.” tried Fersia to joke around, as she knew of the trembling state, in which the delicate female was and this was by far the only thing she could think of doing, though it seemed to have been the wrong thing, as Elains next question had her cold and without an answer – not even a lied one – she could have whispered into the sweet darkness around them.  “So, it was something worse than the devil?”  

“I don’t know.” was all Fersia could admit as she let the seconds pass to minuets and let silence ensue them. This was simply the only answer the Illyrian could think of, for she knew that the light of her sweet sunshine was already dimmed enough. Elain did not need another cloud as dark as the shadows lurking above her head, the seer had already enough of them lurking and waiting behind her. This was a worry she should not face, one that should not be burden upon her delicate shoulders as even some of the female Illyrians here had their struggle with facing what had long come for them, dragging her sweet Goldenrod into this was something neither of them needed right now.  

Fersia was, after all, already worried enough of the seer as she knew that she was a helpless little fawn that might own a dagger, but had no clue how to use it, though there had been times were she had proven her talent with this simple blade of hers. Though there were also times in which she hesitated to grab the hilt of her dearest belonging –like she told her friend once- and searched for another solution instead. A sweet little fault she searched and used in any situation of violence or danger she faced, where others would have long drawn the master piece of a dagger.  

There was always a long hesitation whenever she dared to wield the beautiful blade, that seemed to swallow up the light as the sweet sunrays had caressed the light silver and traced the delicate runes that meandered down the middle of the knifes blade. It had caught Fersia’s breath the first time she saw it, a piece – a fracture- of sunshine, for a sweet shining ray that respected the life of everything and did not care for who it was that needed her help – not even if that someone who needed her help was a poison spitting Illyrian that bled out on the floor and still hissed at the delicate female to go her day and mind her own business.  

A low rumble of a chuckle echoed through Fersia’s chest as she remembered that fateful day, were the last she had seen were the determined glowing eyes of that sweet female, that now lay shaking in her arms. It hadn’t taken the Illyrian long to change the topic as their encounter still lingered fresh, like a bouquet of flowers, in her mind; “How was your stroll through the forest, sweet Goldenrod.” “It was fine …" answered the seer with hesitation, before she added “I had seen many herbs I could use for medicine.”  

The Illyrian could only give way to this low chuckle that bubbled from her, as she pressed her chin softly further atop her silky hair that seemed to tickle her nose trills with her sweet smell of lavender, though a salty note of sweat seemed to cloak a bit of the scent, it still was the one of her Goldenrod. “I see, ever the mindful healer.” it was meant as a light, playful attempt to light the atmosphere that seemed to grow heavier and heavier as the glowing embers gave past to a mellow cloak of darkness, that seemed to drown out any light from outside, but Elain went stiff as a board at those words. Her soft hands digging lightly into the skin little below the stems of Fersia’s wings as she muttered “I am not that much of a thoughtful healer.”

“Why would you say that, dearest?” voiced Fersia her thoughts softly out as she drew back and carefully pried the face of her sweet friend up by the chin to meet her gaze, but those soft eyes of Elain’s were anywhere and everywhere, just not on the worried face of the female that hugged her so tenderly. “Elain?”  

“Please don’t get mad at me, promise?” the seers voice was shaky for she knew that was due to the nagging feeling at her guts as the thought settled in that she was to tell the truth now and only now. “I promise.” spoke Fersia with a soft voice and a slowly nodding head. Swallowing down the poisonous feeling of guilt did the seer speak of what she had hidden even from the ears of her dear friend “Fersia, I could have long let you go home after I had healed your wounds, but I didn’t want to part ways with you so soon – since you were since quite some time the first real friend I had again – and I really enjoyed my time with you. But since you got so well soon, I got scared that you would leave right away and I panicked and then I made you a globeflower tea.” spoke the seer in a fast voice, rushing only some of the words, she held back, out. But Fersia only chuckled as Elain added embarrassed “And I am really, really sorry that I had made you stay so long against your own will.”

“Goldenrod, it’s fine. I enjoyed the time I had spent with you too and besides – this was my first holiday since, maybe three centuries?” questioned the female herself. It was really too long for her to remember when her last holiday was, after all, her tribe always counted on her and her services as well as her cautious eye, that no one else seemed to have as all her family only saw the thick branches of the trees in the forest and never a lurking creature behind a stem, that only waited for their prey, so it was the best to never take a holiday. Never would the Illyrian have imagined that she would have to take a holiday like this – half dead and yet cared for by a sunshine incarnate, which she had the pleasure of taking home.  

Though Elain’s sweet voice rang complaining through the air, it did nothing to bother the Illyrian of the fact what this wicked little female had done. Elain did not need other allegations, as she already had enough served on her own plate “But Fersia – it's not fine. I used my knowledge of herbal lore against you and was the worst friend I could ever be to you, only because I was afraid to be left alone again.” “Elain, I don’t think you could ever be alone. After all, the sun is never alone too and you most certainly are the sun to me, so it would wonder me if you said you were alone, furthermore you seemed fond of your family – whenever you talked about them.”  

“My family …" whispered Elain quietly as she remembered in a far distance all these faces she had left behind. Her sweet younger sister, who always seemed to have a loving gaze and kind smile on her face, whenever she even thought of her dearest mate, who had welcomed the seer so welcomingly among his table and family, Rhysand, who always seemed ready to jump into action for those he loved. The High Lord is a good male, remembered the seer herself thinking all this time ago, and even after these years she still felt the same about him – he was the right one for her sister. Rhysand had gifted her sanity where others would have long gone mad and even though these times – in which Feyre was close to madness – were long before the seer was even thrown into the Cauldron, she still was able to see the dead eyes of her sister. The quiet grey sea, that had long given up hope as she did not know what –or who- to believe as she only was a playball back then and did not dare to think herself as worthy of anything, but the High Lord of Night – whose worried and empty violet eyes – like a starless night in Velaris- had haunted her for so many nights, as Elain knew that he too had struggled with himself, as he did not dare to think that this life he had now, was something he deserved as he had seen back then the dead silence in Feyre’s eyes. To have them both so happy and looking at each other so lovingly, was something both deserved since a very long time, and yet the seer could not help but feel the nagging in her guts, as she knew the churning sea of salt in her little sisters' eyes as soon as she heard of her passing. 

‘It had to be.’ tried Elain to convince herself, as she tried to recall all the other faces. The scolding silver eyes of Amren –her mentor- whenever she casted a wrong spell during their lessons still haunting her from time to time, as they did nothing but to conjure a smile upon her face, as this stern, strong voice of the female –that loved to stand and pace with her arms in her hips- rung in those pointed ears of hers. The seer did not have many memories with the golden Truth-teller Morrigan, but she remembered the golden gleam in her eyes and the silver one in Feyre’s eyes, whenever they went out in the ever-buzzing city. She was a mystery to the seer, but all she could imagine from her, was what the Shadowsinger gave way ever so absentmindly whenever he had deemed it as right to visit her in this quiet garden of hers and lose himself among the many vines, leaves and branches.  

Perhaps it was this look in his ever so beautiful hazel eyes, whenever he talked about the female, that made her heart sting. Though this sting was nothing compared to the one she felt when she thought of their last change of words, that had made her feel so cruel and heartless, that she was not able to face this kind male, who only wanted the best for her, ever again. His ever-gleaming eyes a stream of quicksilver that meandered through the rich brown inside his eyes, that reminded her with the specks of dark green, of the deepest nature. His eyes a portrait painted by the mother, to always remember the nature he was denied for so long and yet did she destroy this peaceful painting as she yelled at him “ I thought you, of all people, would understand at least a little bit!” The seer flinched as her own cruel words rang through her ears like a heavy drum, that seemed to reach every part with in herself that already felt sorry for so long. Yet she never dared to speak to him again, did never dare to change another word with him again for she did not know how much she would hurt him or have the strength to make him believe that he –the most caring male, with a heart of gold, caged in a cell of shadows that did not seem to writher under her dim light of happiness she tried to cast on him, though she herself did not even believe an ounce of this played brightness – deserved to have company and had just as much right to be by her side as Lucien.  

But his flinch, when she had thrown these words at him, still remained between them as he backed away day for day further from her and left her. Thinking that it would be the best for the sweet seer to stay out of his realm of shadows, fearing that she might see parts of him he himself did not acknowledge yet as he also had anxiety creep through his bones that he could upset her again.  

Azriel had not wanted to hurt her by gifting her this dagger, had not meant to pry in the wound as he had sought her out after Solstice, did only want the best for her as he wanted her to have at least a little weapon with which she could defend herself, but he believed her when she had yelled at him that he not understood, did not know of her pain, but he did. And still he had not fought back as the seer hurt him worse than she could have ever done with the beautiful dagger that had rested in her palms.

A sob tore from her lungs as she saw him leaving again and again and again – never returning.

She hated herself for this, hated herself that she had only seen the eyes of her family after this encounter under a thin veil of grey. The black eyes of Nuala and Cerridwen only black stones to her, as this veil of dust had swallowed up all the emotions that were ever hidden in their obsidian eyes.  

Sobbing did the seer remember everything she had left behind, as she clung to the anchor who had brought her in this new world and promised her sanity.  

“What is it, Goldenrod?” asked her Fersia worriedly as she pat her soft her slowly. “Nothing, it’s just … I had remembered their faces again.” “Of the died Illyrians?” “Yes.” lied Elain, as she did not want to tell the Illyrian just yet what was truly on her mind.  

“It’s fine Elain, you know nothing can hurt you here, right?” “Of course.” whispered the seer into the settled silence of night, as all the warmth around her came from the female that clung to her like a baby to a teddy bear, the gleaming embers long having died down to grey ashes as the two females clung to one another as if their life depended on it.  

And even though Elain knew, that her mind had not carried her to the dead faces, she still could not help but to wonder what the stern voice in the forest had wanted from her; Strange things happen on these grounds, too much blood –on both sides- had drenched this earth in the past months. They need each other’s help, only with combined forces will they be able to find the source of poison, that is seeping into every root and leave around here.  

Perhaps she knew what the voice wanted. Perhaps she long had an idea in the back of her mind as the churning voice had settled around her, but perhaps she was just scared to feel this feeling – this searing feeling, that seemed to burn her flesh off of her living being- again.  

But maybe this was the only solution to her questions and Fersia seemed to be the only key that could open the door to her answers. “Fersia?” “Yes?” mumbled the large female into her hair. “I want to meet you Mother again.” said Elain sternly. She did not allow doubt to creep into her thin voice, as the small quivering of her lips was all she deemed as right. The Illyrian only nodded groggily at the sweet female as she simply voiced; “Then we will need every ounce of sleep we can get, you know, she can be a lot of trouble sometimes.” chuckled Fersia into the dark  

Elain only nodded as their voice seemed to have become one in the darkness, through which tiredness slowly weaved their hand, like a lover walking hand in hand; “Good night.” was the last the two females voiced.  

Though they both knew, sleep did not come easy for liars.  

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So, hi everyone and I am all wishing you a lot of love for Valentines day😘😘❤❤. I actually had planned so much for this day, but school sadly kept me troubled and I just had not the time to write as much as I wanted. And yes, I know that this is not really Valentines like, but it was sadly all I could afford. I am hoping that what I had planed for this day will be ready at easter, beacause I don’t plan on updating it one by one, but all together. 

I still hope you had a lot of fun with this chap. and hope to have you thrilled for the next one (though I do have to admit, the end is a bit rushed, or? What do you think?)

Taglist (please tell me if you want to be added or removed):

@tanaquilpriscilla​

@generousfanfan​

@hail-doodles​

@courtofjurdan​

@classywastelandpirate​

@heirofthrnightcourt004​

@autophobiaxx​

[alliesweetsong]

Under the Moonlight

There hadn't been a day that she could remember since the war had begun that Allue had slept all through the night. Long before she had truly been witness first hand to the horrors of war, the recurring nightmares of her encounter with a warlock plagued her sleep. Now even that single event didn't seem to phase her even on nights like this, where her body and mind refused to relax.

Despite the curtains being drawn, moonlight flooded into her room through the crease of the fabrics casting long shadows on the furniture as she stared at the wall. How long she had been awake was anybody's guess including hers. The thought alone brought a frustrated sigh from her lips while she threw the blankets from her bare form. Walking to a nearby chair she grabs the robe Rian had provided her and slips it over her shoulders, tying off the fabric around her midsection. 

Typically when she couldn’t sleep, a walk around Boralus’s waterfront would do the trick. The ships in the harbor and personnel ferrying equipment and goods on and off them seemed to bring calm to her. Right now, that wasn’t an option for the woman, but after a small stroll down the hall to check on her sleeping son, the ranger began to hear the faint melody coming from an adjacent room from a piano. Curious who could be playing at this time of the night, she lofts an eyebrow and heads towards the music. 

The magus had kept his distance from the bustle of the manor, usually tucked away in a study or his room while others waded through the common areas. Once everyone had gone to bed or so he'd thought did he take a quiet leave from the modest room. The soft thud-tap of his steps echoed along the wood floors and down the stairs to the common room below. 

Dressed in little more than dark loose breeches and an untucked linen shirt, dark unkempt tresses hung just below his shoulders. Calloused fingers hovered over the ivories of the piano, hesitant to find the peace they often brought. He'd been the image of a scholar when he'd left on his mission to research Azerite. On his return the young baron held a worn appearance, more muscle and new scars mostly mended though they served as reminders of his time in orcish captivity. 

Silence had filled the halls a long while till the absent tapping of his steps was replaced by the quiet sound of the piano coming to life in the den below. The melody was nothing overly exciting, but rather a soft thrum more fitting for the night that's fallen over the grove.

(Mood Music)

As she made her way from the nursery down the hallway in the direction of the music, Allie pulled the robe tighter to maintain a modicum of decency around whoever was flooding the home with such hauntingly beautiful melodies. As she steps into the den and spots the dark haired man behind the keyboard. The melody was soothing to her and she didn’t wish to interrupt his playing. Opting to instead to take a seat nearby and just listen to the music. 

Though Theron felt the presence enter the room, he kept on with his playing assuming it only Rian with another lecture. Pretending he'd not heard or known she was there was easier than indulging what felt like a fruitless conversation. Part of the melody picked up if only briefly before returning to its softer resonance letting his own emotion flow from his thoughts to his fingers and into the music.  The last little came slower until with a final breath the last key was struck. 

The man was quiet a long moment before canting his head to the side, speaking over his shoulder without looking back, "I'm really not in the mood for another lecture." The tone was firm but not unkind, most telling of a weary soul.

Allie just sat there entranced by the gorgeous music and skill the human was exhibiting. The song was haunting in some parts, yet exciting towards the end before she felt the emotion as the final key was struck. Lofting a brow upwards though at the statement she let the quiet linger for a few seconds before inhaling softly. 

"I don't see any reason why I should lecture you after a gorgeous piece like that." she replies softly and warmly. "Surely that will be in my head when I attempt to sleep once more." she finishes with a soft smile. 

"I don't believe we have met before, are you one of the servants here?"

Theron gazed down at the keys before the voice answered his and found it to be one he'd not expected. Turning, brows furrowed as they found the elven woman confused. Not without some sense of manners Theron took up his cane and found his feet to offer a hastened bow of his head and chest, "My apologies Miss, I thought you were my sister."

When he rose up to meet her gaze once more, "I hope I didn't wake you, I was careless and forgot we had company." Lips quirked slightly though he held a solemn gaze as she asked just who he was. He'd lost track of how long he'd been gone, expecting anyone in the home  to recognize him when he hardly recognized himself seemed a silly notion, "I am, yes." While he knew she meant something entirely different, it was in his mind the truth.

Though she looked like a High Elf, the soft spectral echo in Allie’s voice would betray what she truly was as she laughs softly and bows her head in return to his own bow. "No, atleast I don't think I'm your sister, your ears aren't long enough." she replies with a chuckle. 

"My name is Allie Sweetsong, I'm a friend of the uh, owner, Rian." she replies lofting an eyebrow unsure if she was using the proper common there. 

"Ah! that makes sense, you must play for company and such?" she replies not assuming he was in fact a servant.

A huffed laugh met her chuckle, as he shook his head, "Ha.. No you're certainly not my sister. The eyes are a little different." He lifted a hand upward gesturing two fingers towards his own eyes then at her. 

Swaying some where he stood as she introduced herself, he decided to let the omission of his own name continue. At least a little while longer. "It is a pleasure Miss Sweetsong. The lady of the house hasn't had much company aside from this new suitor of hers. It's good to see she's expanding the doors a bit further."

He gave a nod at her assumption, "I do sometimes. Though truth be told I've not had anyone really to play for for a few years now. Probably for the best given it's only been recently I've been able to find hints of inspiration again." Theron lifted the cane and gave a tap to his leg he avoided putting the weight on.

Allie smiles brightly as the man brings a hand to his eyes and nods in agreement before her attention turned to the leg and cane slightly frowning. "Did you fight in the war as well?" she inquires tilting her head to the side as she leans back to get comfortable beginning to unfold her arms no longer feeling like she was in any sort of danger. 

"Lady Rian is one of my best friends. I can say I wouldn't be the person I am today without her wisdom, or her strength. I feel horrible I couldn't give her my company sooner, and now we have...this mess." she replies waving a hand in the direction of the woodline. 

Humming in thought letting that fester she gently shrugs. "You can play for me, i found that song to be beautiful, and soothing."

"A few of them. Though this last... I wasn't exactly a willing participant." HE confessed. "I do not recommend playing party to orcish camps." His words had hesitated before he simply cleared his throat and chose to speak on something else entirely. 

"Not your fault, there's quite a few who used to frequent and do not so much. In part for their lives being full of their own adventures or...  Part of me wonders if she's pushed people away. Not that it's any of my business or place to say." 

As she waved off, Theron glimpsed towards the boarded up windows, knowing full well what lay on the other side and beyond, regarding the elven woman's intent. "There always seems to be another brewing." His attention drew back to the woman as she requested he continue his playing. Bowing his head, though when he spoke, he did so in her home language, "As the lady wishes."

Once more Theron settled himself back to the Piano and settled his cane along the upper ledge. "I apologize if my playing is a little rusty." He offered a small smile before settling into a new melody for Allie.

(Mood Music)

Allie bites her lip remembering her own run in with being a forced participant in a camp. "I'm sorry you had to endure that. No one should play part to an orc war camp unwillingly." she replies before she falls silent while he begins to resume playing once more. 

Inhaling Allie couldn't help but smile as he spoke to her in her native language. "A human with education." she replies in Thalassian not straightening up some. "Rare to find someone who can speak elven fluently outside of Silvermoon." she continues in common obviously impressed. 

Though she did take note of his mentioning of Rian potentially pushing others away she made a mental note of it deciding best not to let heavy conversation bring down the magnificent song coming from his fingertips. 

"How did you end up serving Lady Rian and the house being so well educated?" she asks curiously

There was a subtle shake of his head at the apology for the mention of the camp. Letting the comment rest where it fell. A small smile pulled at the scruff along his chin as he managed to smile a little. Holding to the language for the woman's sake, "I did some growing in Dalaran. My mother insisted I know the language if I was to do some schooling there."

He continued to play a moment more before her last question brought the music to pause. Considering his words, he glimpsed back at Allie, "You could say we sort of grew up together. Here. In Dalaran. In Hearthglen. I'm no good for war at present, she's let me come here. Nearly insisted on it." He chuckled softly as he continued to play quietly for the woman

Allie's smile turned to a blush as he continued to talk in Thalassian.  It wasn't everyday she ran into a human who could actually speak her own language, and while she thought if she had ever met anybody who could do so fluently he mentioned Dalaran. 

"The city of Mages? I've heard stories though I can't think of a time I have been there myself. I would see its glow on the horizon when I ventured from Quel'thalas as a small girl." she replies warmly. "I would hear tales of how beautiful it was, rivaled only by Silvermoon itself, but I never got a chance to see it." she replies remembering fondly. 

Letting that thought steep for a moment she smiles now and nods in agreement. "So you two are childhood friends?" she asks in a curious manner. Yup he really had her believing he was a man servant "And that certainly sounds like her. Everytime we would see each other, She would always extend an invitation to come to her home."

Most of the magus' attention held on the piano, leaving him ignorant of her blushing demeanor. He gave a rocking nod as she asked about Dalaran. "Mhmm.  We had both started at he academy. Her ladyship fought for a different path. It's not for everyone of course."

He gave an agreeing nod, "It is lovely, and the rumor is true. Not that I've seen more than pictures of Silvermoon. But I've ventured to Quel Danas once or twice. I have assumed it is similar to the same thing."

When she continued to press about his sister he wavered with a so-so  gesture. "Not always but once we were older. We had a fair bit in common despite a mutual distrust of each other." He chuckled. "She likes taking care of people and playing the part of the hero. I'm guessing you two have that in common?"

The void elf hums before shrugging. "I wouldn't consider myself a hero. I just...enjoy helping others. Even if it has landed me in some...troubling situations." she replies smiling at the hand wave. "But yes, I do believe we share a common bond to make sure those around us are safe, healthy, and above all alive." she replies now leaning forward. 

"Wait, are you saying you went to the school of mages in Dalaran? And you're a servant?" she re-iterates mentally pressing x to doubt

"Surely there is more to the story than just being something of a guardian to a childhood friend." she replies humming as she leans her head back against the chair smiling at the beautiful music

"Does any hero that is worthy of the title ever truly accept and acknowledge that they are indeed a hero?" his counter came inquisitive with a more pointed look towards the elf as his hands continued to run the lines he'd memorized years prior. 

Focusing back on the music he let his eyes close in welcome distraction before letting off a chuckle of his own, "Dalaran has many schools, not just for mages. It just happens that is the path I studied for." His playing stopped for a moment enough that he lifted his hand to pinch the bridge of his noes and wipe some of the humor from his face, leaving some though more even tempered. 

"There is always more to the story. Always. Mage is simply a skill or pursuit in many cases. I could be a writer and still be a servant. Or a marksman..." He lilted a glance towards her. Had he heard of the woman before their meeting? Or been eavesdropping it was hard to say. Perhaps it had simply been a guess at her own skillset.

"Servitude is usually a matter of perspective. I have served the King as a soldier. I have served the Kirin Tor as much the same. Now I serve the people of my home and do so with much fuss despite it being an honor."

Allie thinks on the question the musically inclined mage posed to her as her eyebrows furrowed in thought while pulling her her legs under her form getting more relaxed as the conversation continued. 

"Well no, I suppose not.." she reluctantly agrees before shrugging. "I never wanted a title of 'hero' I just wanted to show people that if a small elven girl who watched her people decimated could grow strong and help others, so to could they." she replies with a shrug before her eyes go wide. 

"Wait how did you know?" she asks of him now when he makes the comment about a marksmen

Though she chuckles "Oh so now its your house?" she asks in a taunting manner "I know you're not Kenric, or erm, the other human I met some years back serving as her guard." she replies having already long put Thaylynns name out of her memory. 

"Seriously, who are you?" she inquries

Theron continued to play as the elven woman worked through her answers. When she questioned his regard for the house, he pressed against a small grin. "I would never claim to be Kenric or any other men Rian's claimed as a suitor. Though I never said it was my house, just that this is home. I could very well just as easily implied that this land is my home." He countered. 

"Who am I? Not satisfied with my simply being a servant to the household?" Hands mindfully worked through the last few notes of the song before he redirected his attentions more properly on Allie. "My name is Theron, if that is what you wish to know."

The reply gives Allie a pause as she just looks at him trying to place if the name and relation to Rian, a look Theron would likely pick up on. Inhaling deep and clearly confused she shrugs. "Theron, that name sounds vaguely familiar," she replies ignoring his first comment for now. "Like I saw you on a report, or someone mentioned the name to me at some point." she replies frowning as she clearly couldn't remember

"Regardless, it is nice to meet you, and listen to your talents, I haven't felt this at ease in oh...awhile." she replies. shaking her head 

"So you studied to be a mage, you can fluently speak to Quel'dorei in their native tongue, and you are experienced at playing music. Either Rian purposely hires well educated help or you are purposely being vague, to which I don't understand why you would be." she replies as the gears in her head spin.

The magus watched Allie try to sort out who he was. That she hadn't pinpointed him by now had him both intrigued as well as relieved. "It is not an uncommon name in truth. There are at least three others I have passed with the name in Stormwind." he admitted. 

"It is my pleasure, Miss Sweetsong." He reached for his cane letting it rest idly with his palms curled over the top. "Perhaps a little of both. Rian doesn't much care for education in the sense that the world does. She sees actions as qualifiers. Not terribly unlike myself. Though I should apologize for being vague. Please know that I do have my reasons. It is easier to gain a more genuine interaction when there is not the wait of expectation that comes with names."

"If you'd like the truth of it, my mother was a magister, professor at the academy for a time. Thus the education, the expectation of learning other languages, in particular those known to better call on arcane. There was also a requirement that we learn an instrument. Small odds and ends she thought we needed to be rounded out." There was a roll of his shoulders as if it wasn't as much as it may have seemed to be. 

"I should not keep you any longer. I'm sure keeping up with a little one leaves you wanting in terms of rest." The man eased upward with the aide of the cane.

Still trying to process things, in part due to the time of night it was, Allie inhales and places a hand on the robe so as to maintain a level of decency in front of the man, she uncurls her legs from under her form and rises to her feet with him giving him a proper bow of her head.

"It has been a pleasure Lord Theron," She replies in kind. Hoping she was not disrespecting the human by addressing him with a title that ill suits him

"Though i do understand now, but I hope with time you'll see I am like Rian in a similar manner. I care not for the history of the name of someone. I only care if their intentions are for the boon of others, or to bring others down around them. I would like to speak more  during my time here. As I stated before Rian is a dear friend of mine. And if she trusts you to walk the halls of her home at all hours of the night and play the piano, I too will do so in kind." she replies warmly. 

"I do hope you trust me during my time here, I love learning about others. Their histories, where they have been." she finishes with a bow and a chuckle. "He has been good the last few days, though that is in no small part because of the new surroundings we find ourselves in, I suspect he will test the limits of my energy in a few days." she states while walking to the door she entered through. 

"Sleep well, Theron." 

And with that the Ren'dorei departed, heading to her chambers once more to attempt sleep, humming the melody she had listened to the man play the entire time.

A brow lofted as she used his title, it was enough that he assumed she'd sorted out just who he was. As she prattled on about how similar she was to his sister, he offered a small smile. "You do not need to sell me on her qualities. Or feel the need to measure yourself against her. So you know. We all have our flaws." A finger was waved in Allie's direction. 

"I'm sure we will cross paths again Miss Sweetsong." With that he bowed his head more formally to mach the slight change in her demeanor as she excused herself. "Blessed dreams to you as well." 

Only when she was well out of sight and on her way did the Lord see himself from the den. Taking an alternate route to his quarters rather than give himself away through the halls.

Thank you @theron-valteric​ for writing this with me​

@lady-rian​ for mentions

[writingsbychlo]

heart under construction (01)

word count; 5142

summary; jake notices sam’s feelings way before sam does, and plays match-maker.

notes; suuuuper cute. I know it’s not all that exciting, it’s really just an introduction to the series to lay some groundwork.

warnings; none!

Swiping his thumb over the screen, Sam worried his lower lip between his teeth as he tried to choose a photo. The problem was, they were all pretty good selfies, if he was being totally honest. The girl who had messaged him was extremely attractive, the sort of attractive that had knocked Sam’s breath straight from his lungs at the picture he had received from her two minutes ago, and now she was waiting on a reply. 

Settling on his third option, he hit send, the content smirk on his face quickly being wiped away as he felt a huff behind him, the shadow that he hadn't realised had been looming over him was finally shifting and he spun around, a slight heat rising to his cheeks as he realised his brother had caught him in the act. Jake merely scoffed, rolling his eyes and moving away to begin lugging equipment from the truck, and yet, Sam couldn’t find it within himself to follow his brother out of the house and down the pathway as his phone buzzed, notifying him of a response from the beauty he had been speaking to.

His fingers dashed across the keyboard on his phone as he carefully crafted a flirty response, in hopes of landing himself a date that night, and he was so preoccupied, he didn’t even register the sounds of his brother’s voice taking up in conversation until a lighter laugh cut through the air. Glancing up, your back was facing him, but there was no mistaking you. The same colour hair that had preoccupied his mind the entire day before, the same sweet-sounding voice that had been ringing in his ears was back, and suddenly, he was finishing his text as soon as possible, shoving his phone deep into his pocket as he took off down the pathway to you.

When Jake’s eyes left your face to see him approaching, you turned, a wide smile on your face as you looked at him and he couldn’t help but return it. The expression didn’t last long, however, as he caught sight of the purple bruise that had blossomed on the side of your forehead. Angry and slightly swollen, the mark was prominent against your skin and guilt once again flooded his system as he came to a stop before you, Jake’s voice pouring out apologies on his behalf, and he even threw another on of his own out as he looked at the bruise. 

“That looks really bad. Shit! I can’t believe I did that!” He finally dragged his gaze away from the injury he’d caused, his eyes finding yours, your smile still prominent as your shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. 

“Hey, it’s totally okay, don’t worry!” You nudged his shoulder a little as you spoke, a small chuckle leaving you. “I think it makes me look badass, actually.”

His own laughter followed, the sides of his eyes crinkling at the sudden amusement and he shook his head fondly at your words. “Fancy yourself a little streetfighter or something then, huh?” With a clap on the shoulder and a nod of the head, Jake was walking past him, a slight smirk that Sam couldn't decipher sitting on his lips but he didn’t focus on it, instead, turning his attention back to you. Your brow crinkled as you laughed, a low ‘ow’ slipping from your lips as you did, and your hand hovered over your face as you tried to contain your giggles. 

Without thinking, Sam lifted his hand, his fingers brushing the stray pieces of hair back from your face and tucking them behind your ear as the pads of his fingers skimmed lightly over the damaged flesh, your eyes watching him carefully, wide and wondering before he realised what he was doing, red heat creeping along his skin as he pulled his hand back.

“I really can’t tell you how sorry I am. I’m a fucking idiot.” You merely rolled your eyes at his self-deprecating comment, reaching out and taking the hand he had just dropped back to his side in your own, squeeing lightly and his fingers twitched, curling around your own gently and holding on. 

“I told you, it’s fine, I’m fine!” Your grip on him had loosened, only a single finger still linked with his as your barely-connected hands hung between the two of you, and he dropped his head in shame, eyes focusing on his hand just slightly holding onto yours as you spoke. “Do you think this is the first bump I’ve been given? I work with kids, they like to smash things against your head all the time. I’ve been clocked with a Thomas the Tank Engine, kicked in the ribs, you name it. I’m totally okay.”

He let out a sigh, tilting his head back up to look at you as your stern gaze looked into his until he eventually nodded, forgiving himself for his accidental assault on your head as he let a smile break through. “How did your meeting go?”

“It went really well!” Your face lit up at his words, and he felt proud of himself for remembering to ask, seeing the joy on your face that he recollected your meeting had been plenty reward for him, the same expression reflecting on his own features. “We got the funding we needed, which means I can start my planning for our big event, which is very exciting. All the parent representatives were on board, it went without a hitch. I was really happy with the outcome, couldn’t have asked for better!”

He wanted to ask you more, he just wanted to hear you talk, the excitement in your voice as you shared your day with him was something he would never grow tired of, his grin only dulling slightly as he watched you glance down at your watch, eyes widening before looking back up to him. 

“Oh, wow, I really have to go. It was lovely to see you again, and don’t worry, the bump is nothing, really!” Your touch finally left him entirely, the finger you’d had linked delicately with one of his was torn away as you spun on your heel, granting him one final shining beam before you were taking hurried steps down the street and away from him once again. He watched you go, hearing a sharp whistle from beside him and he glanced up to the door of the house, his brother giving him an incredulous look, mouthing the words ‘her name, moron!’ at him, and Sam’s eyes widened, his feet moving below him as he took off after you in a quick jog.

Locking an arm on your elbow, he spun you back to face him, your expression slightly shocked as he gave you a sheepish smile, retracting his hand and letting you turn to fully face him yourself, you eyebrows raised in silent question. “I- um.. what’s your name?”

Your head tipped to the side, that same beautiful smile he was quickly growing very fond of making a small appearance as you held your hand out for him. “(Y/N). My name is (Y/N).”

Slipping his hand into yours, he shook it firmly, enjoying the way your hand felt holding his once again, even if it was only for the briefest of moments. “I’m Sam. That up there is my brother, Jake.”

“It’s lovely to meet you both. I’ll see you soon, I hope?” You were pulling away once again, and no matter how much he wanted you to stay, he had to let you go, instead choosing to nod happily as he watched you take a few steps backwards.

“Yeah, I hope so, too.”

Once again, you plagued the man’s thoughts. Your sweet nature, your smile and your sense of humour carried him on a high and light mood throughout the entire afternoon. Even when he has dropped a plank of wood on his foot, and even when he was arranging the date he had been awarded for this morning’s flirting attempts, he was smiling as you lingered in the back of his mind. 

The hours had dragged by, and while they had got a considerable amount done in real terms it still looked like nothing. The pair of brothers had spent the morning measuring and mapping out the place where the new extension would be built, having to change their minds on the placement and shape what had to have been ten times before Sam had decided he was happy with it. 

Once they had their markers in place, the heavy manual labour of actually beginning to clear out that section of the garden had commenced. Hours of digging, dragging and drilling later, they had removed two tree stumps, dug down into the ground and marked out their foundations, and officially worn themselves out. All that work, and it just looked like a half-dug hole in the ground. 

He knew it was a remarkable progression for one day, but he hated this part, because it looked like nothing, even though logically, he knew it was everything.

Rolling his shoulders, he eased his head from side to side as he looked down and over the edge of the ledge he was sitting on, his legs dangling from one of the holes where they had taken out the windows in order to replace them with new ones, his feet swinging freely from the second floor of the large house as his brother sat beside him. Unwrapping his sandwich, he groaned in excitement for the food, his stomach rumbling as if to emphasise the toll that the actions of the day had taken on his appetite. Clearly, Jake felt the same, because he was practically inhaling his food beside him, loud chewing and scarfing of food sounding out from the father beside him.

Taking a glance at his watch, he was shocked to see that it was only just ticking past four o’clock, he felt like they had worked late into the evening, and was shocked to see it was still midafternoon. Just as he ducked his head to pick up his meal, his eyes caught onto movement down on the street, and he let himself take the chance to look, his mood picking up considerably as he realised just who was walking past. 

Looking down at your phone, you had a slight pep in your step as you strolled up the street, your shoulders slumped slightly from your own exhaustion of the day, and he paused, his food halfway to his mouth as he watched you walk past the house. Not sensing his brothers gaze on him, he snapped himself out of it with a small shake of the head and a clear of his throat, taking a large bite from his lunch and humming happily as the food hit his tongue.

He practically choked when he swallowed, however, when your name was called out loudly from the man beside him, and he watched you jump slightly in shock, spinning around as you surveyed the ground around you, coming up empty and clear of other people. Sam’s head whipped around to look at his brother as he coughed up his mouthful, brows furrowed as you finally looked up to see the two of them, a hand covering your eyes from the sun as you spotted them, smiling and waving up to them from so far down below.

“Hey, (Y/N)! You want to come join Sam for lunch?”

“Dude, what?” 

His hissed out words were ignored by his brother and he choked down his bite of sandwich, eyes wide as his brother continued to ignore him, looking to you instead. “Uh, up there?”

“Yeah! I was just finishing my own, but I’m sure Sam would love the company.” You seemed hesitant, your eyes raking over the ladder before you as you took a few steps up the property pathway, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, and Sam unconsciously lifted a hand to rest atop the ladder and steady it. “I have a chocolate bar you can have to make up for my brother hitting you yesterday?”

You merely laughed at his brother’s attempts at bribery, shrugging off your coat and bag to hang them on a nearby standing metal rod, looking up at the two of them as you set your hands on the ladder. “You had me at chocolate.” Looking at the metal under your hands cautiously, you took a deep breath before mumbling a ‘fuck it’ under as you exhaled and began to climb. 

Holding his hand out for you, Jake helped pull you the rest of the way up, letting you take a seat beside Sam, your thigh pressed against his, your shoulders bumping as you adjusted yourself in the space of the empty window frame, taking the relinquished chocolate from his brother, who was quick to shoot him a wink and disappear down the ladder.

“Uh, hey..” He coughed, covering the slight tremble of uncertainty that had been carried on his voice, choosing to occupy himself by continuing with his meal, watching as you unwrapped the candy in your hand with a happy expression. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he shuffled awkwardly at the sudden sensation, your face finally turning to face him and just like that, all his anxiety and tension slipped away. 

“This is a hell of a view.”

He nodded, chewing faster and swallowing his mouthful as he let his gaze flicker out to glance each roof of every other house on the lower sitting area and out to the horizon. “It really is. You should see the view from the other side, it looks out onto all these beautiful fields and- well, of course you know, you live here, but it’s stunning. Really.”

“I would love to see that! I imagine it’s a really beautiful sight.” You snapped off a piece of the candy, a sigh leaving you as you glanced around the inside, scanning an inquisitive gaze over all their work equipment. “So, who’s house it? Are my new neighbours going to be nice?”

You elbowed him gently at the joke, and he chuckled, pushing the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and thinking over his reply before he gave it to you, settling into a comfortable silence in the meantime as you eagerly awaited his response. “It’s mine, actually. I bought it, I saw it online and I had so many ideas about what to do with it. I’m going to do it up and flip it, put it on the market for more, I think.”

Your jaw dropped, nodding at his words as you thought it over, a sound of agreement leaving you. “Makes sense. You must’ve gotten it for a right steal, too. It really fell apart while it wasn’t being looked after, but I bet you will do an amazing job making it look all pretty and presentable again. How long do you think it’ll take you? I mean, there is only two of you.”

“Eh, maybe six months? Me and my brother make a pretty good team. Always have.” Your eyes twinkled as he spoke, the soft awwing that left your mouth had a familiar blush coating his cheeks, and you both looked down to see his brother on the phone in the truck, talking happily to his family.

“I’m impressed! I’ve always loved this house. I’ve lived here since I was a kid, but nobody has ever moved in, so I never got a chance to see it in all its glory. It’ll be nice to see it be made into something beautiful.” 

Mulling over his decision, he scrunched up his wrappers and threw them into a nearby bucket for waste and scrapings, standing up and brushing himself down as he backed away into the house, looking back at you over his shoulder with a smirk. “Come one then, I have to show you around your dream house. Give you the grand tour, and all that.”

You jumped up, a small laugh leaving him at your enthusiasm as you brushed the stray dust from your pants and followed after him, wobbling slightly on the loose floorboards. 

“Right, we’ll do this backward since we’re already on the top floor.” Gesturing around himself, he dragged you to the middle of the room so he could turn you to show off the space. “The top floor here is pretty much open plan. Or, it will be. I’m picturing it being the main bedroom, and a big one. I want to knock almost all of the walls though, and put some exposed support beams across the top to give it sort of a classic vibe. The stairs come right up into the room, and I’m picturing a big closet in the corner, walk-in with shelves and built-in wardrobes.” 

“I would put a bed, a big one right up against that wall, and a television on the opposite wall. Solid wood floors, but plenty of those really soft rugs that go down, and I’d put a dresser under the window over there, with all the natural light. You know?” You turned to him, your smile never having been so wide as you spoke animatedly about what you’d do with the room if it was yours, and he couldn’t help but agree as he thought about it, picturing the room with you.

“A bookcase over here, with a few small couches and a coffee table. See how the sun hits it just right from where the large windows will be? It would be the perfect reading spot.” You let out a happy sigh as you pictured it, Sam’s eyes unable to leave you as you dreamed happily about the room around you. “Want to see the rest?”

He guided you across to the other side of the room, the gap for a roof to floor doors available as you peered out at the broken terrace. 

“There wasn’t originally a balcony here, but since there’s space out here for it I’m going to turn it into one. I think those big opening glass doors would look good here.”

“You could put little planters all along the edge near a railing, with nice flowers growing in them. Maybe something bright, maybe ‘million bells’. They’re small and low maintenance but so cheery!” He nodded, swallowing thickly at the idea of having a balcony decorated with beautiful flowers, the idea making him light up.

You stared out at the scene a little longer, before following him carefully across the wobbly and creaky floor to the stairs. The banisters had all been removed, gaps in the stairs showing evidently and Sam held out his hand in your direction as an offering, your soft palm sliding flat against his calloused one as he guided you down the staircase and showed you where to step. “Again, I want to put some exposed beam work along the corridor, going with that classic vibe, but it’s bigger down here. I don’t want to do as much, though.”

You walked along, his hand lingering in yours, and as you didn’t pull away form him, he didn’t either, instead, he wove his fingers through yours and let you guide him along as you peaked into each open doorway. “You could have three bedrooms here, or two bedrooms and a game-room, if the new owners had kids. You could have an amazing study or office, big enough for desks and bookshelves!”

You were practically skipping along as you spoke, and he told you all about the renovations he was going to be doing. There was less going on in the middle floor, just some simple repairs and redecorating. As a breeze swept through the empty window holes and along the corridor, your body had moved a little closer to his for warmth, the smell of your perfume filling his senses as you stood close enough for him to catch a drift of it. “I was thinking, if it were my house-”

“It is your house.”

He deadpanned at your joke, giving you a look as if to question whether you had a really made that joke, and you hadn't stopped the giggle that poured from your lips as he shoved you lightly, rolling his eyes as you laughter only bubbled over even more. “Anyway, as I was saying. I’d have two bedrooms, both along one side, and one of the other two would be an office where I could get all my work done. I want to put one of those big, really nice bathtubs in the bathroom as well, because the bathroom above and below us can only just fit showers in.”

“You could get one of the ones with the clawfoot tubs, to match your older-style theme.”

“I like that. A lot, actually.” He could picture it, the tiles surrounding it, large enough for two people, a beautiful bathroom that was a combination of both modern and classic elements. “Just wait ‘til I show you the kitchen.”

Guiding you down and through the rest of the house, he had show you everything, and he’d told you all his ideas. You had been in absolute awe of the large plan kitchen, with enough space for an island counter in the middle, the kitchen was the only part of the house that he wanted to make modern, and you had been practically overflowing with ideas as you planned it moving from one end of the room to the other as you poured out all your desires.

Jake had caught up with you both as he had been showing you the connected dining room, and he’d pitched in to show how he thought it should be. Sam hadn’t realised he was still clutching onto your hand, your fingers weaved through his comfortably until he’d caught sight of his brother’s proud smirk while you weren’t looking, his gaze flicking down to your connected hands and back up. 

With a flush, he’d realised your hand, explaining himself with a shrug as you grabbed your coat, the chill from the house passing by beginning to take its effect, but you couldn’t leave without looking at the garden. The garden stretched on and on, and you had excitedly told them both to picture how good the garden would look lined with hedges for fences, with a few trees to provide shade and maybe a table for sitting at in the summer. He had proudly boasted of the shed he would build if it were his house, big enough to store all his tools and supplies as well as putting up shelves for blueprints and maybe even a small table inside for working on plans.

The sun was setting by the time you were ready to go, and he really wasn’t sure how the time had passed by so quickly. Now, you were standing before him, your bag back on your shoulder and your hands buried deep in your pockets to keep them warm as you thanked both of them for giving you the chance to look around the house you had always admired form the outside.

“It’s really the least I could do. I mean..” Waving idly at your forehead, Jake let out a bellowing laugh, bidding you a goodbye as he set off into the house to begin to close up for the night, once again leaving the two of you alone and that feeling of pure comfort and peace settled over you once again. “So, you like the house?”

“It’s so much bigger inside than it looks on the outside. It’s incredible.”

“I’m glad I could show you, I had a lot of fun.” He ignored the not-so-subtle whistling of Jake behind him, and you nodded, taking you hands out of your pocket and jumping forward, your arms wrapping around his midriff as your face buried in his chest for a second. He barely had time to respond, and by the time he was lifting his own arms to return the affections, you were pulling away, rubbing your hands together for warmth and taking a few steps back. 

“I  had a really lovely time, Sam. Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe?”

“Yeah, tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

A warm feeling filled his chest at your promise, and now, he couldn't wait to get home, just so he could get up in the morning and see you again on your way to work. He hadn't had such fun in a while, and all he had done was show you around a derelict and destroyed house, and yet, it was more enjoyable than most of his dates were now. 

You had long since gone, but he was still staring out ahead of him, grinning to himself like an idiot when his brother took your abandoned spot before his eyes, a knowing smirk on his older siblings face as he looked at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You haven’t checked your phone in four hours, even though it keeps chiming.”

“So? That doesn’t mean anything.” As if on cue, it suddenly felt important to check it again, and his hand plunged into his pocket to fish out the device, but Jake’s hand on his wrist prevented him from doing so, a look in his eyes that told him to give his full attention to the conversation they were having. 

“You don’t even pay attention to me when I’m talking if your phone buzzes.” His brows furrowed as he looked at his brother, his lips curling down in a frown and his jaw dropped to explain himself, but Jake was soon waving his hand to dismiss the statement. “You’re always too busy swiping this, that or the other. You totally like this chick!”

Jake a wide smile on his face and his arm held out wide, hands twisted in thumbs up and Sam’s eyes widened as he thought about you, and about him. His phone buzzed again in his pocket, chiming the familiar note of notifications from tinder, and he shook his head, denial beginning to pour from his lips as he ignored and suppressed the warmth that blossomed in his chest at the mere idea of you. “No, she’s not my time. Nuh-uh.”

“Uh, she’s exactly your type.” Holding a hand up to count off, his brother began to list your qualities, ones that he knew Sam particularly loved in a girl. “She’s sweet, she’s cute, she’s funny, she spent the whole afternoon talking to you about remodelling.” 

“Yeah, and she’s also the type that wants to have a real relationship. She wants that exclusivity thing, a guy who’s totally head over heels for her, all that crap.” Sam let out a sigh as he thought about you, about the way you might feel in his arms or the way your lips might feel against his, but he was quick to push the ideas from his mind. “She works in a nursery for Christ’s sake. That’s not me. I don’t settle down.”

“What? Do you just never want to settle down?”

“Sure, one day.” He shrugged, letting out a ragged sigh and running a hand through his hair. “I mean, you seem super happy, because you found ‘the one’ or whatever, you had a baby and the house and the white picket fence, but that doesn’t mean it’ll work for me.” The underlying feeling of pure rejection and fear barely being hidden.

Jake opened his mouth to reply, being fixed with a short glare before Sam was making his way toward the truck, sighing agitatedly and leaving Jake to follow after him, the conversation forgotten as the truck was started up and they headed home for the evening. He did his best to push away the feeling of how good it felt to spend the afternoon with you, and he couldn’t deny the connection the two of you had made.

He spend the night thinking about it, considering your ideas and writing them down as the house lingered in his mind, your face and how good the garden would look done up just the way you had suggested. The only escape he got from you was when sleep finally took him, and as he drove to work the next morning, he was conflicted. 

He wanted to see you, he was checking the direction of the street you walked from more than he was checking his phone, but he also lingered up on the top of the roof, because he didn’t want to let his feelings grow. He doesn’t do relationships, they don’t work out. His last relationship didn’t end well, he didn’t have a good history, and he wasn’t getting himself all worked up over it now.

He was still hiding out on the roof when you passed by, your voice ringing out and bringing harmony tot he small work area as he peeped over the edge of the roof, his eyes finding yours as you waved to him happily, calling out a greeting to him which he quickly returned, before diverting his eyes and trying to focus on screwing in the bolts on the wall before him. You had stayed to chat for a while, even handing over a large flash to Jake before you were saying your goodbyes, waving to him and shooting him a bright smile before you were disappearing, and finally, he allowed himself to come down the ladder to stand by his brother’s side.

Unscrewing the top, Jake took a sniff of the liquid, letting out a groan as the steam curled out into the cool air. “She brought us coffee?”

“Yeah. She’s a real sweetheart.” His brother mumbled, and Sam let his head tip to the side, accepting the small plastic cup filled with the hot liquid, and he shook his head fondly at the thought of you making them coffee and bringing it for them.

“She’s so fucking cute, but also hot. I don’t get it, she’s got it all.”

“Stop it.” His daydreaming was brought to a quick end upon hearing the harsh tone of Jake’s voice, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at his brother.

“Stop what?”

“She’s lovely, and you don’t want to settle down, you made that perfectly lear last night. Don’t hurt her by sleeping with her, Sam. She’s not one of your tinder girls, leave her alone.” His brother gave him a curt nod after delivering the hurtful, but truthful, words. The sweet coffee burned as he swallowed it, and he cringed at both the burns he had received in the last thirty seconds, both physically and metaphorically.

Pushing down how he felt, he cleared his mind, swigging the rest of his drink before moving away to start his work for the day.

[windup-warrior]

Prompt #1: Submerged

Drown

It comes in waves, I close my eyes Hold my breath and let it bury me I'm not OK and it's not all right Won't you drag the lake and bring me home again --Bring Me The Horizon-Drown

“Stay away from the edge there, girl.” Ezi’ra called to the violet haired child dancing precariously near the frostbitten ledge overlooking a seemingly frozen river. The lean Miqo’te man eyed her for a few moments longer, just enough to confirm that she heard him. The little girl’s red eyes turned his way, wide and doe like as she took three careful steps back, each one leaving a petite boot print in the thick slush that soaked the ground. Deep in the shadow of the Black Iron Bridge, spring struggled to pry free winter’s hold on the land, leaving deep trenches of drifting snow, half melted but unwilling to finish the job fully within the span of a single day. The pale sun would rise each day, casting its pallid light upon the western highlands in a bid to wrest it from the cold and by midday, it almost seemed as if it would succeed. But as the sun tired, sinking beyond the horizon, the chill of night solidified the trickling streams and melting ice, halting any hint of progress by the time the sun made its return come morning’s first light.

It was as the sun was setting on another late spring day that Ezi’ra and his daughter set off from Camp Riversmeet for another day on the hunt for the pristine pelts of the silver wolves that frequented the barren lands. As the days got longer, the easier it became for Ezi’ra to justify stretching their time on the river as long as possible. Before long, they would have to head back to Falcon’s Nest to see just what they could get for their haul. Another day in Falcon’s Nest and the surrounding area should net enough for them to return home with a fat sack of gil to see them through a handful of weeks. It was those numbers that Ezi’ra was tabulating in his head as he stalked low behind a ridge of scattered rocks on the outcropping, bow nocked and drawn for the next shot when he heard the shrill squeak cut through the air amidst the breaking of ice.

“Karma? Karma!” Ezi’ra’s bow clattered to the ground, sinking into the slushy sludge as he stumbled over himself to where his six year old daughter had been standing just a handful of moments prior. Tiny footprints in the snow abruptly cut off amidst a mess of scattered snow and smeared slush, directed downward and over the edge. Before he could reach it, the sharp crack of ice down below confirmed his fear; the little girl had slipped from the side and into the thawing stream below. On a winter’s day, it would have been firm enough for even the heaviest beast to walk upon, but so close to the apex of spring, despite the girl’s featherlight weight, she sank like a stone through the fragile ice and into the arctic waters beneath.

“Papa! Papa, help!” She screamed, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on the jagged edges of the broken hole. Ezi’ra leaned over the edge to see just a spot of purple in the black waters before it dipped below the surface. He exhaled a harsh breath and carefully but quickly climbed down from the ledge, taking care to mind his footing upon the bank lest he fall in too. There at the edge, he cast his mismatched blue and gold gaze upon the hole in the ice. The water was in tumult, splashing up over the edge, but no sign of the child could be seen save for the deep divot scratch marks left in the ice around where she had fallen. Weblike fissures had cracked their way through the ice, marking a precarious path from father to daughter should he venture out onto the ice to retrieve her.

He would, wouldn’t he?

“Oi! Did someone fall in?” A voice called from on high. Down the bank and high upon the cliff’s edge, a midnight haired Elezen peered down upon the distraught but hesitating Miqo’te. Ezi’ra pushed his hands back through his hair, tangling them in the cobalt mess atop his head, and merely shrugged helplessly. What kind of father could simply stand there while his child struggled in the water? But to go out could be near certain death for him as well. Thus the war waged upon his conscience as the Elezen’s dark head disappeared from the edge. A moment later, a nimble landing of booted feet beside Ezi’ra found him in the company of the man who had called out to him.

“My daughter…” Ezi’ra murmured, peeling one hand away from his head to gesture vaguely to icy stream. His gaze lifted, tracing over the high cliff walls on either side of the river. The commotion had attracted attention in the form of half a dozen faces watching from where the Elezen had appeared. But despite the dire situation, only he had the courage to venture down to the riverside. No sooner had Ezi’ra answered did the Elezen begin shedding the heavy plate armor that adorned his lithe frame, dropping fur linings and finely worked pieces alike until he wore nothing more than smallclothes. When it seemed Ezi’ra wouldn’t take action, the Elezen hissed out a quiet curse and lurched forward in a burst of agile tiptoed steps over the ice, each placement of his foot lasting but a fraction of a second before he was on to the next. In a flash, he was beside the broken hole in the ice, peering down for any sign of the child that had supposedly fallen in.

“Thal’s balls…” He muttered but didn’t hesitate when it came to taking the plunge, leaping into the hole in the ice. The dark water swallowed him just as it had the girl but he had an advantage she didn’t; he knew this river like the back of his hand. Frozen or not, it wasn’t terribly deeper than the average elf could stand, though he supposed it would be more than enough to overwhelm a tiny miqo child. Pressing beneath the ice, he searched and searched, leaving her father on the edge of the river to worry and wonder if they would ever come up.

A minute became two.

Two became five.

For Ezi’ra it felt like a whole bell had passed when at last he got his answer. Nearly a hundred yalms downstream, the ice broke in a spectacular upward burst. All at once, the dark haired Elezen emerged, his lean arms wrapped around the tiny, waterlogged form of a Miqo’te girl. He sputtered water even as he pushed her up onto the thicker ice at the edge, beckoning over Ezi’ra to grab her so that he too could climb from the water. After a few dumbfounded moments, the Miqo’te stumbled over himself, tripping his way down the river’s bank until he could ease himself out just far enough onto the ice to snag the girl by her armpits, pulling her toward solid ground. Her thick winter gear was sodden with frigid water and her pale cheeks had a ghastly blue tinge to them though not nearly so dark as the purple-blue of her lips. He wrapped her up in his cloak, unsure of just how to tend to her limp form. Meanwhile, the elf shook the excess water from his frame and hurried back to his own gear to redress, donning everything save his coat, which he draped over his arm as he briskly returned to the father and daughter.

“Is she breathing?” He asked, kneeling down beside the pair.

“I… I…don’t know.” Ezi’ra shook his head, leaning down to listen for any signs of life.

“Give her here. There is a healer at the camp that can help.” The Elezen said with a low thrum of annoyance as he spread his coat to wrap the girl up and take her from her father. She was so small, so limp and doll like in his arms. He swaddled her tightly and rose, cradling her in a tender hold as he looked upwards. Their crowd of spectators had grown, but none seemed intent on leaping to help. He shook his head and called out. “Summon the chirurgeon! Have it done before I get up there or you will all regret your gawking.”

The crowd scattered, leaving the trio below to make their way back up to the ledge above, summiting a scant handful of minutes later. Halfway back to the camp, they were met by a contingent consisting of two armored Elezen and a well dressed chirurgeon carrying a heavy bag laden with what one could only assume was instruments of his trade.

“She fell into the river, help her.” The dark haired Elezen prompted, carefully passing the girl over once they made it back to the warmth and safety of the camp. Within the confines of one of the half dozen wood walled huts, the chirurgeon looked her over, taking vitals before administering a potion he was certain would rouse her. True to his word, the girl gasped and sputtered, lurching up against the gentle hold of hands on her shoulders with a flail of arms and legs until she realized she was safe and sound.

Her eyes opened and the collective recoil of those around her couldn’t be restrained. There were whispers, talk of heresy and voidsent things. Was it a trick? A trap to lure the camp into a false sense of complacency under the guise of humanitarian aid needed? The discussion was interrupted as Ezi’ra peeked his head in.

“How is she? This is costing me a lot of hunting time and daylight… I… I really need to get moving before nightfall…” He said, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. The dark haired Elezen, a lesser noble called Mereaux by the others, turned slowly toward the father.

“Surely your daughter’s life is worth the cost, no?” He said, a measure of calculated calm limning each of his words. Like before, Ezi’ra hesitated. It was all the answer that Mereaux needed. He stormed the distance between him and Ezi’ra, reaching deep into a pocket with such a fury that Ezi’ra couldn’t help but flinch. No violence came from the motion, no matter how hot Mereaux may have been due to the man’s lacking paternal instinct, rather he withdrew a satchel that jingled with the weight of more than few gil. He thrust it at Ezi’ra hard enough that the Miqo’te had to take a step back as he caught it so that it didn’t upset his balance. Mereaux leaned toward him and snarled, “She is your daughter. She is worth more than any measly hunt may bring. A child is a gift, treat her as such. Now take her and be on your way before I change my mind.”

Money talks, Ezi’ra didn’t have to be told twice. As soon as she was garbed in dry clothing and could walk once more, the man and his strange, fire eyed daughter took their leave. As he had all her life, he ignored the whispers as they departed, tugging her along by the hand even as she tried her best to look over her shoulder. At six, she didn’t understand much of what they said, but she knew the weight of Mereaux’s scowl as it chased them away, the anger and even the disgust that followed her father. Too late, Mereaux caught her looking, his expression softening for the handful of moments it took to lift his hand in solemn farewell. She too lifted her hand, waving back to him just before Ezi’ra rounded a curve and the camp disappeared. 

[txladyj-blog]

This Time Around - Chapter 30

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​ by request of @txladyj-blog​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 32/?

Sleep had evaded her once more. This time it was not nightmares, nor was it an unexpected kiss from Daryl. It was the sheer horror, humiliation and worry that from then on, nothing would ever be the same again with the man she loved. She’d poured over the happenings of that night a million times, each revisit to it coaxing tears to her eyes and a sickening, churning regret deep in her stomach.

After throwing some choice items against the wall and smashing them to pieces, she’d spent two hours furiously cleaning and tidying the diner. Sweeping the same spot on the floor multiple times because it just didn’t look clean enough and picking up a tin of black paint with the intention of moving it somewhere else, for what was quite possibly the hundredth time. She changed the sheets, washed the dirty ones and re-folded all of her clothes until they were stacked in a beautifully square pile in a drawer. She re-organized her books, scrapping the traditional library style of A-Z by author and opting for the wilder approach of color coordinated. The result was more aesthetically pleasing but when she surveyed her efforts with a tilted head and narrowed eyes, the lack of professionalism niggled at her. She changed them back, dusted them all and then tore them all from the shelves again so she could dust the wooden beams before replacing them.

The cracked mirror that hung on her wall showed exactly the turmoil she felt within. The light from a single, pillar candle in her hand did nothing to soften the rough reality of her tired face. Her skin was pallid, her hair barely brushed and her eyes bloodshot from hours of trying to hold back tears and failing miserably. She was hungry, but knew she wouldn’t keep anything down until she could get some clarity, some advice and somewhere to go so that she wasn’t forced to look at the same stain on the countertop over and over again. No one would be awake for hours. It didn’t matter, she needed to get out.

Alexandria was quiet and still and Jess was drawn to Aaron and Eric’s house like a moth to a flame. As she pushed the unlocked front door open, a rush of air left her lungs. It was exhilarating, wandering around in dead of night while everyone but the guards slept and letting herself into someone else’s house. It crossed her mind that maybe this was what it was like to be a career criminal. She crept through the house, pretending she was a stealthy, seasoned burglar on the edge of the law. When she reached the kitchen, she paused at the table, swallowing her anxiety and slowly began to open cupboards.

Aaron rolled over in bed and kicked the covers from his overheating legs. From beside him, he heard Eric let out a muffled groan while still enveloped in the clutches of a deep sleep. Aaron rarely slept through the night and when the world first started to deteriorate, neither did Eric. Over time and since Eric had ceased recruiting, it was noticed by Aaron that he was falling back into the security of sleeping for at least 6 hours a night. He didn’t resent him for it, he’d done his time outside the walls and not being of high fighting caliber, it was no place for him. Aaron frequently found himself sitting up in bed and reading by candlelight until his eyelids became heavy and his body finally relaxed, sleep gradually creeping in and providing him with some rest. That night had been no different and as he opened his book and slid the bookmark from the page a loud crash from downstairs had him springing up from the mattress and grabbing his knife from where it was wedged between the bed and the bedframe for easy access. The metal scraped across the wood and Eric stirred from the noise, sitting up and rubbing one eye. In the flickering light of the candle on the nightstand he witnessed Aaron with his back slightly arched like a frightened cat and his hands hovering out in front of him, his knife held against one palm with his thumb. The hairs on the back of Eric’s neck stood on end.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Shh” Aaron hushed. He listened and quickly padded around the room when another crash, this time louder rose up the staircase and filtered into the room. He snatched up a box of matches from the nightstand and went to the window ledge, lighting two lanterns and holding one up to Eric.

“Get your knife.” He instructed with no other information that would shed any light on if Eric should be terrified or confident that Aaron knew what he was doing. He didn’t argue and swung his legs out of bed, dragging his knife from the chest of drawers at the other side of the bed and pulling his sneakers on. When he joined Aaron, he was already sneaking out of the door and into the dark hallway. “Stay behind me, keep quiet.” He whispered.

Eric was sure the stairs were never as noisy as they were when the both of them tiptoed down them, taking each one as if it were ten times bigger than it actually was. His hand was sweating around the handle of the knife and he prayed that no Walkers had managed to get past the guards, or worse still, any murderous humans like last time. He swallowed hard and placed a hand on Aarons back.

Aaron jolted and shot him an angry look over his shoulder, causing him to withdraw his hand and make a mental note not to touch him while he was in stealth mode.

“Can’t see a thing” Aaron muttered “I’ll get the living room; you check the kitchen. Stay alert.”

Eric nodded and quickly realized that he couldn’t be seen while he was nodding at the back of his boyfriend’s head.

“Okay” He agreed with a whisper.

As they reached the bottom of the steps, Aaron went off to the right and Eric, now on his own, veered off to the left and entered the kitchen. Moonlight poured through the windows but the corners of the room were shrouded in blackness and as he inched his way inside, he bypassed the light switch, completely forgetting that it would have given him the security of being able to see the whole room. He held out the lantern, which provided a dim glow that was bright enough to reveal a figure slumped on the floor against the refrigerator. He swallowed hard and noted his breathing becoming louder and faster as fear began to tickle at his nerves. The figure was still, with legs sprawled out and its head lowered.

He moved closer still, until he was standing by a boot-covered foot, able to make out the faint outline of military style footwear. Needing to know if he was going to be required to put down a Walker or kill a person, he drew a foot back and swiftly and firmly collided his sneaker with the intruder’s shin.

A loud yelp soon had Aaron racing across the house and into the kitchen, where he slammed the light on to find Eric curled up on the floor, clutching his ankle. Still in the same position against the refrigerator and clutching a bottle of Rum, was Jess.

“He kicked me.” She stated to a shell-shocked Aaron at the same time as gracelessly flinging an arm in Eric’s direction. “Not coming here anymore. I get kicked.”

Eric hauled himself up and Aaron leaned down to help him to his feet, both sets of confused eyes staring down at Jess. She lifted the bottle to her lips and took a large gulp of the liquid, screwing up her face and grunting as the alcohol burned her throat. “I guessss I was about to be st-stabbed as well as kicked.” She slurred. “Nice, niiiice.”

“What are you doing here?” Eric asked “You scared the hell out of us, we thought you were a Walker. Or one of those murdering freaks.”

“Oh, I’m a freak alright.” She mentioned “Not here for the murdering though…I’m here for the Rum” She held the bottle aloft and squinted at the contents. “Well whaddaya know, there was a lot more in there when I arrived.”

Aaron stepped closer after briefly patting Eric on the shoulder and signaling that he should probably handle things. Eric pulled out a chair from the dining table and flopped down onto it, running a hand through his hair, extinguishing the lantern and leaving his knife on the surface.

“Jess” Aaron cooed “What are you really doing here? What’s going on?”

His baggy white T-shirt and blue pajama pants caught her attention. They looked so comfortable, she was regretting leaving the confines of her home and her own, oversized, snuggly clothing. But now she had Rum, she was going nowhere.

Aaron was peering at her as he lowered himself to the floor and knelt down. He reached out, intending to take the bottle from her hands but she whipped it away and grit her teeth, a small, animalistic noise emerging from her throat.

“She just growled at you.” Eric pointed out. “Don’t take that bottle if you like your eyeballs in the right place.”

Aaron once again looked over his shoulder and furrowed his brow.

“What? She kicked me too. She’s obviously a mean drunk.” He shrugged.

“I am” Jess chuckled to herself as she allowed herself another gulp. “I am a mean drunk. No, I’m not. I’m not a mean drunk. I’m not a drunk. I’m not-not drunk. I don’t…drink. Usually. Tonight. I do. Tonight, I said ‘yes, Jess! You should get yourself a damn drank!’. I deserve a drink. I neeeeed a drink. But I sswear, I only had three sips.”

Eric began to chuckle from behind Aaron and he swiftly held his hand in front of his mouth.

“This reminds me of our first date.” He commented through his fingers.

Aaron closed his eyes and sighed at being reminded of a moment that was not his finest by far. Nerves and pressure ruled his actions that night and it was behavior he’d not repeated since.

“How many times? I was not drunk.” He insisted

“No. You were hammered.” Eric smirked.

Jess, who was apparently listening in her drunken stupor, let out a loud and messy laugh, throwing her head back so quickly it banged on the refrigerator. She gawped at Aaron in shock and continued to laugh as she rubbed the sore spot. Aaron winced at the strong smell of hard liquor that seemed to be clouding around her. While she was busying herself with her own hysterics, he quickly looked at Eric.

“I got this; you should go back to bed.” He told him.

“Hmm. Okay.” Eric agreed as he got up, collected his knife and glared down at Jess, seeing her lift the rum into the air and ‘cheers’ him. “I was saving that bottle, Missy.”

She grinned at him, a wide, shameless and toothy grin that caused both Aaron and Eric to swap an uncomfortable glance.

“Oopssss!” She giggled “Heh! Oh! Oh, it’s Rum! Story time! My parents used to call my brother the ‘Rum n’ Coke kid’. Because Rum…well, that’s what helped bring him into the world” She laughed heartily at her own anecdote.

Glad he was able to run away from having to tend to their intoxicated night guest, Eric left the room and headed up to bed. Aaron shifted around and settled next to her, his eyes lowering to the bottle when she thudded it onto the ground between them. He picked it up, took a sizeable swing from it and placed it back down again, out of her reach and in a much gentler manner than Jess could manage herself. If he was going to handle it, he was going to need a little encouragement.

“C’mon. Tell me.” He coaxed.

“Ooh I think I need sssome advice” she whispered

He was speaking but none of the words were sinking in, rather they just floated into one ear and out of the other. Her mind wasn’t in the room. It was back at the fairground and was yet again going over the messy events of the night before only this time, it was all blurred and distorted and seemed ten times worse than she remembered. She hesitated, dragging her sleeves over her hands and fiddling with them in a juvenile display of anxiety. Aaron scooted closer to her. She now had his undivided attention and was completely at his mercy with her extremely personal problem.

“OK, well, I’ll try my best. What’s going on?” He asked.

“Daryl and-and me. It got…well, we…” She paused, with no clue how to even begin to explain what had happened. “…I’m unprepared.” Was all she could manage to say.

Aaron narrowed his gaze at her and could come up with only one explanation from her stammered words. Quite why it had resulted in her letting herself into his home and drowning herself in booze was beyond him.

“There are rubbers in the bathroom cabinet.” He told her plainly.

It was at that point that she realized that it wasn’t going to be as easy as throwing some basic sentences his way and expecting him to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She was going to have to step up her bravery and bite the bullet.

“Ooohhhkaaayyy” she sighed “Not just unprepared. Inexperienced.”

Aarons eyebrows slowly lifted and his lips parted but his expression was nowhere near as shocked as Jess had envisioned while she’d been fretting about reveling her issues. She was as sure as the day was long that Aaron was the best person that she could have chosen to disclose such a problem to.

“Oh. I uh… I see. Inexperienced meaning completely inexperienced?” he enquired.

“Mmhmm” she squeaked.

“Ah” he stroked his beard and nodded thoughtfully. “Does Daryl know you’re a virgin?”

Her eyes shot up to the ceiling so fast that her eye sockets ached at the sound of the trigger word she’d managed to avoid for years. She hated it with a passion, yet she was at a point in her life where she was going to be forced to face it.

“Ugh. That darn word.” She groaned “Last night he uh, made a move on me. A big move. I got ssscared and threw him out and I feel sooo, so bad, Aaron.” She tilted her head back and pushed her lips together to try and stave off the approaching floodgate of tears that was beginning to topple over the barrier she’d put in place. Induced not only by the memory of it all, but by the alcohol too. They were fast morphing into tears of rage more than anything else. Her anger at herself increasing fast with every passing moment.

“You didn’t tell him?” He pressed gently.

She shook her head before batting at a stray tear and sniffing loudly.

“I wanted to. I really did and at first, I was fine. And he kept asking me if I was okay and I kept saying yes because I wanted to be. I really wanted to be and then, um…it just all hit me. All at once, like bam, you can’t do this. I just froze up and made him leave. He was crushed. He’s soo dreamy, Aaron. What the fuck is wrong with me?!”

Without asking, Aaron wrapped an arm around her and brought her to his shoulder, ignoring her tears creating a large wet patch on his T-shirt. He affectionately rubbed at her upper arm and hushed her. It was exactly what she needed, a genuine hug from a good friend to stave off the burning rage and gnawing sadness she carried with her and would only wallow in without him there to help her make sense of it all. She felt like a dead weight against Aaron’s body as she began to slump but he ignored it, telling himself that her inebriated state was to blame for that.

“Tell me what was going through your head.” He urged.

She remembered how busy her brain was at that point. She couldn’t deny that she loved the feeling of him kissing her in spots he never usually did, she was thinking of how incredible it felt to know that he was there because he wanted to be, because he wanted her in a way that no one else ever had. She thought about how his hands felt when he ghosted them over her chest and slid his thumbs along her inner thighs. But she was also plagued by insecurities and anxiety, so much so, that it had accumulated and hit her like a brick wall.

“That I wasn’t ready. That I’d disssa-dissappoint him. That I didn’t wanna get pregnant in an apocalypssse. That he’d think I’m ugly” She answered honestly “Among other things.”

She sat back up and dragged both hands down her face, sighing loudly and sending a piece of partially matted hair flying up at her hairline. She was dressed for hunting but as she’d walked through the trees with the intention of returning to the woods when the sun started to come up, she knew nothing would come of it. With her head so firmly placed elsewhere, she was more likely to catch a cold. Her palms were sweating and she tugged furiously at the zipper on her jacket but her fingers slipped away and Aaron stepped in, hovering his hand over hers to stop her from getting any more annoyed. He pulled her zipper down for her and she shrugged off her coat.

“All of those things you mentioned, they’re understandable, Jess. Not only that, they’re responsible. You’re right not to do anything you’re not ready for, that would only end up bad for the both of you. But you really need to tell him the truth” He advised, noticing that her tears were diminishing and her cheeks were left puffy and pink.

“I remember when I left high school, I was at home with three of my friends, all guys. Out of nowhere, one of them asks me if I still had my V-card and let me tell you…” she wagged a finger at him “…he was not quiet about it. I wasss...ahh, I wass mortified. It’s not easy, to jussst tell him. It’s not. Its this thing. This big, important thing that everyone seemsss to think is ssssooo damn easy.”

“Not necessarily.” Aaron corrected. “Do you love him, Jess?”

Her eyes seemed to glaze over and a smile tugged at one corner of her mouth when she thought about all the reasons why she felt so strongly about him.

“So much” She whispered “I love him so much that I spent most of the night throwing ssshit around my house because I messed everything up to such a cata-catastrophic level. I broke my favorite mug. It was a disaster. Then I cleaned everything up. And cleaned it again. I still can’t find a place to put the paint tin.”

“You can deal with that later.” Aaron said softly, placing hand on her shoulder. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe Daryl is just as terrified about this as you? Has he ever told you about any girlfriends he’s had in the past?”

“No girlfriends to speak of but hell, he’s no virgin.” She blurted out. “I don’t exactly have anything to compare it to but honestly, when I ignore how terrifying it was…it wasssalssso amazing. He was sssooo gentle and attentive. He didn’t have to take one single item of my clothing off and I wass imagining smothering him in Blue Belle ice cream and going…to…town. I think the guy might have ssskills.”

Seemingly impressed he nodded with interest and hummed to himself.

“Hmm. Well, Daryl sure is thorough when it comes to completing tasks. Looks like you’ll reap the benefits of that.” He commented with a smirk. “Okay, so to sum all this up; you’ve never had sex and he’s never had a girlfriend. You two are like the blind leading the blind but all it’s going to take is a little honesty and understanding. Just talk to him. I was right about everything up until this point. I’m on a winning streak, don’t let me down now.”

Jess leaned over him, collecting the bottle from his side and rapidly taking a gulp before he could stop her.

“You’re a wise and knowledgeable gay, y’know that?” She smiled across the bottles rim before taking another sip and discarding it on the floor. The harsh liquid hit her throat and helped to soothe her worry, brining her back down to earth and in the moment.

“I know” He agreed smugly “You may be drunk but I’m just glad you came to me and not Abraham or you’d have been sent on your way with a slap on the ass and a bag of sex toys by now.”

She chuckled at the observation, mainly because it wasn’t an inaccurate one at all. Abraham’s unorthodox reaction to such problems was to crack a joke and preoccupy himself with Rosita and some private time.

Her conversation with Aaron and his unwavering support confirmed to her that an idea she’d toyed with while scrubbing the diner clean was the correct course of action.

“There’s something else” She told him. “Please can I move in here with you and Eric?”

His face broke into a delighted smile and he leaned back in surprise. Ever since she’d arrived at Alexandria, Aaron had clicked with her and as much as she tried to keep her distance, coming across as cold and disinterested in any friendships, he could always tell when she was smiling behind her mask. Her eyes were telling and he knew she had a good sense of humour that gelled well with his own. Eric also liked her and they’d both enjoyed a much closer, much more trusting and open friendship since her mask come down and her real identity came forth.

“Of course, you can. Your room is exactly the same as the last time you stayed. I’m so pleased you listened to Deanna.” He expressed.

“I’m not doing it for Deanna.” She corrected.

“Ah.” He grunted. “Say no more. Hey, why don’t you ask Daryl to help you move? Be a good opportunity for you guys to talk.”

She turned to her side and dived at him, hugging him tightly as he laughed at her sudden gesture.

“Good idea, MonkeyNuts. Thank you.” She beamed.

After being coaxed to get up from the floor and leave the Rum alone, Aaron helped Jess up to the spare room, where she slipped into an alcohol induced, deep sleep that was more like a coma than proper rest. When she awoke, she had no idea that it was the middle of the afternoon the next day and all she could think about when her eyes flickered open was the heavy thudding in her head and the aching behind her eyes.

Still fully clothed, she groaned and clawed her way over the bedsheets to the glass of water on the nightstand that felt like it was a million miles away.

Hells bells. If ambulances were still a thing I’d be calling one right about now.

Reaching the glass, she slid it from the surface and gulped down the entire thing without a single breath, her lungs straining for air once she’d finally swallowed and savoured the much-needed hydration. Then, her stomach cramped and she buckled over, holding a hand to her abdomen.

Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.

A wave of nausea hit her but she held her mouth closed and drew in a breath through her nose, willing it to be over as quickly as it started. Pleased when it subsided, she rolled out of the bed and shakily stood up, her joints feeling as though they were made from paper.

Leaving the room in such a state wasn’t an idea that appealed to her at that point and so, she sat back down, allowing herself a few minutes to get herself together. When Eric appeared with another glass of water and a most amused grin on his face, she rolled her sore eyes and politely asked him never to mention her little mishap to anyone.

It took her another hour to be able to face the sunshine outside but she couldn’t delay it any longer, she had to find Daryl and try to make things right, partly because she couldn’t handle another midnight meltdown on Aaron and Eric’s Kitchen floor.

It was the first time since her attack that she’d entered their kitchen and she could honestly say that due to her distressed state and near enough all of her inhibitions being lowered at the time, it had only taken once glance at the table for her to sneer in disgust as she experienced a rush of rage at the sight. But she’d pushed through it and although the darkness provided a cloak over the offending piece of furniture, she realized that avoiding it altogether for the rest of her days would only prolong the lasting effects she felt from such a trauma.

When evening set in, she found herself in the middle of the street, in front of the gate and having left Aaron and Eric begging her to just eat something to soothe her hangover. Still with a severe headache and the weight of what had happened on her shoulders, but feeling a little clearer about everything, she accepted that she had no choice but to brave seeing Daryl or the whole situation could spiral into something even worse; she could lose him altogether.

She scanned the area, checking the vegetable patch in front of her first. Then, she walked past the church and peered inside. Nothing. Upon passing Deanna’s place, she could see her sat her desk, embroiled in what looked like a heated argument with Spencer. Next, was the houses and the first one; the Grimes house.

She stopped in her tracks when she raised her vision from the path to find Daryl glaring back at her like a lion sitting before its kingdom. He was alone and she took that as a saving grace, having to put on a brave face in front of anyone else at that point was likely to end badly. Her heart sank at how infuriated he appeared to be with her. He didn’t speak, move or even blink as she gingerly took the steps up to the porch.

“Hi” she sighed. She knew better than to expect a response when she observed his standoffish aura and the strained atmosphere between them after her only having been present for a matter of seconds. “Are you busy?” she asked.

His dirty boots were rested on top of the clean, glass table and his seat was pushed back, balancing on it’s back two legs. Daryl always had a way of looking both relaxed and completely furious all at once.

“I look busy?” he grunted with a slight turn of one hand as if she’d asked a totally stupid question.

“We should talk.” She mentioned.

He immediately shook his head and lowered his chair back onto the porch floor with a loud clunk. He lifted his legs from the table and rested his ankle of one leg on his knee while he picked at the frayed patches sewn into his jeans.

“Naw. Spoke to Deanna this mornin’. I aint talkin’ to you ‘bout shit until you move your stubborn ass inside these walls.” He snapped, raising his voice and jabbing at the floor with a pointed finger to signify that he wanted her there and he wanted her safe.

“Actually, I was also going to ask you if you’d mind helping me move my stuff to Aaron and Eric’s.” She told him, seeing his face change slightly. Now, he was suspicious more than anything else. Did he really think she would be lying to him at a time like that?

“So, you are movin’.” He checked, feeling like he’d almost heard her wrong after her being so set on staying at the fairground before.

“Yeah. But I’m not doing it for Deanna. Or for Aaron and Eric, or even for myself. I’m doing it for you.”

The incensed but controlled look on his face didn’t wane again and it did little for her faith in repairing what she’d damaged. But he was thinking, she could see it in his body language as his thumb tapped on the chairs arm and he furiously nibbled at his lip.

“Right now?” He asked.

“Right now.”

He got up from his seat and Jess backed up as though he might bulldoze straight through her. He thumped down the steps and along the path without a single word.

Both the walk to the fairground and the first few minutes of packing Jess’s belongings into boxes was unbearably quiet and with each uncomfortably long minute passing, her temper increased and her head throbbed. Before long, and even with the persistent pain inside her skull, she was slamming items on the counter top, throwing clothes around and literally tossing things that she didn’t want over her shoulder.

Daryl was no different and he sought the ability to vent by ripping the blankets from her bed and scrunching them up into a messy ball before throwing them into a box and setting about cawing the pillow cases off. He plonked down onto the bare mattress and shoved the box aside when he was done, setting his sights on the pile of books on the makeshift coffee table.

Jess’s attention kept waning and every time she failed to stop herself from stealing a peep at him from across the room, she felt her chest glow with anger. But it was not aimed at him. It was directed at the situation and at herself. For not being like everyone else, for being so inconveniently different and slow off the mark, for being unable to keep her hang-ups and anxiety in check, for not being everything he needed her to be.

He’d made a pile on the bed of books and a myriad of trinkets and was organizing them into boxes, starkly aware that for the entire journey there and even after around twenty minutes, neither of them had said a single word to one another and the tension was becoming unbearable.

Jess was expelling her frustration by literally throwing things around and not even bothering to aim at boxes anymore. The jarring noises as they collided with the floor made Daryl cringe, but he didn’t show it. Jess needed the noise, it happened to be a whole lot easier to digest than her emotions at the time. She irritated herself even further by failing to fight the need to steal looks at him and she frequently took a deep breath, feeling the words move to the tip of her tongue before vanishing altogether. That was, until they didn’t.

“It wasn’t you.” She muttered while able to see the lack of movement from him as she picked up some spare holsters and checked over the buckles.

Daryl had expected to have to face such a topic at some point, but expecting it hadn’t made it any easier to enter into, especially when it went along with such an obvious display of frustration from the other side of the room. He’d spent the night trying to figure out what had gone so wrong, what it was that had suddenly caused her to change her mind and he had whittled it down to one thing; it most certainly was him, but he wasn’t wrong to try after so many demands for answers.

Course it was me. I’m a fuckin’ Dixon. All we ever do is fuck shit up.

“I’m a fucking freak.” She huffed under her breath. She heard him scoff loudly before he pulled the sheets back out of the box and started to fold them messily.

“Bullshit.” He muttered, telling himself that she wasn’t going to turn the tables on him and play the sympathy card. She had been the one to demand an explanation and to him, he’d gone a step further than just telling her. He’d shown her and it had backfired to the point where he wasn’t sure if anything would be the same again. He didn’t grace her with any more words, instead he continued to fold the fabric. Then, he sensed her stop from the corner of his eye. He braced himself, fearing that things would escalate into a falling out that he’d rather not endure. She rubbed at her temples with a pained expression and he noted the bags under her eyes.

“When I say I’m a freak, I mean that I might joke about not having any experience in relationships, but it’s not just the emotional part that I’m talking about…. It’s the physical part too.”

He paused with the sheets still pinched between his fingers, his hands held up in mid-air.

“What?”

“I’ve never been with anyone.” She blurted out “Not even up to second base. No one’s ever been up to bat. I thought maybe I found someone in the past but he lied to me and hurt me. He used me to get to my best friend and ever since, I just knew it wouldn’t happen for me…” She took a deep breath, seeing his captivated but still stern expression “…and it didn’t. Until you kissed me last night and I realized that you were there because you wanted to be. Yeah, I freaked the fuck out. I have never had someone that I care about so much want me like that and being the dumbass and overthinker that I am, it all got too much and I had to stop.”

It was a long time before he spoke and the weight of Jess’s confession hung in the air like smoke. Daryl sank down onto the bed with his hands wringing in front of him as he leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees. She noted that his body language was all pointed in the opposite direction and he was determined to keep his attention focused away from her, it was something that toyed with her need to panic.

It hadn’t crossed his mind. Not once amid the clandestine meetings and secret kisses. Never during the moments of wandering hands or breathless whispers. She kissed him like she meant it and her inexperience was a revelation not only because of her age and the way she returned his flirting, but because he thought her to be an incredible example of feminine strength and resilience, a bright light when she smiled and laughed and the most captivating thing he’d ever seen. He couldn’t wrap his head around why no one had tried until now.

“I didn’t know.” He murmured before summoning up the courage to say what he knew he really needed to before he lost his chance. “There’s some stuff I gotta say to you.”

“Okay” She sniffed.

He shifted to the edge of the mattress, in amongst the tousled sheets and rubbed at his short, grey tinted beard with his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re the first person that’s ever mattered to me. More than my own life” He started, much to Jess’s surprise. “I never had nobody that I actually wanted to spend time with. Or wanted to spend time with me. You drive me crazy one-minute n’ make me laugh two seconds later.” He risked a peek at her and Jess heard a small growl followed by a deep breath. It was obvious that he was highly uncomfortable and she wanted more than anything to reach out and go to him, to hold his hand, but the taut muscles in his jaw told her that it was best to leave him be. “Everythin’ in my head tells me to run. But my heart…says somethin’ different. It says ‘don’t run, you fuckin’ asshole. She’s right there. Take a chance.’ I’m scared shitless by all this and you- you slapped me in the face by demandin’ that I leave when I finally put myself on the line.”

Her eyes flickered and a familiar but unwanted knot formed in her throat. She tried to swallow it away but then her eyes grew hot and her vision turned glassy. She didn’t just have a hangover to contend with. Now, tears brimmed, at risk of overflowing and she gasped in a shaky breath. Daryl sprang up from the bed, horrified that he’d made her cry but glad that he’d managed to say his piece and let her know just how she’d made him feel.

“Oh god.” She whimpered, briefly covering her face with her hands and giving in to the onslaught of sadness that was rushing to the surface. Daryl could only slowly wander back and forth with his head tilted to the ceiling as if it held all the answers. “Daryl…I…will you look at me?” She pleaded.

“I can’t right now.” He uttered with a small shake of his head.

“Please, Daryl. Please look at me. Please.” She begged, her voice cracking and tears now streaming down her face. “I need you to look at me…please.”

It took every bit of his resolve but her helpless pleas were chipping away at him, with every request she cried at him, another piece of him seemed to fall away to nothing. He stopped walking and finally connected his eyes with hers through his messy hair.

“I didn’t mean to throw you out like I did. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never do that. My head was just so damn loud, I just needed to be alone. God, I handled this so badly and I’m so sorry. You can just say it, tell me I’m an asshole.”

“No” he refused.

“Please. Just say it. You hate me.” She was begging him with wet cheeks and even found herself taking a step forward before realizing that it was pointless. It didn’t matter how much space was in the room between them, she felt further away from him than she had ever been in the time since he’d walked back into her life. The air in the room seemed to turn thick and she felt like she might choke. Daryl stopped his anxiety induced ritual and willed himself to meet her eye for the sentence he was about to deliver. She needed to hear it and she also needed to believe it.

“I aint ever gonna hate you.” He assured her.

A breath left her lungs in a rush and she crumpled, her shoulders sagging and her body falling back and hitting the countertop behind her. Her back griped at the pain but it wasn’t as important enough as the sheer relief that was coursing through every fiber of her being.

He doesn’t hate me.

Moving to the window and skirting around bags and his crossbow, he looked out at the view beyond the diner. The sun was high in the sky and the entire fairground was bathed in its glow. Leaves on the trees in the distance glittered in the breeze and for a few, fleeting seconds he wished he was out there, stalking through the woods and hunting anything other than a resolution to such a complex and baffling subject. With his new found knowledge of Jess’s position, his chest felt tight with guilt when he remembered how events had unfolded.

“Shit.” He hissed to himself through fingers that were pressed against his mouth “I fuckin’ scared ya.” He stated as he turned back to her “When I pulled ya against me. If I’d known you’re a…” he trailed off, unsure if he could use the word and if it would offend her or not. “…y’know. I wouldn’t have gone that far. Why didn’t ya tell me?”

She tried to think of an occasion that it would have been appropriate to convey such a personal thing and came up with nothing. There was never a right time to discuss such matters and she considered that maybe she should have just mentioned it in passing, during one of their deep conversations and saved both of them from having to deal with such a difficult situation. Things didn’t always work the way people wanted them to though, the end of the world made sure of that. Had she known his intentions towards her were genuine, the chances of her dropping such a bombshell still would have been slim, try as she might, she couldn’t just shake off the embarrassment and shame of being such a late bloomer.

“How? When?” She sniffed, picking up a T-shirt from the box on the countertop and messily rubbing at her face with it. “There was no ideal moment for that. What was I supposed to say? ‘Please can you pass me that tin of beans, by the way I haven’t ever had sex before?’. I didn’t know you wanted me like that. I didn’t even know why you were kissing me. I thought maybe it was just a little fun for you until someone prettier came along.”

Her words were hanging in the air along with the dust particles that were illuminated by the light shining through the now uncovered window. Having to move and pack meant they needed more light but Jess found herself to be standing right in it, as if she were the subject of some kind of cruel joke while standing in a spotlight for everyone to see. But Daryl was the only other person present and that was suffocating enough. Her heart sank when he turned back to the window and began picking at the black paint on the glass, letting more light in, one, small fraction at a time.

“So that’s what you think of me” He stated quietly. “That I’d use you ‘n toss ya aside for somebody else.”

“I didn’t know. You wouldn’t talk about it. Why wouldn’t you go for someone prettier instead of wasting your time with me? I’m just-”

“-’Cause to me there ain’t nobody prettier than you, Jess!” he suddenly raged from nowhere, his body spinning around and his legs carrying him a couple of strides closer to her. She was silenced and after shock had taken control of her facial features, her mouth gradually fell open. Although he appeared angry, she could see it in his face and in the way he squeezed his eyes shut and bit down on his lip as if he was in pain – he was struggling to say what he wanted but was pushing through with total determination anyway. “What you’re sayin’, it’s bullshit. I wanna kiss you every god damn time I see you.” He told her, braving eye contact once more and finding that his outburst had taken her completely off guard. “It wasn’t no mistake. It never was. I knew what I was doin’ n’ I’ve known every time since. I know I should have talked to ya but…I just really don’t know how. Whatever’s happened between us, it’s happened ‘cause we both wanted it to n’ I know, Jess… I know it ain’t enough of an explanation to you, but right now it’s all I got ‘cause this whole thing it- it’s fuckin’ with my head.”

The only explanation he could offer her was so much more than he’d delivered before and finally, she felt as if they might be getting somewhere. There was still the small issue of her own self-esteem and how difficult it made it for her to accept such a thing to be true. What did he even see in her? What did she have that was so appealing to him? It was a mystery to her, but one that she was comfortable to live with for the time being. She appreciated his honesty, even more so after witnessing how tough it had been for him to say it.

“Thank you…for trying to explain.” She whispered.

“You believe me?” he shot back like he was reading her mind.

“As much as my suspicious mind allows me to.” Lying to him to save on the embarrassment was not an option. He was right, he’d put himself on the line and took a chance on her. She’d hurt him and thrown him out but now he was opening up in a way that was beyond uncomfortable for him and the least she could do was tell him the truth.

He moved back over to the bed, sitting down again and plucking at a thread on the knee of his jeans. He was staring at her. Relentless and intense. Her heart fluttered.

What is he doing?

“I know you like me” he admitted.

“What?” she asked.

“Heard ya, talkin’ to Aaron, a long time ago. I know you like me.”

Her reaction was both fascinating and endearing to him as he saw her hear tilt back, her eyes close and a small huff of breath leave her chest.

“For the love of god.” She growled to herself. She was so sick of being caught out with everything, every time she tried to be sneaky and under the radar it was exposed and she was left humiliated. Once, she’d moved in the shadows and eluded detection by Walkers and human’s alike. Once, she’d been nothing but a slight movement in the trees or a set of footprints in the dust. Now, it felt like everything she ever said or did was broadcast, just like back at the quarry when her journal was read out as if it were a public service announcement. “Good job I never joined the CIA or the FBI. Agent obvious over here.”

He couldn’t help it; he gave in and allowed the corner of his mouth to lift at the sight of her exasperation at being caught out. He decided to try and encourage her to do the same.

“Was the best thing I’d heard in a long time.” He said. She didn’t smile, but it was satisfying enough for Daryl to see her cheeks turn a light shade of pink and her eyes flit away from him and then back again. “Noticed how ya got all shy n’ shit and blushed a lot. Kinda like ya are now. But I wasn’t sure that ya liked me like that. I didn’t know what I was fuckin’ lookin’ for with that stuff, if I had an idea it would have died of loneliness. Then, I actually heard ya say it and…well, figured I better man the hell up n’ kiss ya, ‘fore ya changed ya damn mind. Still don’t get it, think ya must have hit your head real hard or somethin’.”

“Stop it” She mumbled. And there it was, subtle but undeniable, she smiled at him thinly. “Look, last night you didn’t force me to do anything. You asked my permission; you did everything right. But you know I didn’t always look like this, Daryl. Yeah, I’m now available with forty percent less fat but the insecurities? They’re still there. I’m real self-conscious and there were so many things going through my mind. I wasn’t ready, I didn’t want to disappoint you, I didn’t want to get pregnant, I didn’t want you to think I’m ugly and I didn’t want to be horrible at it. And as much as I thought I was over the attack; it was the only other time that somebody has ever touched me where you did. There was also the fact that it felt amazing and I was just so confused. Things were building up and it was serious and emotional and when you pulled me against you… it-it made it so real.”

He lowered his head and slowly rubbed the forefinger and thumb of one hand across his temples. She heard a strangled rasp of irritation emanate from him before he looked back over at her.

“Can’t stand that I scared ya.” He conveyed sincerely and with a certain degree of sadness that was not lost on Jess. It nudged at her need to reassure him.

“I’m a virgin. I was going to be scared anyway if it was you or somebody else. I know it’s weird and awkward and you can go right ahead and laugh if you want.” She joked with the flick of a hand in his direction.

“I look like I’m finding this funny to you? He shot at her with a sudden, tetchy change in tone. He was switching between moods so quickly it was starting to make her head spin.

“No. I’m just trying to lighten the mood. Dang.” She complained.

“I shouldn’t have done it. You didn’t want it.” He blurted out.

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t. I’ll back off.”

“No.” She said a little quicker than she’d intended “I mean, unless you don’t want to do the… uh, the kissing thing and…maybe more. Later. Not today. I have shit to do. I don’t-I don’t know. I mean, I understand if you don’t want to carry on with whatever the hell it is that we’ve been doing. I can’t exactly give you what you want”

“What I want?”

“Yeah, I have no experience and I’ll just be terrible” she dismissed shyly.

“You think that’s all I want?”

“What? No, I didn’t mean-”

Then, he laughed. A short, sarcastic laugh laced with anger. It meant Jess started to panic and she took a step back when he stood up and locked her in his sights.

“Do you really think I would have spent the last few weeks kissing you if that was all I wanted? Damn, Jess, that is a whole lotta effort to get laid for a guy that barely fuckin’ talks to folks. I really gave ya that impression?”

“N-No-” She stammered uselessly.

“What then, huh? You do, don’t ya? Ya think I only talk to ya because of that.”

“No! Oh my god. No. I don’t know about this stuff, okay? I don’t know how guys think or how any of this is supposed to work.” She tried. But it was already obvious that she was digging herself a rather large hole.

“How guys think? I ain’t like other guys, Jess! Ya ain’t worked that out yet?! I aint my fuckin’ brother!”

Her heart almost broke into two pieces at him ever entertaining the thought that he was anything like Merle. She’d seen first-hand the way Merle was with women. Chauvinistic. disrespectful. Rude. He treated them like objects, things he could pick up and use when he wanted. Daryl was the polar opposite and she couldn’t understand why he would ever think otherwise.

“I know!” She cried, before making a marked effort to lower her own voice so it didn’t escalate the situation. “I know you’re different and that’s a good thing. Jesus, you’re my superhero. My Bucky Barnes, Daryl. You know that. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

There it was again, that reference to her favourite superhero. He would never understand why she saw him that way, but he was willing to go with it, unable to ignore the pride it made him feel. After never having been anything to anyone, being someone’s superhero was definitely something he could live with. It told him that she did see a lot more in him that he ever did and also that she perceived him as turning into the better man that she always thought he was, under the Dixon brother façade.

“I ain’t offended” he grumbled.

“You are, but alright.” She scoffed.

“You gotta know that I ain’t all about that. I ain’t Merle. I’m not. I only-I only kiss you. It’s just you.” He stammered.

This can’t get much fuckin’ worse. Might as well take Abe’s advice n’ grab the bull by the nutsack.

“Fuck it. I’m just gonna say this. Don’t take it the wrong way.” Before he could give her time to respond, she blinked in surprise when he crossed the room and stopped in front of her, far enough away to not be imposing yet close enough that she could see the conflict behind his eyes. He could also detect the faint odour of liquor in the air and coupled with her temple rubbing and tired eyes, there could only be one reason.

Is she…hungover?!

“I know you n’ Abe are friends.” He stated, ignoring the fact that he could smell liquor a mile away, ever since he was a child, he’d been able to trace the smell of alcohol, his father had made sure of that. But it wasn’t the time to bring it up, there were more pressing matters. “He’s kickin’ kinda close to the damn mark if ya ask me but I know he thinks a lot of ya n’ I can’t argue with that. But Spencer… guy makes me madder than boiled owl n’ if he ever touches ya, I’ll fuckin’ kill him. Unless I’m threatening the likes of that asshat I ain’t ever good with words so… I wanted to show ya that you were wrong. If I said I didn’t have designs on ya last night, I’d be lyin’. I did want you. Think you could…feel that at the time.” He expressed, diverting his gaze from her face and hating the sensation of crawling dread in his veins. He was now so far out of his comfort zone, it was making him sweat.

“Yeah, that was um…new.” She mentioned, willing herself to stop talking but somehow, words continued to pour out of her mouth “Not altogether unpleasant but still…new. Not felt a whole lotta…um…those-that…before. Well, shit. I’m rambling. I’ll shut up.”

“Right” he huffed. She was pleased to find that despite her humiliating waffling, it had made him smile again and this time it was brighter and had changed his body language entirely. He leaned sideways on the countertop, relaxing his shoulders and Jess felt a rush of relief.

“I was just scared.” She told him.

“I know. S’ya first time. Pretty big deal. Should think ‘bout it n’ who ya want it to be with. Ya don’t want me, you can do better.” He expressed, picking a rag from the countertop and folding it in half. He smoothed his fingers along the crease and dumped it on the box that rested on a stool between them.

She wanted to grab him, shake him and tell him that there would never be anyone else because of one, very relevant reason; she loved him. The notion that she would ever bypass him was almost laughable. She moved away from the counter top to the couch and beckoned him to follow her. He did without question and set aside a pile of arrows so he could sit down at her side.

“Daryl, I trust you” Her voice lowered to a shy mumble “This is going to sound weird but I don’t get butterflies like most folks, I get frickin’ dragons flying around in there and that’s why I get all flustered and shy… because of you. You do that to me. Of course, It helps that you’re physically all that n’ a bag of potato chips. Why the hell would I want my first time to be anyone else but you?”

“Uh…” He rasped with a slow rub of his chin. He was shocked and his face screwed up in complete bafflement. He’d not faced such a declaration before and struggled to hide his amazement. “Really?!” he asked.

“Yes. Really. But you don’t have to. I totally get it if you don’t want to.”

“Nobody’s ever said nothin’ like that to me before. Means a lot…comin’ from you” he uttered. “If ya want this and you’re sure and I mean like, a hundred percent, then I’m with ya.”

“Oh. K. Good” She whispered, blushing furiously. Her cheeks were so hot it was starting to seep into the rest of her body but a quick glance at Daryl told her that she was not the only one feeling the heat of the topic.

After a few passing moments during which she quickly held her fingers to her cheeks in a failed attempt to cool them down, Daryl turned to her and studied her face without speaking for such a long time that she expected him to change his mind. He was torn between wanting the world for her and knowing he wasn’t good enough and feeling an electric and nearly unbreakable pull towards her all the time. He couldn’t wrap his mind around how she saw him but was extremely flattered, bashful and more than a little proud. Bowled over by the fact that she liked him enough to want to take such a step, he couldn’t help but worry about his lack of emotional experience when it came to intimacy. Having sex with someone hadn’t ever been more than a fumble in the dark, a drunken encounter or a means to an end for Daryl. Now, that would all change and he would be contending with something he wasn’t as aligned with as he would have liked.

“While we’re confessin’ …I ain’t…” he started, knowing that matching her brave confession would do wonders to quell her anxiety “…I ain’t ever had sex with nobody I gave a damn about. It was like - I dunno - it was always just a physical thing or somethin’ I did when I was drunk or high. Ain’t nobody ever trusted me with somethin’ so big before. Would kinda be a first for me too. Bein’ with somebody that matters.”

How is Aaron right about everything?! She thought.

“You really don’t have to” She reminded him.                    

“Jesus Christ” He growled in frustration as he leaned back on the sofa and sighed loudly. “Ya wanna have sex with me? Great, let’s do it. Ya don’t, that’s fine too. Alright?”

“Oh. O-OK.” She chuckled. He shook his head and was soon mirroring her, the both of them just about done with such a taxing conversation “I need to take things slow. Like, super slow.” She warned him.

“I know. I ain’t ever gonna make you do stuff ya ain’t good with. Just find a way to tell me if ya, y’know…”

“… wanna change up to second base?”

He laughed again, placing a hand on her knee. Her stomach flipped with excitement and happiness at the small gesture. It was like he was giving her confirmation and not just of their agreement, but of the fact that nothing between them had been damaged. In fact, it had strengthened due to their unabashed, yet tough to deliver honesty.

“Yeah. That.” He smiled.

“Thank you. For understanding. And not judging me.” She said as she positioned her hand over his and felt him lift his fingers, lacing them between her own.

“Don’t be stupid. I’d never judge ya for that shit. Ain’t really a bad thing. Better to be that way than fallin’ outta a dive bar with a different guy every night.” He mused with a shrug.

Curiosity was already starting to rear its head for Jess. She had questions, multiple questions but didn’t want to ask them all at once and risk undoing all their progress. And so, she chose one, single question that would have to suffice until a later date.

“You don’t have to answer this, but what was your first time like?” she questioned.

“Quick.” He answered without hesitation. “She was alright I guess, but I didn’t really know her. We was both high as shit. Got the job done but it was a damn mess.”

“The ‘job’?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah…first time, done. Just like that. I was just lookin’ forward to Merle easin’ up on callin’ me a fancy boy for a while.” He huffed.

She giggled quietly and looked down at their hands. Daryl had noted her vulnerability since they’d arrived at the fairground and while she still held some of it, she seemed happier as she slid her hand under his and watched him graze his thumb back and forth over her skin.

The curiosity was not only on Jess’s side. Daryl had questions too but was never one for probing for information, he usually waited until it was offered but things had changed and he thought that maybe he could be afforded an exception or two.

“There a bar ‘round here I don’t know about or somethin’?” he asked.

Her eyes widened and she slowly raised a hand to her face, breathing on her palm and sniffing it. Horrified by the result, she pressed the fingers of both hands to her lips and looked at him, shocked.

“Ahh I smell like a traaaamp.” She groaned. “I was sad. I might have had a little help to get me through the night. All it did was leave me with a headache and little to no dignity. I swear, I brushed my teeth. It’s like I have a cloud of Rum following me around.”

“Booze does that.” He smiled. “Mind if I ask ya somethin’ else?”

“Shoot. This can’t get much more embarrassing.”

“Ya ain’t never…almost?” he enquired warily

“No.” She shook her head , found his hand again and gripped his fingers that little bit tighter. “No guys ever liked me enough. Not even the asshole that lied about liking me. Thought the only dude that would be interested was Dracula.”

“What?” He chuckled.

“Y’know, my pure, virgin blood” she announced dramatically in a strange accent.

“Only thing your blood is gonna do is get Dracula fuckin’ hammered.”

She laughed loudly and Daryl was pleased to be moving out of the danger zone and back into their usual way of conversing. The subject matter being so personal only proved that what he’d seen as a setback was actually a stepping stone in the right direction.

“I’m a precious commodity in the supernatural world…Hey, maybe if you change your mind you could always sacrifice me to the volcano gods, or offer me up as some kind of bargaining chip to get rid of the Walkers. I hear Satan likes them pure.” She suggested in amusement.

He leaned into her and nestled at her neck, the soft brush of his lips on her skin made her close her eyes and tilt her head to allow him better access.

“Satan’s gonna have to find somebody else.”

Her heart, finally was somewhat at peace now she knew where she stood and although she couldn’t understand what it was that drew him to her in such a way, in that moment, she couldn’t have cared less. With his hand holding hers and his lips leaving small kisses along her neck, she was happy.

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Masterlist

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