#light consorting with shadows chapter 4

[power-rings]

Light Consorting with Shadows

Chapter 4: Ambush (edited version)

 Author’s note: I dug through my stories on my blog, went through my drafts and decided to touch up Chapter 4. I am planning on working on chapter 5 hopefully tonight!       

                                 *I don’t claim Aurora as my own, she rightfully belongs to @e-vay !

It was a long travel to a neighboring kingdom Murasia, and after they made their way through the forest, that was worth at least two days of trekking through, then they would need to travel by boat for until they arrived on the island where the older kingdom stood strong. For years, they had yearned to become allies, and finally sign a peace treaty; that Sonic didn’t feel the need to sign because a piece of paper did not mean a thing to him. It was the actions and the fellow king’s character that mattered to him, more.

He did not travel alone. His wife came along, and with much persuasion from his daughter she tagged along with her parents – he didn’t want to bring up the fact that this dude was interested in marrying his son off to Aurora.

In the wagon, being pulled by a pair of horses Aurora was currently resting on some silk sheets, surrounded by supplies in the wagon. She the puffy clouds pass over her head, and occasionally feeling the breeze tickling her face slightly soothed her. Oh, and the fact that she was no longer restricted in Camelot. She felt free... and perhaps forgetting her role as a princess altogether, if only for a short time. Sure there were knights surrounding her and her family to secure their safety, which she merely ignored many hours ago. Lancelot might’ve been great company too if he was actually being sociable. That wasn’t the case today, the dark hedgehog was far too focused on getting to their destination instead of making small talk with the princess. It surprised her how disappointed she felt because of how distant he was being. However, this feeling was quickly ignored when she realized how she was being quite selfish simply because the knight was on duty.

There was so much she wanted to do after they reached the village. Explore, interact with the villagers, try various foods the merchants may sell there, and even if it was a fleeting thought... perhaps sneak out of the glimpse of her royal bodyguards’ view to explore outside of the village walls. There were lots of sights she desired to see. But, she had to remind herself this wasn’t a vacation of any sort.

Aurora was soon startled awake when the wagon hit a pothole, and then suddenly coming to a complete stop. When she opened her eyes, she noticed that she stars were shining brightly. She was quite shocked on how long she had been asleep. She overheard her parents talking about setting camp here, and taking a break before continuing onward. Hopping out of the wagon, Aurora gave a stretch and a yawn before meeting up with her parents. Behind her, the horses kicked at the ground, neighed and shook their heads in response a knight approached the two horses to offer them some fresh water and food, and then guided them away from the path, leaving the wagon abandoned on the side of the road. The horses ate some more grass, and some apples provided by their caretakers. Once they decided where to setup camp, which was between several trees - only a faint shine from the moon peeked through providing them some light. Aurora caught a sight of Lancelot leaning against one tree, just observing his surrounding for any sight of danger. Her attention went back to her parents  who was laying out their bedding for the night, a goodnight kiss was exchanged between them, and as she wiggled underneath her blanket she heard her father whisper to her “Goodnight, Tiny.”

Whenever Aurora tried to fall asleep again she was quickly disturbed by the sound of creatures that were more lively during the nighttime. Owls, coyote’s yelping and even wolves howling, and her father’s snoring was the most disturbing of them all. With a sigh, Aurora left her bed. As she came near the tree Lancelot had been standing before she leaned against it to support her.

Snap! Came the sound of a twig, followed by the sound of footsteps. Starling her, Aurora quickly peeked over to the left of her to notice Lancelot was approaching her. All she could see through the darkness was his crimson eyes, and the moon shining off his armor. “Princess?” He cleared his throat to make a correction to his response, “Aurora. What are you doing awake?”

“Not tired.” She answered with a shrug, “I slept the whole way here.” Lancelot nodded in understanding, and came closer to stand in front of her. Aurora gave him a challenging look, “don’t even think about it. This is my tree.”

“Oh? I don’t see your name on it.” He knew she was only teasing, so he played along. Why not? It was gonna be a long night, he might as well make it a little interesting!

Aurora frowned at him, and then glanced around to look at the ground to search for a good stick to write her name on the tree. With her hand resting on the trunk, she inched a little further away from the tree to reach down and grab the stick. She turned, her back facing Lancelot now as she carved her name into the trunk of the tree. “There! Happy now?” She heard Lancelot stifle a soft laugh, and he shook his head, taking a step closer to take the stick she carved her name with.

“Hey! Don’t carve in my- What are you carving, anyway?” Lancelot gestured for her to wait, and she stood next to him, struggling to see what he was carving into the tree. As she waited, Aurora tapped her foot impatiently until Lancelot moved aside.

“Fixed it.”

She gave him a suspicious look before checking to see what he carved into the tree. It read: “Lancelot was here first”. She turned around to face him again, “how old are you? Five?”

“Tch. Says the one who started this fight over a tree.”

“....Hmph! I bet you can’t climb it!” A wide grin spread across her face.

Lancelot glanced up to the nearest branch - which would be a huge challenge for either of them no matter how skilled they were in climbing. “Actually, I don’t think-” Before Lancelot could argue back, Aurora was already attempting to climb it. She struggled to even reach the nearest branch, she dug her nails into the bark to and pushed herself up only to lose her footing on the side of the tree when getting a tad closer to the branch. As she fell, it was all a blur until she felt two strong arms around her before hitting the ground. They looked at each other, in silence.

“Don’t you dare say it.” Aurora gave a nervous laugh, and walked away from the knight.

“Say what?”

“I told you so.”

Lancelot looked away, but that smirk didn’t go unnoticed by Aurora whatsoever. “... I was actually gonna say you lost your own bet.”

-

The following day, they were heading in the direction of the deep forest that stretched for miles and miles. There was no other route to take unless they preferred to take a boat across the borderline. It was a risky journey ahead, for the forest packed lots of traps and horrific legends that left man and women shaking. Theories of ghosts haunting were spread across the land, which lead them to believe that is why many who traveled here never returned. Instead of hesitation among the group, however. Sonic led them onward displaying no sign of fear whatsoever. This was typical of the hedgehog and everyone simply went along, trusting their leader’s intuition instead of dwelling on childish fairy tales.

For a couple hours they continued onward without stopping for a break, until the horses needed to be tended to and the canteens that had been provided for the whole group was refilled with fresh water that they gathered from a nearby stream. Some of the knights removed their helmets and poured some water on their heads to cool them off while others gathered some snacks, and found themselves a comfortable seat on the damp grass. With the soothing breeze, and their quiet surroundings it was a struggle for many to not dose off right that second. Once the horses’ restored their energy again, they kicked at the ground, and tugged at the restraints as if they were ready to take on without the group. Sonic was the first to stand up and encourage the others to get back on their feet again. They were wasting precious daylight! Every knight returned in their designated position among the group like before, but not without giving a sigh of complaint for having such a short break, yet they respected the king’s wishes and made themselves ready for the rest of the journey for the day.

Following alongside her parents, Aurora caught a glimpse of Lancelot in the corner of her eye. He was gripping his hilt of his sword awfully tight. Taking a few steps away from her parents, she quietly approached the knight and elbowed him gently. Who in turn, quickly glanced in her direction. “You’re not nervous about those ghosts, are you?”

“I have a feeling ghosts will be the least of our worries, princess.” Her eyebrows arched slightly when Lancelot was being so vague.

“That’s awfully vague... what are you nervous about then?”

It surprised him somewhat that she picked up on his body language so quickly in the first place. Yet at the same time... after being in her company more often, she could’ve caught on to many of his quirks and habits in that period of time. Is it really that obvious? No matter, Lancelot was standing his ground by completely ignoring the following question and focused on their surroundings instead. Why should he worry her with his suspicion?  

                                                         ~~~

  “Aurora?” That voice sounded all too familiar, and only few that she was close to called her by her name. Gradually that voice encouraged her to fight the pain. The princess’s eyes begun to open, blinking up at the handsome knight hovering above her. Everything was hazy. Squinting, and slowly lifting her head. “Don’t move.” The knight’s voice was soft, but stern. With a groan, she obeyed and rested her head. What in the world happened? Why did her head hurt so bad? She was bearing tons of questions that she was fearing to discover the answers to.

She rested her eyes momentarily, until she was disturbed with that throbbing pain on the back of her head, and the terrible ringing in her ears. The princess took notice that Lancelot was no longer beside her. Here in a tent, all alone. Her body ached when she moved any. Something awful had taken place, that was for sure. She called out, her voice straining. Then, she heard footsteps and a shadow came closer to her tent. Peeking in, it was the unmasked knight – Lancelot. When he discovered she was awake, he entered the tent, crouching down to her level. She raised a brow, taking in his appearance. He had a cut along his eye, and jawline. Aurora opened her mouth to speak, only to find a canteen of water presented before her. She desperately desired for some water, and so she gladly took his offer without another word.

The refreshing sips of water seemed to help gain her voice back, “w-what happened?” She watched the flame flicker in the lantern, that seemed to grow duller and duller.

It was that dreaded question Lancelot wasn’t prepared for. He felt like a failure to the royal family. However, he couldn’t hide it for too long. She would be able to figure it out soon enough. Without looking at her, the knight sighed. “We were ambushed, the other night.” Well, that clarified why Lancelot was injured. He must’ve fought hard.

Aurora lifted her gaze to watch the knight’s face, watching for a change in his expression. “Is everyone okay…?” Hell, she was surprised her parents wasn’t freaking out about her being knocked out. Other than that, she heard no commotion outside. No stirring of feet, hooves beating against the ground, just the eerie stillness of the forest.

“There was a huge number of attackers, Aurora. Some of us made it through okay, while…” The solemn tone suggested that something tragic had happened, that she was unaware of.

She swallowed thickly, and her chest tightened. “Mom and dad?” Immediately, she noticed Lancelot clenching up his fist.

“They were taken.” Their eyes met, and Aurora could’ve sworn she saw sorrow in his eyes. It was a rare sight. Of course, it made sense though. Lancelot cared a lot about her and her parents, and the very kingdom itself.

More questions filled the princess’ head. Who took her parents away, and why? “W-we have to find them!” She exclaimed with determination, although, her voice cracking with emotion did not help her sound so strong. Fighting through the pain, she slowly stood to her feet, albeit very wobbly as she did so. Lancelot was on his feet in a heartbeat, and quickly steadied her before she fell. Don’t need her bumping her head again, he thought.

“Aurora, we have to plan this out. But, first… you need medical attention. You bumped your head- “

She jerked away from him, only to stumble and almost fell out of the tent in a very unfashionable way. “N-No! They may hurt them… or w-worse!” And then, there came the tears.

The knight’s hands rested on her shoulders, and turned her around to face him. “Aurora, I will do anything in my power to get them back to safety. But, we must look at this in a realistic way.” He paused, once Aurora finally met his gaze again; shimmering with fresh tears. “I would like to remind you that your father probably has this situation well under control… in his own way. “Aurora gave a nod. She felt dizzy now. Both from the head injury and the stress of the news she just received.

                                                           ~~~

It was a bit of a risk as they took the boat to the nearby island, that was home to the Murasian’s civilization. It did not look like much from afar, but this very kingdom use to dominate most of the world until the former king had been brutally murdered. His great grandson took over, bringing peace for years to come. During King Alastair’s reign, the civilization was known for their advancement in technology, and many desired trade with them. Camelot’s civilization was the only outsider that the Murasian’s accepted as their allies, and would trade with them in the future.

They were indeed expecting the royal family to set foot on their territory, but would they be friendly when they discover that the king and queen were not with them? It would defiantly look sketchy. Lancelot took Aurora’s hand, and helped her along the shore. Not far from the shoreline, there were stone steps up ahead. Lancelot stood there, surveying the walls that protected the kingdom; feeling weary of archers that may be standing on top.

“Let me go first.” Aurora offered, stepping ahead of him. His eyes grew wide, slightly startled by such a bold move.

“No.” He grabbed her by the wrist gently, “you’re not leaving my side.”

“I can protect myself.” She stubbornly remarked, “what if they recognize-“The sound of a loud horn hurt their ears. Lancelot saw a figure on top of the towers, and he pushed himself onto Aurora, her back against the stone wall. She opened her mouth to speak, only to be hushed by the knight. She glared at him with piercing emerald eyes.

It wasn’t until they heard something from behind them. It sounded like voices, and then from the corner of Lancelot’s eye he noticed a with two passengers paddling to the shore. He cursed under his breath as begun to pick up the containers being carried on the boat, and stepped off the boat, now walking closer to the steps. One of the men noticed the two immediately. His eyes darkened, and he dropped his things. He pulled out a dagger. “State the meaning of your presence. Now.”

Lancelot gave Aurora some room, now standing in front of her. For once, the knight did not pull out his sword. He wanted to make this as peaceful as possible. Aurora needed medical help, and they needed assistance in finding the king and queen. Calmly, he stood his ground as another native came forward – who left his belongings next to the other container. “I am Sir Lancelot of Camelot. We came for your assistance.” The two Murasians looked at each other, and slowly lowered the dagger held in tightly in their grasps.

“Camelot, you say? The King Alastair was supposed to meet with King Sonic. If you say you’re with King Sonic, dare I say. Where is he now?” The taller and muscular individual stared the two down, harshly. 

“That’s why we came. My majesty and his queen was kidnapped the other night.” Their eyes grew wide, but they were still skeptical of the whole situation. The older and smaller Murasian took a step forward, “and who are you, miss?” He pointed with his dagger in the direction of Aurora.

“I am Sonic’s daughter, Princess Aurora.” It rolled off her tongue, after saying that same phrase for many years.

“Well, well. The king would be happy to see you, M’lady.” He coughed, “despite the circumstances. My apologizes. We shall take you to him, then. Perhaps he’ll even assist in your search.” Grabbing their belongings, the natives led the pair up the stairs to be welcomed to an almost ancient appearance, with a touch of modern buildings spotted here and there. Walking further down the pathway, they did not meet very many of Murasians out and about, and if they did there were some odd glances sent their way. The guards at the gate, which blocked the entrance to the castle stood upright and looked at the fellow citizens, which now Lancelot and Aurora soon learned were the ones who conducted trade with other civilizations. The youngest of the two, spoke to the guards in a hushed voice. He glanced at Aurora, gave a nod and stepped aside to open the gate. Inside the palace, they admired their surroundings. It was nice here, but it definitely wasn’t like home. Ironic how Aurora had wanted to get outside of the walls of Camelot, however, due to the situation at hand, she desperately just wanted to be back home instead... safe with her parents.

“What’s this all about?” That deep voice sounded from the walls of the palace. Immediately, the traders fell to their knees. Lancelot and Aurora did not follow along, which earned a disapproval scowl from the king. “No kneeling before my presence?” Alastair scoffed, he stepped forward. Lancelot stared him straight in the eye unmoved by his cold stare.

“You are not my king, therefore I refuse to kneel.” Such a bold move that would have cost the lives of many that spoke to him in a manner just like this.

“Is that so? Then who is your king?”

“King Sonic.” Alastair was taken aback. “That doesn’t make sense. If he’s not bold enough to face me, then we can’t settle the deal.”

“No, sir. Sonic and his queen Amy was taken while we were camping.” Everything was becoming clearer now, and Alastair’s gaze seemed to soften ever so slightly. The Princess was introduced soon after, and then Lancelot mentioned seeking medical attention for her. It wasn’t long before one of the servants came back with the middle-aged physician who took Aurora away to be examined. The rest of the evening, the knight, the king of Murasia and his son Baron talked about finding the royal couple of Camelot. They concluded that there wasn’t much that could be done, especially without any clues of who these attackers were and where they even came from. However, Alastair was willing to assist with his strongest soldiers alongside to fight whatever forces that may intervene in the couple’s safety. “Now, I want you to realize that I suspect something in return for my assistance when they are found..” He retorted, his gaze once more cold, but the knight wasn’t fazed, and stood stiff under his gaze, they quietly settled on an agreement, the King dismissed Lancelot while Alastair found his men dressed in heavy armor to discuss the plan.

                                                       ~~~

Lancelot took a quick bath, and made his way down the hallway. They were in a building connected to the palace where the physician was nearby. The other rooms sometimes housed patients with severe illnesses, but now there were only a few rooms that were currently being used. The room at the end of the corridor had been where Aurora was staying the night. The knight lightly knocked on the door, before being greeted with a soft “come in” from the princess.

“Hey.”

Aurora perked up when noticing it wasn’t her doctor, but instead it was a familiar face who wasn’t asking her a thousand questions that concerned her wellbeing. She smiled faintly. “Hi.”

Lancelot looked around the room, kind of awkward. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Nope.” She seemed a bit more upbeat now that she had something to take for the pain, and a warm place to rest. She invited him to join her at the end of the bed.

“I miss being at home…” After longest span of silence between the two Aurora spoke up again. If she hadn’t, Lancelot would have been asleep by now.

Lancelot mumbled something under his breath, and rubbed at his eyes. “I can understand why.”

“Don’t you miss being at home?”

He wasn’t sure if he was making the right connections to her question. Lancelot looked at her, his brow raised slightly. Was she implying Camelot, or his home before he entered knighthood? He did not know. It was possible she was asking about his past; since there were still a lot he hadn’t told her. “…I do.”      

Aurora gave a yawn, and stretched out those stiff muscles. “It all feels like a dream, you know.” If that was so, it would be great time to wake up by now!

“It’ll be over, soon. Until then, you need your rest.” The dark knight stood to his feet, and was about to walk away until he felt her hand grasp a hold of his own. He gave it a light squeeze.

 “Please… don’t leave.”

Heat rushed to his cheeks. Sharing a bed with her? She can’t be serious! Sonic would have his head! “No we shouldn’t- “

“Okay, first of all. You have a dirty mind. Secondly,” she raised her voice slightly, showing she was frustrated that the knight jumped to conclusions. “we don’t have to share the bed. You can take that ugly couch.” Aurora grinned, pointing towards the furniture. 

Boy, did he feel stupid. “I knew that.” He frowned. Refusing to look her way until his cheeks weren’t red as a tomato. He walked away, kicked off his boots, and took off his gloves before settling down.

“Goodnight my fair knight.” She stifled a laugh, before rolling over on her side.  

 “Goodnight, m’lady.”    

“Goodnight, Lancey.”          

“Stop that.”          

Another giggle from the other side of the room, “wait! I’ve got one more I promise.” The knight gave a sigh, but waited. It was like being in the same room as her father. They were certainly two peas in a pod.

“Goodnight my- uh.” Aurora gave an awkward laugh, “I lost it.”

“I’ve noticed.” Through the darkness, Lancelot grinned wider. “Now, get some sleep Rory.” In response, Aurora snorted at his remark, when she closed her eyes slumber quickly took over her.

[downstarr]

The Consort (complete)

The Consort (11364 words) by downstar Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Characters: Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins, Balin (Tolkien) Additional Tags: Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Domestic Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Established Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield Fluff, Consort Bilbo Baggins, POV Bilbo Baggins, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Misunderstandings, Dwarf & Hobbit Cultural Differences, Dwarf/Hobbit Relationship(s), Dwarf Gender Concepts, Dwarf Courting, Domestic Fluff, Non-Graphic Smut, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Cultural Differences, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Boyfriends, Gentleness Series: Part 2 of The Quiet Moments - Bilbo and Thorin Summary: After a confession of their feelings, Bilbo returns to Erebor with Thorin. The great city is in the process of rebuilding, and Thorin is settling into his role as his king. Word is getting around that their king has asked an outsider - a hobbit! - to be his consort. Can their burgeoning relationship survive the pressures of kingship and cultural misunderstandings? --- This fic carries on in continuity from my one-shot The King and the Hobbit. It's part of a series of one-shots or short pieces that exist within the same continuity and in the same timeline. Check the previous fic in this collection for the story of how the two of them got together.

Excerpt:

One evening, a few weeks into his stay in Erebor, Bilbo sat hunched over a heavy metal desk, perched high on a pair of cushions, his hairy feet dangling off the edge of the chair. He’d been hard at work for hours, drafting what would one day become the first chapter of their fated quest. 

Thorin approached him from behind and set his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’m going to sleep. Join me when you’re ready. Don’t hurry on my account. Your candlelight does not bother me.” 

“Mhmm, be there soon,” replied Bilbo, his brow furrowed in concentration as he mouthed the words of the sentence he was trying to get just right. “Ah, Thorin, Thorin…” he looked up suddenly and swiveled around.

Thorin had just finished ducking out of his embroidered tunic. The flickering light of the roaring hearth set into the wall and the dim glow of the sunstones huddled up against Bilbo’s plants tossed flattering shadows across the thick muscle of his back. It also highlighted the pure white scar tissue rimmed in silver where Azog’s blade had sliced him through. Elvish medicine had saved his life, but he would always bear the mark of his nemesis and feel the wound echoed in the movement of his body. 

Thorin looked over his shoulder and lifted a brow when Bilbo called his name. “Mhmm?”

Bilbo found himself staring. He still wasn’t used to seeing the dwarven king in a state of undress, especially in so casual and intimate a moment. A physique such as Thorin’s was unknown among hobbits, which went some of the way towards explaining why Bilbo had never found a lover among his own kind. There was much more there, of course, but the physical nature of his attraction had caught him off-guard more than once since he’d found the courage to acknowledge it. 

Thorin noticed Bilbo’s wandering gaze and turned around. He made a bit of a cheeky show of leaning up against the wall next to the hearth, as if aware that the firelight did much to flatter his body. 

Bilbo swallowed, twitched his nose and tap-tapped his pen against a spare bit of paper he used to blot the ink. “Do you…” he cleared his throat, “...do you think there’s someone who could teach me Khuzdul? I should like to add some dwarvish script to my book. I’ve also heard that Smaug left the archive virtually untouched and there are many wonderful and ancient tomes that are still in good condition. But I can’t read any of them. And that…” he rapped his pen again, “... is a speeeeecial kind of torture.”

Thorin was a stoic man, capable of very subtle expressions. But the delight at hearing Bilbo’s request was immediate and obvious. He smiled, his eyes lighting up as warm as hearthfire. He crossed the great chamber to Bilbo’s side and reached out to cup his cheek. “I will send for a scholar from the Iron Hills to be your tutor. You will have the advantage of learning under a master of languages.” 

“That’s really not necessary. I can muddle along with some references and a helper. I don’t want you to go to a lot of trouble,” Bilbo replied. He felt the tips of his ears burn red, and he was suddenly grateful for the mess of his hair and the low shimmer of light. 

[sasaranomiya]

Koukyuu no Karasu Volume 4 Chapter 1 - The Silkworm God (Part 1)

hey guys im back~~~ this chapter was supposed to come out way earlier but i got sidetracked

Previous || Index || Next

The moon sank into the sea and became two gods:

One the god of shadow, one the god of light

Eight thousand nights they spent at the sea.

The first god secluding in the black palace

The second god cavorting in the palace of the moon

And thus, one became Kakurenomiya

And the other became Sasaranomiya

Another god became the port of Kakurenomiya

This was the Great Sea Turtle God

The god had sinned, and was thus rent into eight parts

The flowing water carried them away from the palace

Its head was Jie, its arms were Bahuang, its legs were Gulu

Its carapace became canyons, its blood transformed into rivers

Its eyes became swamps, its breath became a maelstrom that called the tide

Ears of rice ripened in its rotting flesh and degenerated into seeds

The mulberry tree grows, the silkworm grows, and mankind grows

Its bones were made one once again, and the white turtle god was formed

His name was Gou-no-Kami

This god calmed the violent seas to protect ships

The descendants of these gods began

The bloodline of the white king, the emperor—

――From a ritual song of wubangs

There were bundles of raw silk packed in a wooden box in front of Banka. The milk-colored raw silk, resembling morning mist, had a moist luster. Her father, Chouyou, had sent her some of the finest raw silk from Ga Province.

Ga Province’s raw silk was considered to be of the highest quality in the nation of Shou. The province’s sericulture industry began with the silkworms brought by the Saname clan when they migrated here from Kakami, and it had the reputation it developed today after Chouyou devoted himself to selectively breeding the silkworms. Banka had been taking care of the silkworms since childhood under his orders. Spring silkworms, summer silkworms, autumn silkworms, late-autumn silkworms…everyday, she picked mulberry leaves, fed them to the silkworms, cleaned, moved the place where they made their cocoons during their maturing period, sorted them based on their shells after they became cocoons, and repeated that year after year.

Banka liked listening to the sound of the silkworms eating mulberry leaves. When she sat in a corner of the cocoonery and listened closely to the sound of silkworms feasting on the leaves, she felt calm as if being enveloped in gentle rain. It was the sound of life itself.

That was why, when she watched the sorted cocoons being boiled in hot water and their threads taken out, she felt a cold shadow in her heart. The sound of boiling water was the sound of life being torn away. However, the threads spun in this way shined coldly and was above all beautiful.

Whenever the silk slid over her skin, there was always a blue-black chill, like a winter shade.

Banka picked up a bundle of raw silk from the box.

The bundle was tied with paper. Banka stuck her finger in there. Unscrupulous merchants would cheat the weight by rolling in lead or scrap iron into the bundles. Of course, there were no such tricks in packages from her father, but there were other tricks. Banka’s finger felt for the paper string pasted to the back of the paper. Unlike ordinary letters, letters he didn’t want other people seeing were always delivered in this way. She removed the paper string and opened it carefully. A short sentence written in her father’s handwriting was on the thin strip of paper.

“Don’t get involved with the Raven Consort.”

Banka’s breath caught.

Why?

Her father’s written orders never contained reasons. Banka simply obeyed his words. That was why she informed him about everything that happened in the inner palace, and let him know how the emperor looked whenever she was near him. She could do these things only because she thought it was for the best interests of her father, and by extension, the Saname clan.

That was why she wrote about Jusetsu’s secret in her letter. The fact that she hid the color of her hair.

She told him the secret of Jusetsu, who saved her life, who she even wanted to be friends with.

After much hesitation, she weighed Jusetsu and her father, and in the end, Banka chose her father.

She didn’t know why her father, who knew Jusetsu’s secret, ordered her “not to get involved with her.”

However, she didn’t need to be ordered to do that. She didn’t know what kind of face she should make when she saw Jusetsu from now on. They could no longer be friends.

Banka stroked the raw silk. It was cool, but she felt a heat that bounced off her hand as she stroked it. It was the heat of life. Of harvested life.

I’m sure I don’t hold a heat like this.

Banka recalled the sorting of cocoons. It was the work of sorting the good cocoons from the bad ones. Among the bad ones, there was the so-called dead cocoons. The moth had died inside the cocoon and it rotted. A rotten, mushy cocoon.

I’m the same as them.

Unbeknownst to anyone, I rotted on the inside, and now I’m dead on the inside…

“I heard that there’s a ghost in the cocoonery.”

Jiujiu didn’t talk about that rumor until nightfall. As the weather got cooler day by day, the sun set earlier. As usual, Yamei Palace was quietly plunged into darkness without any of the lanterns lit. The sound of insects could be heard in the distance. The only people in the room were Jusetsu and her attendant, Jiujiu. Even though Jusetsu told her it was fine, Jiujiu stayed up with her until late at night. This was because of the guests who visited the Raven Consort at night. They relied on the black-clad consort would accept any request from searching for lost items to curse killings, so the people of the inner palace hid away from prying eyes in the darkness of the night and came here.

“Where?” Jusetsu asked back at the unfamiliar words.

“The cocoonery. It’s the place where the silkworms are raised.”

“There was something like that in the inner palace?”

“Apparently, there is a mulberry grove north of Hakkaku Palace. It’s located there. It was also there during the previous dynasty and the reign of the emperor before the last. The previous emperor’s wife disliked silkworms, so the cocoonery was demolished, but His Majesty built a new one. You see, the Crane Consort’s family runs a thriving sericulture business.”

“Banka’s family…the Saname clan?”

“Yes. The cocoonery was built for the Crane Consort. Apparently, she also helped raise silkworms back home. It’s the palace ladies of the Hakkaku Palace who work in this cocoonery, though.”

This is where we come to the main topic, Jiujiu said.

“People are saying that it’s haunted.”

“Oh? Is it a silkworm ghost?”

“No, it’s the ghost of a palace lady.”

According to Jiujiu, this was the story.

During the previous dynasty, there was a palace lady who worked in the cocoonery. One time, she accidentally stepped on a silkworm and killed it. But she kept silent without confessing her crime. After all, she would be punished if she did. That night, however, she suddenly began to suffer in pain and started to vomit silk from her mouth. The raw silk kept coming out without ever ending. Her body wasted away as more silk came out. When one of the palace ladies hurriedly cut the silk with a pair of scissors, she collapsed and died. Her hair had become white like raw silk.

“It’s the silkworm’s curse,” Jiujiu said fearfully and pressed her hand to her cheek. Jusetsu tilted her head to the side.

“Then is that not a story about a palace lady who was cursed and killed? I don’t believe it has to do with the ghost.”

“That’s where the story begins, Niangniang. The ghost of the palace lady who died from this curse is said to haunt the cocoonery. It’s said that she would appear there from time to time and take care of the silkworms while mixed in with the other palace ladies. She blends into the group while no one is paying attention, and once someone realizes that she’s there, she disappears. They say that she also showed up during the reign of the emperor before the last. The cocoonery didn’t exist during the previous reign, so it seemed that she never appeared, but—”

“After the cocoonery was rebuilt, the ghost appeared again.”

“That’s right, Niangniang,” Jiujiu nodded deeply.

“She didn’t seem to have harmed or cursed the other palace ladies, but the Hakkaku Palace palace ladies are terrified.”

“Did you hear that from them?”

“No, from a palace lady at Enou Palace. I heard it when I went there to get scrap paper for Ishiha’s writing practice.”

Yamei Palace’s boy eunuch, Ishiha, was currently learning to read and write, and he needed all the paper that he could get. That was why they asked for scrap paper from many people.

Every palace had chatty palace ladies, and Jiujiu gathered gossip whenever she went on such errands. She got useful information, as well as trivial ghost stories.

“If it didn’t come from the people involved, then there is no way to know how true it is.”

“Shall I ask a palace lady from Hakkaku Palace, then?”

“You need not go that—” Jusetsu stopped and looked at the doors. Xingxing the golden bird was flapping its wings. They had a visitor.

“Niangniang,” the voice that came from the other side of the door belonged to her bodyguard eunuch, Onkei. “I’ve brought a palace lady who got lost in the woods.”

Yamei Palace was surrounded by a lush forest of laurels and rhododendrons. The forest, which was dim even during the day, was even darker at night when the moon was covered with clouds like today. One could lose their way if one wasn’t careful.

When the doors opened, Onkei brought with him a petite palace lady who had an anxious expression on her face. She knelt in front of Jusetsu and bowed. Onkei went back outside after saying, “Tan Kai will slack off immediately if you take your eyes off him.” Tan Kai was her other bodyguard eunuch. Contrary to the taciturn and austere Onkei, he was chatty and often lazy.

“Lady Raven Consort, I have come to ask you for a favor.”

After saying that, the palace lady prostrated herself in front of Jusetsu as kowtowing towards her. Her feeble voice sounded strained. She seemed to have an urgent request.

“I cannot hear you very well from there. Come here and sit down.”

Jusetsu pointed to the chair across from her. The palace lady stood up, looking somewhat puzzled, and hesitantly walked over.

“Your name?” Jusetsu asked bluntly.

“My family name is Nen, and my given name is Shuuji. I belong to Hakkaku Palace, but I mainly work in the cocoonery.”

Jusetsu met eyes with Jiujiu, who was standing next to her. She knew that even without going to Hakkaku Palace, if something really happened, someone would come here. But she never expected them to show up at such a convenient time.

“Is there a ghost haunting the cocoonery?”

“You knew about that, Lady Raven Consort?”

As expected of the Raven Consort, Shuuji said in awe, but Jusetsu corrected her. “No, I merely overheard the rumors.” It would be troublesome if people thought she could read minds.

“I heard that it’s the ghost of a palace lady.”

“Yes. Apparently, it’s the ghost of a palace lady who died from the silkworm’s curse in the previous dynasty.”

Shuuji’s story about the ghost was the same as the rumors Jusetsu heard from Jiujiu.

“Before I knew it, that ghost was in the cocoonery. When I was carrying the mulberry leaves and feeding the silkworms, I was so busy that I barely even glanced at all the palace ladies’ faces. Then, when I suddenly looked up, I saw an unfamiliar palace lady giving mulberry leaves to the silkworms. I cried out in surprise, and she suddenly disappeared. There are others who had seen her besides me.”

Shuuji said that since, the ghost had often appeared in the cocoonery.

“But if that was all, I wouldn’t have come here to consult you, Lady Raven Consort. Taking care of the silkworms is a busy job, so we honestly don’t have time to worry about one or two ghosts. She appears suddenly and disappears just as suddenly, and she’s harmless, so everyone soon got used to her. We were more focused on successfully raising the silkworms and making them into good cocoons.”

But then…Shuuji’s face clouded over.

“Someone has been harmed?”

Shuuji nodded. “Yes. But no one has been sick or injured. No, it’s more worrisome than that.”

With a pale face, she lowered her head.

“Worrisome?”

“Cocoons have gone missing.”

Jusetsu was somewhat disappointed. “That’s worrisome?”

“It’s very important to us. The silkworms raised in that house belong to the Crane Consort, and by extension, His Majesty. We must not let even a single one die in vain, much less letting them go missing.”

“How many are missing?”

“Two as of now.”

“How do you know that only a few have been lost? You must be raising a lot of silkworms in the cocoonery.”

“It would be almost impossible to tell when they are larvae, but when they are matured silkworms, that is, ready to make cocoons, they are moved to a cocoon-making area made of straw called the cocoon holders. We put one silkworm in there each morning, so we would know if the cocoons that have formed there are missing. The missing cocoons were the ones that had been completed and all that remained was to remove the fluff, but yesterday, when we suddenly took our eyes off them, they were gone…”

“Are you saying that’s the work of the ghost?”

“Of course, at first, we thought that maybe they had fallen out of the cocoon holders for some reason, so we searched not only the floor, but also the entire room. We even searched the palace ladies’ clothing. But we couldn’t find them. In the midst of all this, one palace lady mentioned something. She said that the ghost had appeared right before the cocoons went missing. She thought it was the aforementioned ghost, so she let her be, just like everyone else… I have never seen the ghost take a cocoon, but there is no other way. After we entered the house, no one left until the loss was discovered. Even so, the cocoons weren’t found in the room or the clothing. So it cannot be that one of us took them. In the first place, we are the ones who will be punished if a cocoon goes missing, so there is no way one of us would do something like that.”

“Indeed, your logic is sound,” Jusetsu nodded.

“Because the cocoons have yet to be collected, the cocoon numbers haven’t been reported to the Crane Consort yet. So, we all decided to claim that the cocoons died. …Um…”

Shuuji glanced at Jusetsu.

“I won’t tell the Crane Consort.”

After Jusetsu said that, Shuuji looked relieved and continued talking.

“However, if the ghost appears again and takes more cocoons…starting tomorrow, we will have to collect the finished cocoons. After collecting them and sorting them into good cocoons and bad, if some of the good ones disappear, it will all be over. They are counted, so we can’t cover it up.”

Punishment would then await them. That was why Shuuji called it worrisome.

“The ghost of a palace lady who died after being cursed by the silkworms is now taking their cocoons…” Jusetsu murmured.

“Even if you cover up the loss this time, it would difficult to do it again in the future.”

“Yes. In the Crane Consort’s cocoonery, we raise silkworms three times in spring, summer, and autumn. I feel my body wasting away when I think of the possibility of this happening again.”

Shuuji covered her face with her sleeve. Hmm, Jusetsu pondered.

“If it really is the work of ghosts, then we would be one step behind if we take our time investigating the ghost’s circumstances. For the time being, I can create a barrier in the cocoonery to prevent the ghost from appearing…”

“Can you really do that?” Shuuji raised her head.

“I cannot say anything unless I see the ghost.”

“Yes, by all means, please go ahead.”

Shuuji looked overjoyed enough to clasp Jusetsu’s hands, but her expression immediately darkened again.

“Lady Raven Consort, I have another problem.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the missing cocoons. If it’s true that they are completely gone, then it’s fine, but if the ghost took them somewhere else, that would be a problem.”

“Why?”

“The silkworms in that house are Ga Province silkworms. They are not local. In the event that those silkworms emerge and cross-breed with wild or domestic silkworms in this area, that will cause great problems. It will ruin their breed.”

“Ah…I see.”

Problems like that exist? She thought

“Then, do you want me to find the location of the cocoons?”

“The moths emerge from their cocoons after about ten days. We have to find them before that…”

Shuuji covered her face. She seemed overwhelmed by this sudden disaster.

“I think it would be a good idea to explain the situation to Banka—the Crane Consort. I don’t think she would give you a severe punishment.”

“…That may be true for the Crane Consort, but…” Shuuji trailed off and looked down. “Her father…”

“Banka’s father? The head of the Saname clan?”

“Yes…” Shuuji’s gaze wandered. “The Crane Consort’s father is very strict, and she cannot go against him. If he tells her to hand down a strict punishment, she will obey him.”

He’s the man who told Banka to choose between her own life or the life of her adopted sister.

The Saname clan was cursed by a god to have the youngest daughter of the clan head to die at fifteen. In order to circumvent that, a girl younger than Banka was adopted into the clan. Banka begged her father to save her sister, but he told her that she herself should choose to die instead if that was the case. As a result, the adopted daughter died, and Banka lived. Jusetsu wondered what kind of man Saname Chouyou was for forcing his daughter to make such a choice.

Shuuji covered her mouth with her sleeve.

“I’ve said too much. Please forget it.”

Jusetsu promised to go to the cocoonery tomorrow, and then Shuuji left.

“The Crane Consort seems to be an easygoing person, but her father is very strict. Even the palace ladies are afraid of him,” Jiujiu, who had been standing by in silence, opened her mouth like she couldn’t wait to speak. “The behavior of a consort will probably reflect the inclinations of her family to some extent…”

Jusetsu turned her face to the window. She couldn’t see Hakkaku Palace from here.

If Banka—Hakkaku Palace was at the will of Saname Chouyou, that was something to think about.

Koushun probably already knows about it.

The face of the inscrutable young emperor appeared in her mind. Neither his consorts nor their families were something for Jusetsu to worry about. From the start, the Raven Consort had nothing to do with the outside.

“…”

Jusetsu narrowed her eyes at the melting darkness of the night outside the window.

A lush green mulberry grove could be seen on the other side of Hakkaku Palace.

“Is that it?” Jusetsu muttered. “Yes, niangniang,” Onkei answered from behind her. He was accompanying her to the cocoonery this morning.

“The mulberry grove has been around since the previous dynasty, and it was still maintained even when there was no cocoonery.”

“Why are silkworms raised in the inner palace?”

“It’s more the imperial palace rather than the inner palace. There is also a cocoonery in the outer court. They say that breed improvement and research are being conducted there. Originally, raw silk for the emperor and imperial family were produced there.”

“So, the cocoonery in the inner palace is for the consorts?”

“Yes. I heard it used to be quite large.”

Since Onkei said that, Jusetsu imagined a small hut. However, the cocoonery that appeared before her was quite a respectable building. It certainly didn’t have the magnificence of a consort’s palace, but it had three buildings roofed with blue-glazed roof tiles, and it was encircled with mud roof walls. From the front building, they could hear the sounds and voices of the palace ladies busy at work, and in the back building, they could see eunuchs coming and going with bundles of firewood.

“The mulberry storehouse is in the back, and the cocoonery is in the front.”

Onkei explained. He was sent here as a spy on Ei Sei’s orders, so he knew most of the things here, which was helpful. He was a beautiful eunuch with cool eyes and a single scar running across his cheek. He was a skillful guard, but he was also a very capable servant, with his attention to small details, a shadow-like unassumingness in all things, and his efficiency in carrying out tasks.

Jusetsu headed for the building in front. Before she could climb the steps, the doors opened and a palace lady hurried out. It was Shuuji.

“My deepest apologies for not noticing your arrival, Lady Raven Consort. I was watching the outside, but I thought you were a eunuch…”

“That’s fine. It would be unfavorable to me if I were recognized from a distance.”

In order to not be recognized by Hakkaku Palace, Jusetsu came here dressed as a eunuch. It really was convenient. Although Jiujiu, who wanted to dress her up, complained about it.

Jusetsu peered into the cocoonery and saw that the palace ladies seemed to be collecting cocoons. When they heard that the Raven Consort was here, they stopped what they were doing, got onto their knees and bowed.

“Continue your work. Other people will suspect something.”

The palace ladies obediently returned to work. There were rows of shelves and long tables, and on top of the tables, there were bellows-shaped objects woven from straw. When she saw the cocoons hanging from them, she thought that they must be the tools called cocoon holders that Shuuji talked about last night. The palace ladies removed the cocoons and placed them on trays.

“Right now, we’re collecting cocoons. After this, we will remove the fluff stuck to them and separate them into good ones and bad ones. The difference is whether or not they are suitable for turning into thread or not. Double cocoons consisting of two silkworms becoming one cocoon, thin cocoons, cocoons with holes, cocoons with rotting dead moths inside, cocoons soiled with urine and other bodily fluids, cocoons with marks left from the holders…they will all be removed,” Shuuji explained. “Furthermore, the good cocoons are divided into those that will be used to make thread, and those that will be made to emerge to lay eggs. The thread will be offered to the Crane Consort, and after that, she will present them to His Majesty.”

“Once the good cocoons are selected, not a single one of them will be lost, right?”

Yes, Shuuji lowered her eyes. In other words, there could be no deferment. Jusetsu put her hand to her hair and realized that she didn’t have her usual flowers there. Even though she dressed as a eunuch often, she kept forgetting about it.

She held her hand out forward and gathered heat in her palm. A light crimson haze flickered, tangled, and intertwined. The haze transformed into petals, one by one, and formed a peony flower. Jusetsu blew on it.

The flower turned into smoke and scattered. It floated around, swimming between the palace ladies.

The pale red smoke gradually gathered in one place and began to take the form of a person. It was the figure of a woman. A simple hairpin was tucked into her chignon, and her pale, slender face had well-shaped eyebrows that looked as if they were drawn with a brush and thin-lidded eyes. The long robes that enveloped her thin body weren’t in the current fashion, but her modest yet elegant appearance gave her the look of a court servant.

Shuuji let out a small cry and covered her mouth with her sleeve.

“T-That’s the ghost of the palace lady I saw!”

The other palace ladies had also stopped what they were doing and stared wide-eyed at the ghost.

The ghost suddenly moved amidst those stares. She soundlessly went towards the door. Jusetsu leaned back halfway and made way for the ghost. The ghost disappeared as though sucked into the door.

She went outside.

“L-Lady Raven Consort—”

“We’re going after her,” Jusetsu interrupted Shuuji and called out to Onkei. He quickly opened the door.

When they went outside, they saw the ghost from behind about to leave through the gate. Jusetsu followed her. There were no sounds of foodsteps or rustling of clothes, but the ghost’s gait was similar to that of the living. What was different was that the hem of her robes didn’t flutter and her sleeves didn’t sway. If such ghosts were to simply stand still among the palace ladies, even the people next to them wouldn’t realize that they were ghosts. Among the many courtiers in the inner palace, there might be ghosts mingled in with them, pretending to be the living.

The ghost left the cocoonery and headed further north. That was the outskirts of the inner palace. It was a neglected area with unkempt, overgrown trees, and there was no one in sight.

Jusetsu, who had been chasing the ghost, came to a slightly open space and stopped. There was something like a small burial mound covered in dense moss and grass there. The ghost had stopped in front of it. The sun shined down on the mound, and the moss glistened faintly. As they watched, the ghost seemed to melt into the mound and disappeared.

What is this mound?

It couldn’t belong to the ghost. It was difficult to imagine that a mere palace lady’s burial mound would be located inside the inner palace.

“Whose mound is this?”

She turned back to Onkei, but even he had a rare unknowing look on his face.

“I shall look into it.”

“Please do so.”

After that brief exchange, Jusetsu looked around. The area was surrounded by trees. There were old trees with ivy entwined around them, young trees lush with leaves, and trees that had already rotted and fallen. It was quiet. Judging by the trampled undergrowth, it seemed that it wasn’t completely unvisited by people. Did they come here to visit the mound? After checking the surroundings, Jusetsu returned to the cocoonery.

Shuuji was standing alone in front of the room from earlier, looking like she had nothing to do. Apparently, the other palace ladies moved to another room to remove the fuzz from the cocoons.

Jusetsu told her about the ghost disappearing into the mound, but Shuuji didn’t know anything about the mound either. In fact, this was the first time she heard about it.

“The outskirts of the inner palace are frightening, and as a woman, I can’t go there unless I have serious business…”

That did seem to be true.

“It would be easy to keep that ghost out of the cocoonery, but…” Jusetsu cut herself off there and pondered for a bit. That wasn’t enough. The cocoons must be found.

“I ask for your assistance,” Shuuji bowed to her. Jusetsu wasn’t a god, so being begged like this made her extremely uncomfortable.

“…Very well. I’ll create a barrier for now. Then I’ll see what I can find out about the mound.”

She took out a spindle wound with thread from her breast pocket. She went out to the outer corridor and asked Onkei to hold the end of the thread, then ran it along the floor, making a circle around the cocoonery. Finally, the barrier was created once she tied the ends together. It was a spell she used many times before. It wasn’t the Raven Consort’s spell, but a sorcerer’s spell.

She had learned it from Reijou, the previous Raven Consort, but in the previous dynasty, when sorcerers were able to frequent the inner palace, this kind of work was probably their job. They must have been valued.

No, it probably went beyond that.

She recalled the words of Ui, the keeper of the treasure room.

It was for protection against Wulian Niangniang, just in case

He told me that he couldn’t feel safe without the power to fight back…

There was probably a good reason why sorcerers were so highly regarded during the previous dynasty.

“Avoid stepping on the thread as much as possible. Though, as long as it doesn’t break when you step on it, it doesn’t matter.”

After giving Shuuji those warnings, Jusetsu left the room. The palace ladies were waiting outside, and they all knelt upon seeing her. Jusetsu was perplexed.

“Thank you very much, Lady Raven Consort.”

“I didn’t do much. Don’t make it to be more than it is. You were the ones who said that it would be all of you in trouble if outsiders learn about it.”

Even so, the palace ladies didn’t rise until Jusetsu passed through the gate. It seemed that the palace ladies of Hakkaku Palace held the Raven Consort in particular reverence, especially after the incident in which she saved Banka. Despite the fact that she really hadn’t done much.

 “And there’s also the cocoons…”

After leaving the cocoonery, Jusetsu stopped once and looked back. The gentle green of the mulberry trees shone in the morning sun. Here and there, there were sections where branches had been cut, probably for feeding the silkworms.

I’m good at looking for lost items, but…

It was different when it came to cocoons. Because they had no owner. Tracing lost items from their owners wasn’t difficult. However, cocoons were…

“Onkei,” Jusetsu called out to him while still looking at the mulberry grove. “In addition to the mound, there is something I want you to investigate.”

Yes, came his short reply.

Previous || Index || Next

[casspurrjoybell-31]

The Consort's Will - Chapter 4 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Finn

I clutch the duffle bag to my chest as Brayden races through the endless, frigid terrain.

Cold wind slaps against my face, its fingernails of ice scraping against the soft flesh of my cheeks.

Everything burns.

I try to cover myself more with my jacket but it just as quickly falls again.

My eyes water when I try to spot Leo behind us.

He's keeping up, barely, with his electronic motorcycle.

He must have done work on it before he started using it in the war, though.

What was once a soft purr has now dissipated to silence.

No wonder Brayden never heard him approaching.

I close my eyes and lean into Brayden's chest.

This is the fastest we've ever traveled.

Granted, he has a slightly smaller load since Leo offered to take the tent on the back of his bike but to me it feels like we're moving way too fast.

Hours pass.

The cool shadows of the evening give way to morning... and eventually the soft hues of morning change into the deep, rich tones of the evening.

My stomach grumbles.

I swallow down a dry mouthful of saliva and gently tug on Brayden's arm.

He immediately comes to a stop and glances down at me with bright, red eyes.

"Mind if we stop for food?" I ask.

Brayden nods and gently sets me on my feet.

My arms feel stiff from holding onto the bag so tightly and they ache with protest as I retract them away from my body.

Because the two of us travel as much as we do, we came up with our own system.

Instead of Brayden wasting time stopping every hour to see if I need any breaks, I told him any time I needed to stop I'd just tell him.

It's worked out well so far but today I went well past my hunger marker.

But I did it for Brayden.

After hearing that Mark's group was following behind us yesterday, I knew that Brayden would want to create as much space as possible between us and them.

So I let him.

I groan slightly as I take the first few steps.

To my surprise, the stinging cold I expect to feel is gone.

Completely.

In its place, a gentle breeze softly moves along the contours of my face, urging me out of my thick winter coat.

"It's warm," I say, turning to Brayden with a grin.

"How far did we get?"

Leo's silent motorcycle sidles up beside the two of us.

He pushes the kickstand into place and yanks his riding goggles away from his face.

A red line has formed around the edges of his eyes and he grimaces with pain as he hoists himself off the bike and into a standing position.

A few strands of his blonde hair fall in his eyes and he pushes them away while slowly walking towards us.

"We done for the day?" he calls out to Brayden.

Brayden walks alongside me.

He retrieves the map from his breast pocket and tosses it to Leo.

"We're in Criston," Brayden states coldly, ignoring Leo's question.

"Locate the nearest place where we might find food."

Leo catches the map and cocks a brow in surprise.

Brayden's tone is commanding and even.

There's no room for argument.

I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, hoping that Leo doesn't try to argue.

My history professor narrows his eyes.

His gaze shifts over to me and I know there's a pleading look in my eyes.

If he says anything to push Brayden, it will be reason enough for a fight to ensue.

I know Brayden doesn't trust Leo yet.

I'm not sure I do, either.

But fighting isn't the answer... especially when Brayden and I need all the help we can get.

Leo works his jaw tighter as he slowly unfolds the map.

He holds it up to the light, tilting his head to study the various notes he left for himself the night before.

"If we just travel about twenty more minutes east, we'll hit..."

"Drop it and put your hands in the air. Now," an unfamiliar voice comes from behind us.

Brayden twirls around before the either of us get the chance.

A woman standing a good fifty yards away has a gun cocked and ready to shoot.

Directly at me.

My heart slams against my chest.

Obediently I raise my hand and everything else around me becomes lost.

She's going to shoot me.

Blood pounds against my ears and I swallow down tears of trepidation as they burn my throat.

How did she approach us without Brayden hearing?

How did she approach us without Brayden smelling her scent?

But as the woman grins slowly, I notice the tips of fangs pushing past her lips.

Her brown eyes show no remorse as she takes a step towards us.

She's not a fully a vampire but she's not a human either.

She's a Secondary.

[baoshan-sanren]

Chapter 43

Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Part 1 | Chapter 8 Part 2 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 Part 1 | Chapter 15 Part 2 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 Part 1 | Chapter 22 Part 2 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33 | Chapter 34 | Chapter 35 | Chapter 36 | Chapter 37 | Chapter 38 | Chapter 39 | Chapter 40 | Chapter 41 | Chapter 42 

The Gifting Ceremony used to be the highlight of Wei Ying’s birthday celebration. Not so much for the gifts themselves, but for the fact that it signaled the end of the formalities, and the quickly approaching departure of all the sects.

Instead of feeling relieved, Wei Ying is tense and irritable, the upcoming banquet looming larger by the moment.

After seven long days of constantly being accosted by each and every sect leader, even those Wei Ying can ordinarily tolerate with equanimity are beginning to test his patience. 

Jin GuangShan looks far too unhappy for someone whose son had been released from the dungeon that very morning, when the brat should have rightfully remained locked up until his first gray hair appeared. Nie MingJue has been grim and distracted all day, hardly a fit company for anyone. The HeJian Fan Sect Leader is not yet well enough to participate in any ceremonies, not if he means to save his strength for the next day’s travel, and the MeiShan Yu Sect Leader has been been firmly planted by Madam Yu’s side for nearly an hour. Since they both cannot seem to help glancing at Wei Ying every few moments, he is sure that whatever they are discussing will not bode well for him in the end.  

In addition, the Council, showing themselves to be no better than a brood of gossiping hens, had not held to their promise to keep Wei Ying’s betrothal plans a secret. No one has dared speak of these things in his presence, but it is obvious that majority of the sect leaders are now aware that the Emperor had chosen his future Emperor Consort. Wei Ying supposes it was illogical to think that someone like Sect Leader OuYang could actually keep a secret. Still, he hates that Lan Zhan is now a subject of gossip and wild speculation, before he has even had a chance to accept the proposal. Worse, he is beginning to feel as if every bit of slander, every string of nonsense whispered in the corners of the palace, must be magnified by the time it reaches Lan Zhan’s awareness.    

Lan Zhan had said that he will not change his mind. He had said that he wants to marry Wei Ying. But how much drivel can one person be subjected to before deciding that the benefit is not worth the cost? How many underhanded comments from the Qin Sect Leader about his daughter’s sweet nature and refined manners will turn out to be too many? How many thinly veiled jabs about the importance of succession from the Chang Sect Leader? How many hushed whispers of the imminent anniversary of the Empress’ death, each one carrying a stark reminder of the man who had killed her?

Wei Ying thinks he has become accustomed to some of Lan Zhan’s minuscule expressions, at least well enough to know if the man is angry or distressed. But Lan Zhan is at the very end of the hall, still and silent, his uncle and brother by his side. Lan XiChen looks as tired as Wei Ying feels, and Lan QiRen looks as coldly disapproving as he always does. It is Lan Zhan whose thoughts are impossible to read from this distance, his face calm and composed, his eyes expressionless. If he is hearing the gossip, if he finds it ridiculous, or maddening, or unbearable, Wei Ying can read nothing of the sort from his countenance.  

He understands why Lan Zhan had declined his invitation to be seated by the throne during the Gifting Ceremony. The rumors are vicious enough without such an obvious display of favor. But it is unbearable, the distance between them, as if he cannot still feel Lan Zhan’s thumb pressing into his cheek, the scrape of Lan Zhan’s teeth against his bottom lip. As if they are suddenly little more than strangers.

The banquet being only hours away is even more unbearable. Lan Zhan will meet with Song Lan and uncle XingChen after the Gifting Ceremony, but Wei Ying must deal with other matters, and may not have a chance to speak to him again before the celebration starts. Before Lan Zhan willingly places himself in harm’s way.  Before Wei Ying has a chance to remind him to not take any unnecessary risks.  

HuaiSang’s fan lightly taps his knee in reprimand, and Wei Ying resists the urge to snap at him.

He may be distracted, but he is still perfectly aware of his surroundings.

The chest in front of the throne, filled to the brim with delicate spheres of imperial jade, is a gift from the LanLing Jin. Jin GuangShan has spared no expense. The man looks as if he had aged significantly in the last few days, a curse, Wei Ying supposes, of having to deal with brainless offspring. Of course, the blame for this rests entirely on Jin GuangShan, as he has had more brainless offspring, both hidden and acknowledged, than any man Wei Ying has ever met. Still, he feels a thin thread of pity for the man.

Wei Ying would wager that the seven day celebration had not come close to meeting Jin GuangShan’s expectations.

He taps his fingers against the arm of the throne, deliberating.

No matter what Wei Ying does, the next few assassination attempts are certain to be funded from the Jin Sect coffers. It does not seem to matter, whether he treats Jin GuangShan with politeness or cold indifference; the man simply believes that a world without an Emperor would be a world in which he, himself, would have a greater chance of seizing wealth and power. Still, Wei Ying would very much like to have a decreased flow of assassins while he attempts to make arrangements for his wedding.  

It is tempting to go back on his word sooner than he had planned, and permit the reinstatement of the engagement. Everyone present is very well aware that the Emperor has a soft spot for his shijie. They will easily believe that she has managed to influence him, even in such a short period of time. But he cannot reward Jin ZiXuan’s ridiculous behavior in this way, not while the other sect leaders are present.

“Sect Leader Jin,” he says instead, regretting the words even as they are leaving his mouth, “Madam Yu has expressed regret that her time with a dear friend has been cut short. You will remain at the Immortal Mountain an additional ten days, so that she may properly renew her acquaintance with Madam Jin.”

Wei Ying does not dare look over at Madam Yu. She absolutely abhors being used in such a way, but since her daughter is to become the next High Councilor, Wei Ying believes she owes him a significant favor. Jin GuangShan looks properly grateful, and perhaps a little apprehensive as well, which is a satisfying combination.

The gift from the Yu Sect is presented next, then the gift from the Nie Sect, then the Fan and Chen Sects. Wei Ying cannot begin to guess what sort of a gift the Lan Sect will present this year, but he has always felt that their gifts were selected to carry a vague message of admonishment, much like Lan QiRen’s perpetually cold expression.

One year, the Emperor had received a copy of the three thousand Lan Sect rules. They were exquisitely bound and written in a beautiful hand, but no amount of tight binding or lovely calligraphy can make three thousand rules anything but tedious. He had read them, mostly out of curiosity, but the exercise had been as monotonous as listening to Jin GuangShan’s compliments.  

Still, he has never quite anticipated the Lan Sect gifts with this much curiosity or impatience. Their gift is traditionally presented last, but Wei Ying thinks that this will be the last year the Lan Sect is forced to the bottom of the court hierarchy. By his next birthday, he should be married to Lan Zhan, and the Lan Sect will be expected to take their rightful place above all the others.

The gift from the Wen Sect is next, and Wei Ying perks up slightly at the sight of a black chest being carried forward. Wen RuoHan might be a terrible human being on his best day, and a conniving, ruthless tyrant on his worst, but the man has an eye for striking oddities. The gifts that had come from the Wen Sect over the years have been more bizarre than explicitly valuable, never failing to entertain the entire court. One such gift, an enormous, thin slate of cloudy water jade, had found its permanent residence in Wei Ying’s chambers. Depending on the angle of the sun rays reflected off its surface, the slate would depict shadows of birds in flight, folding ocean waves, and on one memorable occasion, two small rabbits chasing each other across the white expanse.

Wei Ying is on his feet before the chest is even opened for his inspection, fully expecting to be enthralled with its contents. Still, despite being surprised each year, the gift takes him off guard.

It is a sword.

Heavy and long, its pommel vaguely constructed in the shape of a leaping tiger, it holds a greater resemblance to the sabers more often used by the Nie Sect, than the cultivator swords Wei Ying is accustomed to handling. Its surface is inky black from its tip to the hilt, a black so deep that it seems to feed on the light around it, creating shadows where none should exist. It is both beautiful and ghastly at once, and Wei Ying cannot seem to look away.

Never before has the Wen Sect sent him a weapon, and his mind is already full of possible implications. He believes that he has reached a favorable agreement with Wen RuoHan, and that the man would find no benefit in going back on his word. The gift was sent before the agreement had been made. Therefore, it could signify the beginning of the rebellion that Wei Ying has managed to avoid, or it could signify Wen RuoHan’s intention to remain a sword in the hand of the Emperor, as long as it suits his purpose.

It is odd, but he cannot escape the impression that the sword should be hot to the touch. Steel is always cold, except in the midst of a battle, but the black inky surface seems to radiate warmth, and he is reaching for the handle before realizing that he means to do so, his fingers wrapping around the ridges of the hilt.

It is cold.

So cold that it burns, his hand submerged in flames. It spreads, the ice traveling through his wrist and elbow, nestling easily in the bones of his shoulder. It is a ruthless, frigid wave, but the way it envelops his chest is deceivingly gentle, the breath in his lugs growing sluggish and slow. A faint sense of disbelief and panic has not yet fully formed when he tries to release the hilt, but he is no longer in command of his arm, the limb paralyzed and unfeeling.

A series of disconnected thoughts dart across his consciousness. 

An awareness that this may be death, a type of death no one could have predicted. 

Lan Zhan at the end of the hall. 

Nie HuaiSang behind him, still sprawled leisurely next to the throne, hopefully too far to be affected. 

A-Yuan. 

He tries to speak, to issue a warning, but his throat is ice, both unyielding and fragile. He thinks, if he could open his mouth, the winter would emerge from his breath, freezing the world to its core.

Just before the world goes black, he hears a familiar voice, faded and distant, already a long gone memory.

“Wei Ying.”

[one-boring-person]

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned (Part Eight)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: mentions of death

Context: (y/n) has to stay entertained at the cave, and so goes about setting up defences.

A/N: I think this chapter is a bit dull, but I promise it gets better soon!

Masterlist

Unsurprisingly, no light filters into my room when I wake again the next morning, my eyes having to swiftly adjust to the shadowy sight before them as I sit up, rubbing at my scalp. A pounding headache has set in, thanks to the lack of sleep and the sheer amount of over thinking I did last night, my skull feeling as if it's about to explode as I swing my legs out from under the covers, knowing that I have even more planning and preparing to do if I want to survive long enough to see the end of the year. Stretching out the dull ache in my muscles, I check the watch on my wrist briefly to get an idea of the time: 4:23. Whether that is AM or PM, I have no idea yet, but I aim to find out, quickly grabbing my rucksack and jacket as I stand and leave the room, heading out into the main hall where the boys usually spend their nights.

Bright light streams in from the outside, indicating that it is 4:23 PM, illuminating the decrepit lobby in a new clarity I've not seen it in before, every piece of scattered rubbish given a new appearance. In the daylight, the whole place looks less sinister, and more like an abandoned antiques shop, the dusty bits and pieces casting odd shaped shadows onto the floor as the sunlight hits them from a certain angle, every dull colour suddenly highlighted more than usual. I have to blink a few times to allow my eyes to adjust, but they quickly do so, my gaze swiftly flicking around the looming room so that I can take it all in, a plan springing to my mind as I observe it all.

Silently, I get to work, dropping my bag on the fountain ledge and rummaging around in it, pulling everything out to lay it out in front of me so that I can properly see what I have. It's not much, but it's enough to satisfy what needs doing. Picking up the lightweight chains we are required to own, I grab some dirty old cans lying a little way away, the litter most likely the remains of a meal from sometime before, their rusted forms almost perfect for what I need them for.

Eyeing the brightly lit entrance, I take up a ball of string, too, and go over to it, stepping out onto the rickety walkway, examining the rugged wood with a critical eye as I walk out a little way, putting some weight in my step. Under each step, the wood moves slightly, the material having a light spring to it thanks to its age and exposure to the elements, which makes me frown slightly, hoping my plan will still work even though this is the case. Kneeling down, I measure out a length of string that runs the width of the walkway and use my knife to cut it to size. Setting it aside, I get to work on the chains, making six separate lengths with cans attached to them, each one of them rattling loudly as I shake them out experimentally. Smiling to myself, I connect one chain to the end of the piece if string, doubling it over itself for a better result, quickly doing the same on the other end of the string, weighting it down perfectly. I find a pair of small rocks lodged into the cliffside beside me and place them at opposing ends of the walkway, but not before I've scraped a small groove into their surfaces, where the string rests once I've set it up, hanging the chains over the sides of the walkway. The string sits an inch or so above the surface of the walkway, meaning it is easily tripped over, setting off the rudimentary alarm.

I repeat this twice more, leaving them at alternating distances from each other to provide a crude trap to alert anyone inside the cave of approaching intruders: when someone trips the string, the cans and chains will rattle loudly, signifying their approach. Absentmindedly, I hear a small voice in my head telling me that any SRS soldiers will be expecting this, and won't fall for such an amateur trap, quickly deciding that I need to work on something inside the cave, too, something more hidden.

Going back inside, I wipe some sweat from my upper lip, surprised at the heat of the day despite it being mid-October, my clothes sticking to me as I go back to my rucksack, trying to figure something else out. My eyes are quickly drawn to the grenades I have left. They won't work very well on humans, but the loud noise and subsequent explosion of mist will throw anyone off if caught up in it, meaning they are somewhat effective for this purpose.

Grabbing them, I take the string again and go to the entrance, making sure to set up two of the conveniently placed barrels of charcoal the boys use as braziers, setting them up a little way apart around the front of the cave. Going a little way ahead of them again, I place a seemingly random cardboard box face down on the floor, checking the layout once more, before measuring pieces of string again. Cutting them all to size, I tie one end of each of the length to the ring of a grenade, which I carefully loosen, hiding the two explosives under the cardboard box as I loop the string around the two barrels, pulling it tightly enough that it creates another tripwire across the entrance.

Sitting back, I look at my handiwork, noting that the string isn't too obvious and that the overall look isn't too bad. Cautiously, I pull the string taut again, knowing how tense it needs to be for this trap to actually work. Aware that this is now a near-fatal hazard for the four original residents of the cave, I make a mental note to warn them of the new trap before one of them accidentally trips it and gets a face-full of burning holy water.

Sighing, I go back to my rucksack and pick up the gun, checking the clip for rounds, annoyed to find it only about half-full, most of them having been used over the last few days, meaning it needs reloading. I check over the rest if my stuff, growling when I realise that I haven't got anymore bullets with me, leaving me with a pretty much useless weapon which will need reloading very quickly. Setting it down again, I quickly make a decision, going back out into the daylight and up to the cliff top, where I grab some of the random pieces of driftwood lying around, returning to the cave with an armfull of them. Tiredly, I drop them to the floor and sit down, pull in out my knife so I can start whittling them down - a skill every Hunter is taught is how to make wooden bullets, seeing as they are effective against both supernatural and natural creatures.

A small pile of bullets has steadily grown by the time the boys finally emerge from their sleep, the last rays of sunlight having dissipated an hour or so ago, my fingers sore from scratching the knife over the dry wood for so long, though it has paid off: I have enough to fill four or five clips, now. As they enter the room, I look up at them with a tired smile, glad to have some company now.

"Hey guys. Sleep well?" I greet them, waving slightly with the knife, my tone light despite the tension in my body.

"Mostly, yeah." Marko responds, coming over to me with the others, their brows furrowed as they see what I'm doing.

"What're you up to?" Dwayne questions, eyeing the bullets apprehensively.

"Making some more rounds for my gun. I didn't bring enough ammo, so I'm making my own." I explain, gesturing to the pile dismissively.

"Out of wood?" Paul interjects, looking genuinely curious.

"Yep. It's the only available material."

"That's...kinda cool, but also pretty worrying." The blonde vampire muses, dropping down beside me as he goes to pick one up.

"I'm not planning to use them in you guys, don't worry." I reassure them, rolling my eyes.

"Why do you need so many?" David asks, blue eyes appearing much darker in this light.

I shrug casually, finishing up the one I'm currently working on.

"In case the SRS comes knocking. Speaking of which, I've set up some traps by the entrance, so just be careful of them." I make eye contact with David, "One of them will be very painful if it's tripped."

He frowns a little, but nods in any case.

"Duly noted." The vampire licks his lips carefully, "I'm hungry, so I'm gonna head out and get something to eat. You boys coming?"

Marko and Paul eagerly agree, though Dwayne politely declines.

"I think it's a good idea if someone stays here with (Y/n), and I'm not that hungry so I'm happy to do that." The dark haired vampire explains, watching me for a reaction as I give him a confused look, surprised at the offer.

"You don't need to, Dwayne. I'm grateful for the offer, but I don't want to ruin your night..." I start, only to be cut off by him sitting down beside me.

"Don't worry about it, I'd rather stay here. Plus, maybe you can show me how to do that. It'd get the job done quicker with two people doing it."

"I guess. Thank you." I murmur, still surprised, trying to ignore the blush rising to my cheeks.

"No problem."

"Right, well, we'll be back in a few hours. Want us to bring you something back, Dwayne?" David cuts in, eyeing the two of us carefully.

"No, it's alright. I'll go out when you guys get back."

"Ok. See you two later." Without another word, the three vampires leave the room, the surrounding quickly lapsing into silence as Dwayne and I sit there.

"So, how do you carve these?" He finally asks, pulling a knife from the pocket of his jacket, his thumb running swiftly over the blade to test it's sharpness.

"Oh, it's pretty easy. Just copy me..." I run through the basic premise of what needs doing, the vampire easily picking it up, the two of us starting to produce a good amount of them between us.

Part Nine

[power-rings]

Light Consorting with Shadows

Chapter 5: Rescue

By daybreak, Aurora woke up alone in her current living quarters. Quickly, the princess jumped off of her not-so-comfortable bed. Despite the dizziness that she felt, she managed to leave her room to find Lancelot; hoping he didn't abandon her to find her parents without her. It wasn't long before she found him among a crowd of strange men dressed in heavy armor just like him. His ear twitched, hearing her approaching them. Lancelot stepped aside, meeting her halfway down the corridor of the palace. "Princess." His gaze searching her.

"Did you really think I was gonna stay behind, Lancelot?" She saw the Knight shift his weight uncomfortably.

"Yes." He answered very cautiously. "The only thing we can do is hopefully pick up their trail. They have some dogs that-"

"I'm coming with." The princess stood her ground, their gazes locked. Aurora wasn't gonna be cooped up in some stranger's land. She started to walk pass the Knight, not waiting for his reaction. She heard him sigh, and follow her.

"My job is to protect you, and your family. You're already hurt from the other night, I advise that you stay behind." His voice was stern, but she could hear the concern in his tone.

Aurora turned to face him, "Lancelot! Please...! My parents could have been killed," she choked on those words. "Dad didn't raise me to be a coward. And you trained me to handle my own in a battle." Their conversation caused the other men to glance over at the commotion that echoed in the corridor. "Grab me some armor, will ya'?" Lancelot studied her in silence, however, to the princess' surprise he left her behind to retrieve some armor in another room. With his help, she was able to get it fitted properly.

One of the taller men, who appeared to be a black-tailed deer with short antlers poking through his helmet was the first to approach the pair. He glanced at Lancelot in question, "are you insane?" He pulled his helmet off. "I'm not sure how your King runs things. But, royalty never accompany us." He scoffed. "Perhaps, your lack of protection and carelessness was what got your King and Queen kidnapped in the first place." The deer character looked at the other men, and nodded. "With all due respect-"

"Excuse me?!" Aurora bristled, seconds later she was inches away from the deer. "He would die for my family and I!" She jabbed a finger in his chest plate. "We don't have to accompany you, either! My Knight here and I can go by ourselves!" Aurora felt Lancelot's hand going to her shoulder, trying to draw her away from him. The leader stepped back, and composed himself. Aurora was still royalty and he had to respect that. He gave her a humble bow, then pulled his helmet back over his head.

He cleared his throat, "We will have several men near the camp location you had mentioned in case we run into trouble. Their scents should still be fresh, I hope. I will send only 4 of us and a couple of dogs to search."

"Erhan, once we find a trail..."

The deer gave a sharp nod, "I will give you a signal. Lancelot and I can take the lead. Princess, for your protection you will take up the rear. I will have some of my men watching your back. We don't know what to do expect." Everyone gathered around the gate, some mounted on horses, while others kept the dogs at bay until they were ready to depart. "It could be a gang of thieves. Lancelot, do you recall their appearances?" The knight shook his head.

"They were masked up. I just know there were over 10 members.." Lancelot addressed, trying his best to reflect back to that night. He didn't remember much other than fighting hard, only to be knocked out quickly.

Erhan nodded, but said nothing more. He gestured that they follow and the group went down a steep set of stairs and made a haste into the forest. Two men came alongside the princess, while Erhan and Lancelot took the lead while the men with the huge dogs followed closely.

It was a good travel to find their previous campsite. There were remains of some random items left behind, empty tents, cookware, some clothing, canteens of water, a good supply of food. When Erhan searched the wagon, it appeared that someone had rummaged through whatever belongings that was behind inside. Two men gave the dogs something that belonged to the King and Queen and then they paired off to the left, sniffing around the campsite. Aurora was behind everyone, surveying her surroundings for any sort of clue. Lancelot held tightly to his weapon, and walked around the camp, searching high and low. There was a bark from one of the bulkier dogs, he started going further out of the campsite. Everyone followed the lead of the two animals. They were able to pick up some visible footprints, and hoofprints leading in the opposite direction.

---

Miles away, King Sonic was trying to pry the cell open at the keyhole. Amy was in a separate cell beside him. “Almost got it…” he said in a hushed tone. Trying his best not to make too much noise, and draw the guards towards them. During the night, Sonic was able to distract one of the guards and retrieve the key. Once their attention was on something else, Sonic started working at the keyhole. Unfortunately, their escape wasn’t going to be that easy. One of the men that ambushed their camp, and took them away… he came stomping down the hall towards their cells. Sonic quickly moved in the back of his dark cell, hiding the key behind him.

The masked individual shout echoed throughout the facility. “Where is it?!” He opened the cell with his own set of key. More men surrounded the leader, making sure the King wasn’t gonna get any ideas about escaping. “I know you have it!” He searched through Sonic’s cell. Whatever belongings he thought the King had wasn’t in there.

Sonic prepared himself to be attacked. He was ready. Quill’s bristling in defense. “What exactly are you looking for? You took what money had.” Sonic didn’t care about money, all he was concerned about was getting out with Amy and reuniting with their daughter.

“The emerald!” Towering over Sonic, the coyote inched closer. Sonic eyed him as the enemy reached for his dagger. “We will search your palace if we have to.” He withdrew it from his sheath, and held it to Sonic’s neck. “Tell me where it is and you will live,” Sonic’s scowled at the scent of the coyote. He smelled of alcohol, and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in ages.

Sonic narrowed his eyes, “you have no right to own a Chaos Emerald.” The coyote was not pleased with the king’s answered and pressed his blade further, drawing a little blood. Sonic winced, and quickly sidestepped. His attempt at escaping was short lived as one of the foxes tackled the king and pinned him against the wall of the cell.

“You made a mistake, majesty. Tell me where it is.” He walked over and yanked Sonic by the ear. “I’m giving you one more chance.” The King highly doubted that. Sonic opened his mouth to respond, but quickly closed it when he heard another group rushing towards them.

“Sir!!” A younger coyote ran up to catch up to the leader. “We have company. One of our men came across a group…they're probably here for the royal couple." He announced, panting out the warning.

“… Shit.” When the fox released the grip on Sonic, the blue hedgehog quickly got to his feet, making a dash for the exit and to Amy’s cell. He was attacked again from all around him. “They’re probably here for the King and Queen. Bring them outside. This isn’t over, sire.” Unfortunately, Sonic was outnumbered, one gabbed his knife and stabbed him in the side, they managed to cuff him, and roughly lead them outside.

Lancelot caught a glimpse of a group forming at the the top of the hill. He gestured to the others behind him to stop. Not sure what was gonna happen next. He withdrew his weapon, as well as the rest of the men, and Aurora was in the back of the group, and withdrew her own weapon. They slowly inched closer.

“I would stop right there if you want your King and Queen to live.” A voice roared, causing the group to freeze in their advances toward the hill. The leader of the group presented Sonic and Amy before Lancelot and the rest of the group. The knight bristled in rage under his armor. Aurora stepped toward the front with Lancelot and Erhan. Lancelot stepped infront of her, and shook his head. He could see the anger and the fear in her eyes. Acting on her emotion could be deadly… not only for her, but her parents as well.

“Drop your weapons.” The same coyote commanded.

“Not until they are safe.” Lancelot snarled.

“Tch, I can’t promise that until we get what we want.” With a warning, he drew a dagger to the Queen instead. Sonic bristled in rage. He struggled in the grasp of the his capture. Despite the tight grip, Sonic managed to wiggle free to help his Queen. He headbutted the fox that threatened her, but, Sonic was roughly forced away and forced on the ground, with a bulkier individual holding him at bay.

Aurora was ready. Whatever Lancelot taught her during their training, it was gonna come in use if they hurt her parents. Lancelot grabbed her by the arm. “What do you want?! We’ll give you whatever you want. Let ‘em go!” She blurted out, her eyes locking with the leader.

Their leader started making his way down the steep hill. “Ah. You must be the princess.” Lancelot quickly got in between them. They stared each other down. He held his hands up, showing that he didn’t have any weapons on him this time. Lancelot still held his stance, protecting the princess while the others surrounded the coyote. Their weapons ready. He stood tall, and looked over the knight’s shoulder. “You’ll give me whatever I want, hm? Perhaps instead of a Chaos Emerald. You could accompany me.” His grin was devious while his hazel eyes searched her.

Lancelot shoved him. “Back off!” The coyote glared at him, but distanced himself slowly from the knight.

“A Chaos Emerald really? That’s why you attacked us and took off with my family?”

“Oh, honey. You must not know the power that it holds.”

Aurora glanced towards her parents. She knew exactly how powerful a Chaos Emerald was, but one alone had limited powers compared to having 7 in ones possession. She hadn’t seen it used much growing up, her father only told her what it was capable of. “If I give it to you…” From the corner of her eye, she saw Lancelot look at her, skeptical. “You’ll return them safely?”

He bowed, promising the young princess. He gestured towards his group and told them to hide their weapons. But, they were still on edge.

“Princess. I know you want your parents safe. But, I don’t think…” Erhan whispered from behind them.

“They’re not gonna wait too long. I’ll go retrieve it.” Lancelot muttered. The knight had an idea, but they had to act quickly. He pulled Aurora away, and told her to accompany him on his journey back to Camelot. He was honestly concerned what would happen to her if he left. Sure, he was concerned about the royal couple, the knight had faith in Sonic; he was very skillful about getting out of such situations. The priority was that Aurora would be safe if the situation went downhill for them.

--

As expected, it was a long journey back to Camelot. If they didn’t make haste, it would take them about two days to arrive on foot. By daybreak the following morning, they reached the gates of Camelot. Around them, citizens were whispering, they sounded concern because the knight returned only with the princess. Lancelot walked down the corridor of the palace, ignoring the glances, he took a flight of stairs leading to his living quarters. “It should be in here…” He removed his helmet, feeling like he couldn’t breathe. He searched through his room. Aurora stopped at the doorway, watching him roam through his room. Was the Chaos Emerald seriously hiding in his room? She had thought dad told her it was hidden under the palace. Not a simple living quarters like this. She thought Lancelot used them more than her dad, but she wasn’t sure. She saw him pull out a red Chaos Emerald from underneath his bed. That was securely locked in a small box.

Aurora noticed that it wasn’t as shiny as she thought it would normally be. Lancelot must have realized that she was confused by its appearance. “Its a fake Chaos Emerald.” He retorted. Lancelot wiped the sweat off his brow. “This may not work, Aurora.” The knight admitted, “I don’t think your father would want to risk giving them the real one, though.”

“Could one alone really be that dangerous?”

“Yes. If they’re witty enough they could use it to find the 6 others.” Lancelot walked towards the princess. Aurora bit her bottom lip. Praying that this will work and her parents will be returned safely. “Hold on to me.” Lancelot pulled her closer. Heat rushed towards her cheeks when they touched.

“W-what?”

“Chaos Control.” He whispered under his breath, and closed his eyes. Thinking about the destination, within seconds there was a bright light and they were gone.

Just as quick as they disappeared they reappeared near the two groups. Aurora stumbled on her feet after they appeared. That was a feeling she had never experienced before. Perhaps with a real Chaos Emerald, it would have a different effect on her; not that she ever experienced the true power of a Chaos Emerald, anyway.

Lancelot walked ahead of the others, finding the other group’s leader. He put on an act as if he was reluctant to let go of the emerald in his grasp. “Return the King and Queen first. Then, you can have it.” He gestured. One hand reaching for his sword. The coyote groaned, but he released their cuffs and let them reunite with their side. Aurora ran to embrace her parents, tears rolling down her cheeks now they were that they reunited. The coyote jerked the Chaos Emerald out of the Knight’s hand and admired it. The rest of the group joined him, they talked amongst themselves about their plans with it. Some wanted to sell it so they could have thousands or even millions in their possession, while their leader plotted about finding the others and all that he could accomplish if he had them. They didn’t linger around, in a rush they returned to their base while Lancelot, Erhan and his group made their way back. Sonic got his wound patched up, while Queen Amy was checked for wounds. The peace treaty was signed between the two leaders.

Once they arrived to Camelot the following night, Sonic caught up with Lancelot shortly after. The blue blur never doubted his head knight, but he was slightly concerned about his decision between those thieves. “We’re gonna have to keep a good look out for these guys. Lancelot, why did you…?”

“Sire, it was a fake.” Sonic blinked. He didn’t realize the knight just kept fake Chaos Emeralds around. “Perhaps, you are right though. They may be a threat again once they realize…” Sonic patted his shoulder, feeling at ease knowing that the real Chaos Emerald was still safe at the palace.

“We’ll be ready. They’re just a bunch of thieves. We can take them.” Sonic gave a stretch. “Until then…I’m hitting the hay.” The king flashed him a smile, Lancelot nodded in respect before going in the separate direction.

-

At midnight, Aurora took a stroll around Camelot and found Lancelot sitting at one of the benches near the lake. The knight didn’t notice her presence until Aurora sat next to him. “Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?” She elbowed.

“Same goes for you, Rory.”

She rolled her eyes at hearing her nickname, “I slept like a baby, earlier. I’m energized now.” Aurora admired the reflection of the moon on the surface of the water. “I never felt glad to be back here.”

“Perhaps you’ll sneak out less.”

“Chaos… no." Aurora laughed, then gave a deep sigh, now sitting in silence. "Thanks for letting me go with you guys, today." The black hedgehog nodded. "I hate to admit it, but today was frightening." Aurora reflected, their eyes meeting.

"You handled it well, though. I was impressed."

"Ah! The greatest Knight of my father's Kingdom is impressed with lil' o' me?!" Aurora saw the corners of Lancelot's mouth turn into a grin.

"Hm, don't get too cocky, now. You could use more training." The knight stood up to stretch his back, feeling stiff. "Only one or two sessions of sword training wouldn’t suffice. You will also need to learn combat training, in case you don’t have a weapon. That… I would speak to your father about.” He added.

"That's a great idea! Perhaps you and I can train some tomorrow?" Aurora nodded, maybe the King would be willing to teach hand to hand combat as well, at least she could hope.

Lancelot shrugged, "we shall see. After yesterday, we're gonna be on high alert. Once they find out that it's a fake Chaos Emerald, they'll be pissed." Aurora knew he was right, but the princess didn't want to deal with these guys again. But, Camelot was more than prepared now. "We'll set a date and time for another training, though." Though he never admitted it to the princess, he really enjoyed training her. Sure, it was probably breaking some sort of rule; but King Sonic never said anything against it... yet.

Aurora smile grew wider, "sounds great to me!" She pecked him on the cheek, "goodnight." Thankfully, she was gone before seeing his reddening face. Lancelot surveyed outside of the walls of Camelot before getting back to bed, trying to get some rest before he had to patrol the territory by daybreak. All he could think about was the princess, and how that kiss on the cheek made him feel weird.

---

Days later...

Aurora was disturbed by her lady-in-waiting opening her curtains, allowing the bright afternoon sun to seep into the room, the princess groaned in complaint. "Princess, are you feeling alright?" The young rabbit laid out some clothing for the princess. Aurora confirmed that she just overslept, she was helped with her layers of clothes. She found her parents in the dining hall, neither of them lectured her for waking up so late in the afternoon. Just small talk among the royal family. It was a nice change. Aurora had a feeling that this wouldn't last long very long. Being royalty, and the responsibilities that came with it would always ruin these moments, not that Aurora was complaining.

By 2 that afternoon, Aurora exited the palace in search of a familiar knight. Near the stairs, Sir Gawain was standing guard- another knight that the family formed a close bond with, he nodded in her direction. She acknowledged warmly, "morning! Have you seen Lancelot around?" Aurora searched the courtyard.

"... I think he went to the pub, princess." Gawain wasn't quite sure why the princess needed Lancelot, but he didn't have the right to pry.

Aurora thanked him, and made her way in the direction of the pub that was popular in Camelot. She didn't really like the idea of going in this place, but she was determined to see the knight after not seeing him for three days. She assumed he had been quite busy, and she respected it. Something about his company.. she yearned for, and Aurora started to realize the knight had started to make a huge impression on the young princess heart, and she couldn't deny that as much as she tried to. When she entered the smelly pub, she was given some curious looks from the costumers inside. But, she ignored them and made her way towards the bar where Lancelot was sitting. He was startled slightly when the princess tapped him on the shoulder. "Rough day?" Aurora took note that Lancelot had drunk a tall glass of rum, and currently taking a huge gulp of another glass.

"I can enjoy a little rum without having a bad day, princess."

"A little?" Aurora's eyebrow raised a brow.

"This will be my last one, I promise." Lancelot mumbled, before taking another sip. "You don't need to be in here." He gently warned, glancing over his shoulder keeping an eye out.

"When is your next patrol?" Aurora interrupted the knight. She watched him finish his drink, toss some money on the bar, and stand up. Leading her towards the exit. Lancelot didn't want the princess in her any longer.

"Actually, Gawain will take over the next following days." He allowed Aurora to exit the pub first. Catching up to follow alongside her now.

"Maybe we can fit in a training session then, huh?" Aurora's eyes gleamed in excitement.

"You ready to lose to me so soon?" Lancelot grinned back at her.

"Excuse me?" Aurora shoved him. Acting offended by his response, "if this was a competition, I can assure you that I'd win in a heartbeat!" The princess challenged, feeling confident before the knight.

"If you say so. I'll meet you at the training grounds before sunset." Lancelot brushed against her shoulder, as he walked pass her, walking in the direction of the palace. The knight froze at the top of the stairs when he noticed the Queen had been watching the pair. "M'lady." He bowed his head in respect.

"Sir Lancelot." Her eyes softened, "what was that all about?" She motioned in Aurora's direction. The knight hesitated, not sure if he should be fessing up to the queen about what was discussed between them. But, he knew well enough to not hide things.

"I've been training your daughter..." Lancelot admitted, his gaze fell to the ground. The queen's expression didn't change whatsoever.

"Well, I couldn't choose anyone better to train her." Lancelot acknowledged her compliment with a simple nod. They parted ways, and the queen reunited with her daughter.

--

That night...

The queen was getting ready for bed, her maiden left the room shortly after Sonic made his appearance. "We need to talk about Aurora's upcoming courtship with Alastair's son." At the edge of the bed, Sonic froze for a moment before kicking off his shoes. "I think we should reconsider the agreement." She slipped underneath her silk covers, waiting for her husband's response. "I don't want her courting someone she doesn't even know."

"It's how he runs things." Sonic sounded frustrated with the situation. "This could end our peace with them if we disagree out of the blue."

"We can at least let him meet her, I reckon. Aurora should have her own say who she courts. " She laid beside her husband, and got closer to him. "I've noticed a certain knight growing fond of her." Sonic quickly turned to look at the pink hedgehog. "Honey, don't tell me you didn't notice."

"She's suppose to marry another royal suitor." Sonic rolled his eyes. Honestly, he couldn't even think of his little girl getting married. Time was flying by, and sooner than later their daughter will be Queen; whether or not she desired to take that role or not. But marry a Knight? That wasn't common, at least not that Sonic knew of.

"He'd make a great leader, Sonic. You know that."

[shadowsong26fic]

Writing meme question: 2, 7, and 9. (If it isn't too much) :D

Nope, not at all too much :D

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

...hmmmmmmmmmm...that is a good question, lol. Uh, I’m not necessarily coming up with anything specific? Although I guess there is some stuff that I mostly do in either RP contexts or very private self-indulgent nonsense that it might be nice to treat Properly, so to speak. Things like self-indulgent crossovers and/or AU concepts, random things like wingfic/bonded creatures/etc. (though only in certain contexts and usually fitting those into an otherwise-canon universe), certain H/C tropes...also, not really tropes, but there’s a couple of rarepairs that I’d love to see more of (for which I’d pretty much have to write it myself lol) but either because I’m not sure I have a handle on the character voices involved or just because...pairing-focused stuff is not really where my fic brain lives for the most part, lol.

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Oooooh, this is a hard one. Uh. Let’s go with this, from a short story set in one of my original worlds, The Farglass Cycle (previously known as Feredar):

The Audience Hall, at least, seemed to be mirrored rather than clear, other than the dais ahead of her. It gave the impression that Queen Kesshare was floating, rather than sitting, when the light hit her right. As if chairs and floors were for mere mortals, like her consort beside her, not for the iron-hard desert Queen with her dark hawk's eyes and deceptively simple and soft-looking silver gown. She looked like a bronze-gilt statue of a harsh Goddess of the Dead, and Sheminne didn't have to be a performer to know that every aspect of the Queen's clothing, posture, Hall, down to her husband slightly behind her, in shadow, on a more-solid throne, the fact that the cavernous room, with its graceful columns and shimmering floor was entirely empty save for the three of them and a handful of silent bodyguards... It was calculated for exactly that impression of ultimate power and doom.

There are some things I would edit here--I know that my Main Writing Flaw is run-on sentences/overuse and abuse of commas, semicolons, emdashes, ellipses...you name it, I love it. [Hi, we’re the Neverending Sentences, and we’ll be here all night]

...anyway, I’m aware of that weakness of mine, and I think I’d do some more editing here (I wrote this...yeesh, nearly ten years ago; and it sticks out as particularly run-on).

But what I like about this is that...I’m also not super good at description? (Like, for example, the fact that I have yet to describe Dr. Naar in Precipice is not only because I still haven’t made up my mind as to whether he’s Human or Besalisk; it’s also at least partly because fitting in descriptions like that is Awkward and I Don’t Like Doing It, lol).

This is, I think, one of my better efforts at description. It tells you pretty much everything you need to know about Kesshare (who, fun fact, is Not actually the villain in this story; but if other events abroad hadn’t upstaged her, she would absolutely be the villain of another story). And it gives you at least a little bit about the nation she rules (the Kingdom of the City of Glass; usually just referred to as Glass or the City of Glass), and something of its wealth/power/relationship with other nations.

Also, see here for a picture I commissioned of Kesshare awhile ago, mostly using the above passage as a reference, lol. (Kesshare is the top picture; the bottom is Taz, another character from the same story).

((Honorable mention, because they’ve been in my head lately either because characters or topic: a bunch of stuff from our faces like a mirror; both in terms of a few key moments that made Bo-Katan into who and what she became when we the audience meet her in TCW, as well as some things about her relationship with Satine and their respective philosophies; a couple snippets of miscellaneous AU bits (like this one, lol)...but I like this one, and it’s nice to draw attention to some of my original stuff sometimes, y’know?))

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

Oooooh, good question. Uh. Different things are hard for different reasons? I don’t think any fic has ever been Super Easy (except actually maybe The Devoted; that one flowed pretty smooth once I really got going). So, I guess...I’ll cycle through some of my other SW longfic projects and quick answer because Why Not:

Precipice has its ups and downs, depending on topic and focus. Arc Six was I think the hardest (despite the fact that Arc Seven has taken For Ever to get out, lol), between I’m not good at Sustained Fluff and Saw is a pain in the butt even if I wasn’t using his POV. (I swear, the next/final chapter Will Be Out Soon; I have...like...3-4 hours of work left on it which I swear I’m not using this meme to procrastinate <.< ...of course, then I have all the sequel/interquel stuff planned lol I’m sure I’ll have more Ups And Downs to complain about in the future)

our faces like a mirror, which I mentioned in the last answer, I’ve been working on on and off for, like, three years; it’s hard to balance Bo and Satine’s points of view without vilifying either; also because there is like zero canon definition of the period I’m writing about, there’s a lot of whitespace to fill in. It’s almost closer to writing original fiction in that way--I mean, I don’t have to do the heavy lifting of worldbuilding, and I am focusing on fleshing out something we have a hint of in canon that drew my attention (i.e., how did these two end up where they were/with such diametrically opposite beliefs/what is/was their relationship as sisters; how did bo-katan survive the mandalorian civil war since she pretty clearly was not with satine and the jedi; how much do their separate experiences during that time affect them/inform their future behavior (spoiler: A LOT)); but a lot of the specific events/storyline and even some of the characterization of these two women is pretty much built from scratch.

Distaff, I got stuck on ‘cause I borked my timeline and also haven’t 100% figured out how I wanted it to end.

The Phoenix; getting into Luke’s head was kind of hard; also the ending feels kind of rushed.

for we are a woven thread; find the strand; figuring out what to do with Obi-Wan’s thread was a little hard, also just...getting through the super downer beginning, lol.

SW2021 big bang: finding the actual Story buried in how the three focal characters connect and what that means for them/the rest of the galaxy. AKA lol what is the Plot.

...I’m not sure that actually answers the question, but it’s something in the neighborhood, at least?

Ask me a fic writer question! (Or, frankly, any question, I like to babble about writing to/at people. My writing discord is pretty quiet but I do that there sometimes XD)

[sasaranomiya]

Koukyuu no Karasu Volume 3 Chapter 4 - The Twilight Orb (Part 2)

An unexpected twist???

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On that day, Koushun came to Yamei Palace while it was still light, which was unusual for him.

“I’m a little busy, so I can’t stay here for long, but I came to see how you’re doing,” he said matter-of-factly without even sitting down in a chair.

“You needn’t come if you’re busy,” Jusetsu said in exasperation, but Koushun didn’t say anything and just stared at her face.

“…What?”

“If you’re well, then that’s good.”

Just as Jusetsu was wondering what that was all about, Koushun was already outside the doors.

Gazing after him as he left, Jusetsu rose. She was about to leave the room when Xingxing started to kick up a fuss, but she ignored it and chased after Koushun.

“Koushun.”

Koushun seemed a little surprised by her chasing after him.

“…Was there something you have to tell me?”

“No. I’ll see you off until you’re outside Yamei Palace.”

“…See me off?”

“Yes.” Even she herself wondered what she was doing.

Koushun slowed his hurried pace and matched Jusetsu. Ei Sei glanced back at her, but instead of giving her a sharp look, he abruptly turned back around.

She was thinking of talking about Banka, but that wasn’t something that could be done in a short distance, and it wasn’t something she had to talk about right now. It seemed Koushun had the same thought. “I have a few things I want to talk about, but it would be difficult to keep it short,” he said. “I’ll talk with you later.”

“Are you busy?”

“A little.”

It was a meaningless conversation. Once in the woods, the area became dimly lit due to the thick foliage, but it was still extremely humid.

Jusetsu stopped walking when they reached the edge of the woods. Koushun turned around.

“I’ll come visit again.”

There’s no need for you to visit—that was what she would have responded a short while ago.

“Okay.” That was all she said, and she watched him leave. The shadows darkened, perhaps because the sun was covered by clouds. Jusetsu was left behind in the dim forest.

The cries of the spotted nutcracker echoed.

Koushun returned to the inner court from the inner palace and headed for Koshi Palace on foot. He had summoned Shiki there.

Quietly located in a corner of the inner court, Koshi Palace was a small, unusual palace. Its outward appearance was simple, the pillars not even painted red. The decorative tiles depicted an old man riding a large turtle, and cast-iron lanterns hung from the eaves. Once inside, one would find a line of copperplate flags hanging along the walls. They shook and made a rattling sound when one passed by. No one knew why the building was designed this way. The stone floor was engraved with stars in gold paint.

There was no furniture except for a folding screen, a couch, and a table. Shiki was kneeling next to the couch. Koushun sat down on the couch and told him to raise his head.

“…There is a place I would like for you to go,” Koushun said quietly. Shiki glanced up at him and nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“It’s close to Meiin’s house. It’s a mansion in Tourin Row.”

Shiki looked up in surprise. “That’s—”

“I’ll have someone of the Northern Command act as your escort.”

A soldier of the Northern Palace Guard. Tourin Row was the area where the Un estate was located.

“I want you to meet Eitoku. If you tell him that you’re here on my order, he will meet you.”

Shiki silently waited for the order of what he was going to do when he met Eitoku. Koushun leaned toward him, who was still kneeling.

The image of Eitoku, who he adored as his teacher since childhood, flashed through his mind and disappeared.

There was a commotion at Yamei Palace when the dim light of the evening was deepening.

Xingxing was the one who started making a fuss, but before they could feel the presence of a visitor, something akin to a scream rang out.

“Lady Raven Consort! Lady Raven Consort, please help us!”

It was Senjo’s voice. She was terribly distraught. She flew in when Jusetsu hastily opened the door.

“Lady Raven Consort…”

It seemed that the attendant, who was not accustomed to running, had run all the way here. She collapsed to the floor, panting. Jiujiu went to the kitchen to get water, and Jusetsu ran to her side to help her up. She rubbed Senjo’s back as she coughed, gave her the water, and waited for her to calm down.

“What happened?” Jusetsu asked once she settled down.

“Lady Banka…the Lady Crane Consort suddenly collapsed.”

“Collapsed? Did she suddenly become ill?”

“No—I don’t know. She’s suffering from a high fever.”

A high fever.

She recalled the story about the curse she heard from Banka during the day.

“We called for the doctor, but something strange happened when Lady Banka collapsed—”

“Something strange?”

“In the evening, a package arrived from the Saname clan—this is a common occurrence. Fabrics and accessories are often sent to her. This time, there were several accessories. It seemed that something strange was mixed in among them. It was a bracelet, but as soon as Lady Banka put it on, she collapsed.”

“…Was it coated with poison?”

Senjo shook her head. “That was the first thing we suspected, so we immediately removed the bracelet to check.”

However, there was no evidence that poison had been applied to the bracelet or implanted.

“And then, Lady Banka developed a fever…Lady Raven Consort, what do we do?”

What do we do…how am I supposed to know?

“I am not a doctor.”

“Isn’t there any way to cure her? Prayer, or anything… Anyway, will you please take a look at Lady Banka?”

Jusetsu weakened. What could she do even if she saw her? But, there was one thing that concerned her: the fact that Banka had a fever, just like the Saname curse.

“I can’t promise anything,” Jusetsu stood up. “For now, I will take a look at her condition.”

“Thank you very much,” Senjo prostrated herself. It was as though she was entreating a deity, and Jusetsu felt uncomfortable. Accompanied only by her escorts Onkei and Tan Kai, Jusetsu hurried to Hakkaku Palace.

At Hakkaku Palace, the moment she passed through its gates, she could feel the unsettled atmosphere. Eunuchs and palace ladies rushed back and forth in the corridors, and attendants were also going in and out of Banka’s room. When Jusetsu entered the room, she saw Banka lying on the bed. Her face was visibly red, her eyes were moist with fever, and she was panting in pain.

“The doctor left just now…he prepared some medical decoction for relieving her fever, but she seems unable to drink it.”

The elderly attendant by the side of the bed explained the situation. She was the oldest of all of Banka’s attendants. Her name was Rokujo. She was pale and trembling with agitation as she tried to calm herself down.

“Where is the bracelet?” Jusetsu asked, and one of the attendants brought a box that had been placed on the table. It contained a gold bracelet.

Gold? Even though Banka prefers silver?

Jusetsu frowned as she held the box and looked at the bracelet.

This is…

These kinds of things were immediately recognizable. Just like the time with Senjo.

“This is a cursed item.”

The attendants in the room gasped or let out faint screams.

“W-What does that mean, Lady Raven Consort?” Rokujo asked fearfully.

“A curse has been laid on this bracelet. Did you say that this was in a package sent by the Saname clan?”

“Yes—oh, but this isn’t a gift for Lady Banka.”

“What?”

“Lady Banka wrote a letter to the master saying that she wanted to be friends with a consort because she was close to her age, so perhaps this was a gift for that purpose—”

“Wait. What are you saying? By consort who’s close to her age, you don’t mean—”

“She was talking about you, Lady Raven Consort.”

Jusetsu’s gaze returned to the bracelet. “So, this was meant to be a gift for me?”

Was that why it was gold instead of silver.

“Yes. However, when Lady Banka saw the bracelet, she said that it wasn’t pretty and that it didn’t suit the Lady Raven Consort, so she decided to give you a hairpin that was presented to her and keep this bracelet as her own.”

“In other words, they were switched. This was originally supposed to be for me.”

Rokujo nodded.

The one who was supposed to be cursed was me.

This was a deadly curse. Someone was trying to kill Jusetsu. But why?

Jusetsu stared closely at the bracelet. The gold bracelet was inlaid with a milk-white gem. Where the gem was set, there was a decoration carved into it… She looked at it closely.

The carved details were in the form of a toad. The toad was holding the gem. That was what was carved.

A toad. The god that was killed by the Saname…

Jusetsu peeled off the sheeting of the box that contained the bracelet. A curse talisman was pasted to the bottom of the box. The handwriting was familiar. Curses were difficult to grasp as individual characters, the flow of the brush, the way the ink blurred, and the sweeping strokes and upward turns all reflected the idiosyncrasies of the writer, just as in the case of characters. The handwriting was very similar to the talisman used to curse Senjo.

Banka muttered something, and Jusetsu leaned in closer to listen.

“…I’m sure, it’s…Hakurai…”

“Hakurai? Are you saying that this curse is the work of Hakurai?”

Banka nodded slightly.

“I…hate…that man…”

She wrung out her voice under her labored breathing.

“He…cozied up…to Father…” Banka said, sounding half-delirious.

Hakurai—the founder of the Eight Truths. He tried to curse Jusetsu, the Raven Consort.

Could Senjo’s curse also be…

What if, apart from the purpose of cursing Senjo, there was some other intention, such as testing the power of the Raven Consort, or harassing her?

“Lady Raven Consort, what do we do?” Rokujo asked weakly.

“…I will break the curse.”

The attendants let out cries of relief and astonishment. Jusetsu asked them to leave the room and was left alone with Banka. She placed the bracelet and the box side by side on the table and stared at them.

A toad spell.

She remembered hearing about that. It was a spell used by sorcerers. The items they used, such as toads, snakes, and poisonous insects, differed depending on the person. The bracelet was adorned with a toad and a grayish-white stone, which was said to be obtained from the head of a frog. It was called a toad stone.

According to one theory, silver was made from condensed moonlight, and gold was made from concentrated sunlight. Wulian Niangniang, who was Yeyoushen, was weak against light. Was this bracelet gold because of that?

Jusetsu glanced at Banka. Her face was hot, and sweat beaded her forehead and neck. Her breaths were fast and shallow. She wiped her sweat with the handkerchief placed by her side. Banka opened her eyes slightly and tried to look at Jusetsu with unfocused eyes. Lady Raven Consort, she seemed to say with a hoarse voice.

“No need to worry. I’ll break the curse,” Jusetsu told her. She didn’t know if Banka heard her or not, but she knitted her brow slightly and closed her eyes.

Jusetsu pulled out a peony from her hair. Whether it was a toad or snake, these curses could be broken by breaking the curse tool.

The flower transformed into pale red smoke that drifted in the air. She drew it close with her fingers, manipulated it, and shaped it into an arrow. Jusetsu grabbed it and aimed it at the toad stone on the bracelet. She swung down all at once. The arrowhead shattered the toad stone—or at least, it was supposed to.

“!”

The moment the arrow hit the stone, the arrowhead slowly unraveled and disappeared as though it was being sucked in.

“…This is…”

The same thing happened with the Owl.

What does this mean? At that time, if I remember correctly…

It’s pointless to fight with your own family. If you’re going to fight, use a toribe.

Yes, that was what the Owl told her.

Jusetsu scrutinized the bracelet. She was able to return the curse cast on Senjo. Why couldn’t this spell be broken? A toad spell. Toad. The same as the god who cursed the Sanames.

“…I need the power of a god?”

The Sanames were cursed. At the same time, they possessed a sacred treasure. An orb that held the power of a god.

I can also use that.

Jusetsu glared at the bracelet, but raised her head and ran to the lattice window. She opened the lattice. The starry darkness was spreading.

Which way was Yamei Palace? Jusetsu looked around. It didn’t matter. She was calling it anyway. The answer was given to her by the Owl.

“Sumaru!”

Jusetsu’s sharp voice resounded in the darkness. What felt like an incredibly long time passed before she heard the flapping of wings.

The flapping of its wings and its raspy cries tore through the silence. White spots appeared in the darkness. Brown wings. Jusetsu stretched out her arm. The spotted woodpecker flapped its wings restlessly as it descended and perched on her arm. Its claws dug into her arm, and Jusetsu’s face twisted a little in pain. However, this wasn’t the time to complain.

“Sumaru, give me one of your feathers.”

The spotted woodpecker let out a cry, as if giving permission, and Jusetsu plucked out one feather from its wings. When she shook her arm, the spotted woodpecker flew away. The feather transformed into a double-edged sword. The shining brown blade was dotted with white spots like stars. Jusetsu slashed through the air with the sword, making a light whoosh sound.

Jusetsu stood in front of the table. She looked at the gold bracelet and raised her sword. She swung it down with all her might.

The blade made a hard, sharp sound. She felt some resistance pushing her hand back. A gray-brown smoke began to disperse from the toad stone. It enveloped the bracelet, as though to protect it. Jusetsu dug her heels in and pushed the sword down with even more force. There was a sensation like breaking through a membrane. She heard water splashing furiously. A deafening, piercing, and unpleasant cry resounded.

The voice lingered for a long time, but gradually became quieter and thinner, and then finally faded away. She looked and found the smoke had disappeared, the stone was shattered, and the bracelet was broken in half. As she looked on, the bracelet crumbled like ashes.

Silence returned. Jusetsu let out a breath.

She heard a knock on the door.

“Lady Raven Consort, what was that sound just now…?”

It was Rokujo. “You may come in now,” Jusetsu said. The door opened, and the attendants nervously entered. Rokujo was the first to run to Banka’s bed.

“Her fever…!”

She touched Banka’s forehead in surprise. Banka’s complexion had returned to normal, and her breathing became regular and calm. She was sleeping well.

“Lady Raven Consort,” all the attendants knelt before Jusetsu. They were prostrating themselves as though worshiping a god. “Thank you very much, Lady Raven Consort…”

“There’s no need for this. That curse was originally directed towards me.”

Jusetsu backed away at the sight of the attendants. She wasn’t a god, and she didn’t want to be worshipped.

“No…! What would have become of Lady Banka if you hadn’t been here, Lady Raven Consort?”

Rokujo began to cry, perhaps out of relief. The other attendants also began to cry or soothe each other, and the room became noisy. Jusetsu slipped out of the room quietly. Onkei and Tan Kai were waiting outside the door.

“Are you injured, Niangniang?” Onkei asked.

“No,” she responded and began walking away. She was exhausted. The moment she exited the gate, she staggered. Onkei and Tan Kai held out their arms at the same time to support her, so she didn’t collapse to the ground.

“I shall carry you on my back.”

Onkei turned his back to her and knelt down. Under normal circumstances, she would have refused, but right now she found it too exhausting to even open her mouth, so she silently entrusted her body to his back.

Why did the leader of the Eight Truths, Hakurai, try to kill me?

The Owl, who also tried to kill her, didn’t hold a grudge against her. He only tried to kill her out of necessity.

But, this curse was different. There was a clear intention to have her “die painfully.”

The depths of her heart went cold.

Am I hated?

Is it because I’m despised?

When those thoughts crossed her mind, her heart trembled, and she couldn’t move. She no longer knew what to do. And she didn’t even know if it was her own heart that was trembling with fear, or if it was the Raven’s.

I don’t know anything.

Jusetsu felt like she was still that child cowering in the darkness of night. There was no one to point the way. Reijou raised her so that she could walk on her own two feet, require no one’s help, and never need to ask for anyone’s help. That was who the Raven Consort was, after all. Jusetsu had also intended to live her life without asking for anyone’s help.

However—.

In the darkness, she felt the warmth of Onkei’s back, and for the first time, she wanted to cry out from the bottom of her heart for someone to help her.

Shiki was led down a hall in the Un mansion. Instead of sitting in the chair offered to him, he waited for Un Eitoku. The soldier escorting him was waiting outside the door.

The room was very modest. The desk and cabinet were probably made out of good-quality rosewood, but they weren’t painted with expensive black lacquer or decorated with mother-of-pearl. The blue-and-white porcelain vase on the stand didn’t seem to be too expensive.

It wasn’t all that surprising. One could tell by Eitoku’s appearance that he didn’t like extravagance. The room was clean, but not luxurious. Perhaps that was what it meant to be a distinguished family.

After making him wait long enough to fully examine the furnishings in the room, Eitoku arrived. He threw a cool glance at Shiki. At times like this, Shiki always felt like he had been stripped naked. People of distinguished families always looked at him like he had nothing. It was probably subconscious. That was why it showed in his glance.

“Sit,” Eitoku told him after sitting down himself.

“No, I shall remain standing.”

Shiki could have obeyed him without any protest, but he stubbornly refused. His Majesty never looked at me like this. He simply looked at Shiki with a transparent, colorless gaze. That was why Shiki served him. Koushun never broke his polite demeanour even for someone like Shiki, but possessed a dignified and noble manner.

“So,” Eitoku cast a sharp glance at Shiki, who was still standing. “What sort of business is so urgent that you need to meet with me at this hour?”

“I am here at His Majesty’s command.”

Eitoku’s mustache fluttered. “His Majesty, you say. What kind of order is it?”

“I understand that you have been patronizing a silk merchant from Ga Province lately.”

“His wares are good. That is all. –Ga Province is associated with the Sanames, though. Could it be that His Majesty thinks that I’m working with the Sanames and plotting a rebellion?”

Saying this frankly, Eitoku laughed, while Shiki stared at his face without smiling. Eitoku grimaced, looking displeased.

“Speak your business now. But even if you say you’re dragging me before His Majesty on suspicion of treason, I won’t believe you. His Majesty isn’t such a fool. Now, tell me what you want. This is no time to vague.”

Eitoku’s voice held the confidence and composure that had supported Koushun for many years. It was a calmness that came from trust of Koushun’s intelligence.

That finally brought a soft smile to Shiki’s lips. “I feel the same way.”

Eitoku looked puzzled.

“I apologize for doing something so audacious as testing you. His Majesty has charged me with giving you a message. ‘Tell Reiko Shiki everything you can find out and use it.’”

Eitoku’s eyes widened.

“Please let me know how I can help you. I will do my best.”

“—Has His Majesty noticed?”

“Just as you said earlier, His Majesty is no fool. His Majesty knows you well, just as you know him well. You were investigating the silk merchant from Ga Province under the pretense of being swayed by him. You used your ‘ears’ in the inner palace to investigate the Sanames.”

Shiki took a step toward Eitoku and lowered his voice.

“What His Majesty wants to know most of all is who is working with the Eight Truths. –It’s not Saname Chouyou, right?”

Eitoku looked in Shiki’s eyes and nodded firmly.

The copper banners were shattered. Hakurai, who was standing in the center of the room, let out a groan and crouched down, covering his left eye.

The toad spell was broken.

I can’t believe it. Does she still have that much power left? That was a spell that borrowed the power of a divine treasure—.

There was a burning pain in the left half of his face. A lukewarm liquid overflowed from between his fingers. Blood dripped onto his clothes and the floor.

Groaning, Hakurai groped around in his pocket. The divine treasure he took out—the Twilight Orb—was shattered into pieces. In Hakurai’s palm, it turned into dust and vanished.

How stupid.

Hakurai pressed his handkerchief against his left eye and stumbled out the door. The main house was noisy. He could see torches burning. Hakurai put his hand on the wall and staggered on unsteady legs down the corridor toward the main house.

Someone was talking. It was—the voice of this mansion’s owner. It was the Saname elder’s voice.

“What are you trying to do, Chouyou! Pointing a blade at me—at me!”

Hakurai turned the corner of the corridor and appeared in front of the main house. Standing in front of the door was the master in his nightwear and a man facing him. The man was in his forties with sharp features. He was accompanied by his retainers, who were holding torches behind him.

He was the head of the Saname clan, Chouyou.

“Do you think you can talk your way out of this, Uncle? I understand that you were trying to infiltrate the Un clan by sending your own man to the capital, and that you were scheming to regain your own vested rights as well.”

“So what? I’m the Saname elder.”

Chouyou looked coldly at his uncle, who didn’t even attempt to make an excuse for himself.

“Yes. The Sanames take care of their elderly. It is precisely because we respect you as our elder that we have turned a blind eye to you until now.”

Chouyou let out a somewhat theatrical sigh.

“Have you forgotten in your old age what you did during the time of the empress dowager, conspiring with the worthless chief official of Ga Province, who bought his position with money? You falsified the profits of the domain, put it all in your own pockets, bribed the chief official to turn a blind eye, and poisoned my subordinate who tried to inform the central government of your wrongdoings. When the empress dowager was overthrown and the chief official dismissed, you came crying to me when you found yourself in a dire position. If the matter came to light, not only you, but the Saname would also not be able to escape punishment, so I dealt with the aftermath and protected you. All I asked you to do was to never leave the mansion. And yet you’re still dissatisfied with that?”

Chouyou gave his uncle a chilling look. His uncle turned pale. His gray hair was disheveled, and there was no longer a shred of the Saname dignity in him. He staggered back, but perhaps because of his weak knees, which he hurt on a regular basis due to his age, he fell onto his behind.

“I…I simply wanted to fulfill Saname’s earnest wish! To gather strength and return to Kakami! That is all. You also understand, don’t you?”

The old Saname elder looked up at Chouyou as though pleading. Chouyou simply looked down at him coldly.

“You have never thought about the Saname. You’re only thinking about yourself. Secretariat Un is of a different caliber than the former chief official. A paltry bribe won’t work on him. On the contrary, your contact with Secretariat Un has aroused suspicion, and your past wrongdoings will soon be revealed. That isn’t all. That deputy inspector you poisoned is now a scholar who serves the emperor. We can no longer cover things up. The Sanames will be punished. All because of you.”

Chouyou put his hand on the hilt of the sword hanging from his waist.

“I asked His Majesty to grant his forgiveness in exchange for your life. I hope at least your head will become useful to us.”

There was a flash of light.

His skill was magnificent. With a single stroke, the head detached from the torso and flew into the air. Blood spurted out. Chouyou stepped back and dodged the blood. The retainers behind him immediately rushed to the body and head and started cleaning up.

Chouyou turned his gaze to Hakurai. Hakurai was kneeling there. After Chouyou looked down at him fixedly, he said, “You must leave Ga Province.” It was an order of exile.

“Yes,” Hakurai answered obediently.

“…Did you injure your eye?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll let you receive treatment for it, at least. Bring him to the mansion and call for the doctor.”

A servant approached. Hakurai called out to Chouyou’s back as he was about to leave.

“Injou is in the detached house. A little girl is there. She will come with me as well.”

Chouyou turned around and looked at Hakurai briefly, then motioned to one of his servants.

“You should learn from this and stop this sect leader nonsense.”

After saying that, Chouyou left for good. Hakurai watched him intently as he disappeared into the darkness.

Previous || Index || Next

[gideonaceleigh]

Book Roundup 2019!

I’ve read a lot of really amazing books this year so I thought I’d give a brief ‘review’ of them and my recommendations!! I know it looks like I’m a light reviewer, but I’ve decided to not waste my time on books that are lackluster to me so I’m more than willing to give up on a book halfway through lol

5 Stars

1. Spin the Dawn by Elizabeth Lim YA Fantasy

ahhh!! I’m so obsessed with the book. The cover art alone is insane!! Basically a mix of Mulan and the fairytale about spinning straw into gold. Has sorcery, magic, and shapeshifting!! A proper OTP <3 

2. The Winter of the Witch by Katherine Arden Fantasy

A spectacular end to a spectacular series. Russian fairytale retelling. Another amazing OTP. Magic!! 

3. The Tiger’s Daughter by K. Arsenault Rivera Fantasy

Lesbians on horses with swords! What more could you ask for! Demon slayers and Gods!

4. The Gilded Wolves by Roshani Chokshi Fantasy, maybe YA?

oof. Got this in one of my OwlCrates and did not expect it to hit as hard as it did. Based in Paris. A beautiful burlesque dancer who can ‘read’ an objects history. A character who’s been robbed of his proper inheritance. A flower artisan. A rebel. A arguably autistic coded Russian girl who’s a little to into making things explode. And an ‘antagonist’ who isn’t really an antagonist and who I may be a little in love with. Super beautifully done! Excited for the sequel!

5. Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan  YA Fantasy

Heart wrenching. Powerful. Painful. There are three castes: Moon caste are demons who each take on animalistic features. Steele caste are half human and half demon with a few animalistic features. Paper caste are pure humans. Every year the Bull Moon caste king brings in about a dozen Paper Girls from the different regions. This is the year one of girls brings in a rebellion. Primary characters are lesbians and I love them <3 tw: for sexual assault. there are warning at the beginning and resources given at the end

6. We Hunt the Flame by Hafsah Faizal YA Fantasy

oof. My boy Altair isn’t a ‘main’ character but not a ‘main main’ character but I love him and his flirty, flirty ways!!

opening line is: “People died because he lived.” second chapter opens with: “People lived because she killed.” and the dichotomy between the two characters is amazing!! beautifully well done!! Arabic inspired! 

7. Anna Dressed in Blood by Kendare Blake YA Horror

a wonderfully intense and engaging horror!! the characters are amazing and very well developed. Kendare is one of my favorite authors <3

8. Shatter City by Scott Westerfeld YA Scifi? Dystopian?

A continuation of his “Uglies” series and just as engaging and powerful as the others! A long time favorite series and author!

9. The Kingdom by Jess Rothenberg 5 stars  YA Fantasy

Holy shit. This book absolutely knocked me out. The style is unique and fresh. The story is told through a series of court transcripts, police interviews, surveillance cameras, and the POV of Ana. Ana is a ‘Fantasist’ in the Kingdom basically Disney World. The Fantasists are incredibly lifelike androids meant to make your wishes come true! But then she gets accused of murder and is put on trial. Absolutely amazing!

10. Five Dark Fates by Kendare Blake YA Fantasy

A solid ending to a spectacular series!! Spent a little too much time on a lackluster romance but overall a favorite <3

11. Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson Horror

Horror from the 50s!! Pretty much nothing like the netflix series but still a wonderful read!!

12. Girls of Storm and Shadow by Natasha Ngan  YA Fantasy

Sequel to Girls of Paper and Fire. Not quite as enthralling as the first, but that’s not out of the ordinary. Moral of the story: everyone’s gay! Has the same TW as the first, along with recovery, self-harm, addiction

13. Girl of Nightmares by Kendare Blake YA Horror

Sequel to Ana Dressed in Blood. A great follow up! I was worried about how it was going to end but I was pleasantly surprised! 

14. Crown of Feathers by Nicki PauPreto YA Fantasy

Phoenix riders!! Warrior Queens! Quite a few great plot twists. Two sisters ended up in a civil war against each other for the throne, animage queen vs magicless queen. Afterwards animages were hunted down and forced into servitude. But there’s a small underground rebellion forming of new Phoenix riders!! I’ve already preordered the sequel for feb!!

15. The Bone Houses by Emily Lloyd-Jones YA Fantasy

A nice little standalone. I believe it was Welsh based? Ryn is a gravedigger near a forest rumored to house magic. Magic that brings the dead to life, but very few people believe this. When the dead start to rise in greater numbers and attacking the nearest villages Ryn and a map maker out to make his name set off to find the source and return the area to normalcy. Well done and cute <3

16. Grace and Fury by Tracy Banghart  YA Fantasy

Similar to Girls of Paper and Fire in that every year the king brings 6ish (?) girls to court to be his consorts. But it’s for life instead of just one year. One of the girls gets convicted of reading and sent off to the female prison island just off the mainland where the women there get split into different ‘tribes’ and are expected to fight for resources in a gladiator type ring. She manages to convince most of the others to band together against the island guards and is determined to find a way back to her sister on the mainland.

4 Stars

17. Wicked Saints by Emily A. Duncan  YA Fantasy

A religious country with a paladin vs a magic country with blood mages. The paladin is forced to align herself with a blood mage in order to save her country. She struggles with her faith throughout the novel while trying to find a way to align what she beliefs with what she’ll have to do to save her people. Some of the blood mages go super far to the point they’re no longer human and become howl-esque bird monsters w/steel teeth, fingernails and wings.

18. Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson YA Fantasy

Another cute standalone!! Sorcerers and magic books! Elisabeth wants nothing more than to be a warden in one of the great libraries, taking care of the grimoires. When the head of the library she’s studying at is killed but a rampaging grimoire she is the prime suspect and is forced to travel with one of the ‘evil’ sorcerers. In her quest to prove her innocence she is forced to question her beliefs and the morality of the sorcerers. 

19. Queen of Ruin by Tracy Banghart YA Fantasy

Sequel to Grace and Fury. Very cute. A little lackluster. The endings a little cheesy but heartwarming. 

[therkalexander]

The Good Counselor Chapter 4

Book Three in the Hades and Persephone series. Seventy years have passed since Elysion was created, and Persephone's efforts to conceive a child with Hades have been in vain. But a secret rite on Samothrace might bend the Fates and give her all that they have dreamed of, or pave a path of untold suffering.

Author's Note: Woohoo! The longest chapter to date! I hope you enjoyed it. I will be interviewed on a radio show called "Behind the Scenes" on Friday at 4:30pm PST if you want to tune in online. I'll be discussing The Good Counselor and turning my series into a TV show

Chapter 4

“Ready?”

Persephone clicked her teeth together. “I suppose so.”

“She did this on purpose,” Athena said. “On the very day that beast will be there…”

“You could avoid Poseidon, you know.” Her gateway through the ether twisted in a winding gyre of Phlegethon flame, and on the other side stood Olympus. “You don’t have to accompany me.”

“I know,” said Athena. “And I hope you don’t think that my ill temper is because of  you. But she told me to bring you and what the Queen wants, the Queen gets. Father is always asking us to play nice with her. Much good it does any of us.”

They stepped through. Persephone’s first impression of Olympus had held true over the years. The garden was filled with perfectly manicured trees, shading plates of rich food from the perpetually bright sunshine. But the perfume of the vibrant flowerbeds was soured but the stink of unpicked rotting fruit, uneaten food, and spilled wine. Around every elegant bend was another display of intrigue, in each secluded bower more emotionless fornication. Deferential nymphs peered over cups of wine, gods and goddesses were swarmed by their retinues, each coincidentally finding a reason to be there to catch a rare glimpse of the Queen of the Underworld.

Persephone had returned only twice since her first visit: once at her husband’s side to announce the creation of  Elysion to  Zeus and the Dodekatheon, and again as a guest of Aphrodite. She wished for  an excuse not to come here, but everyone knew the sowing season had passed, and one didn’t just turn down an invitation from the Queen of Heaven.

“You don’t have to go in,” Persephone said.

“Father wants me to.”

“Why?”

“Strategy. He went easy on me for my role in Poseidon and Apollo’s plotting. I was new to Olympus, then. He wants to make sure that his brother and I hate each other and never conspire again.”

“Given your history with Poseidon, I can’t see why he’d think that’s likely.”

“His punishment for the rebellion has been meted out slowly. He’s been inflicting that animal on me for aeons now” Athena rearranged her scowl into a smile as they passed through the hall, and she straightened her shoulders.

Poseidon stood before the throne, tattooed arms folded. He turned and spread them wide, his sea green eyes lighting up when he saw Persephone. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise!”

She’d only seen Poseidon once, and even then in the most formal of circumstances, at the court of the Dodekatheon. Persephone started to bend her knee.

“No, no, we’ll have none of that,” Zeus said, descending the step of the dais. “You’re Hades’s Queen. Not my vassal. Relax here, daughter. Hera is looking forward to meeting you.”

Poseidon cocked an eyebrow. “I was under the impression she and Amphitrite would be alone.”

“I am no tyrant over my wife’s hearth. She may invite who she likes. Besides: this is quite the occasion. The first meeting of the three goddess Queens. A momentous thing,” he said slapping Poseidon’s back. “Don’t you think, brother?”

Poseidon folded his arms, his shoulders tense. “Indeed.”

“Is Amphitrite here, your excellency?” Persephone said.

“My dear, you don’t need to call me that, and no,” he said, a smirk twisting up the corner of his mouth. “She’s hunting.”

“Not much untried quarry to be had here for either of you, uncle,” Athena said, placing a protective hand on Persephone’s shoulder. “If memory serves.”

“We’ll see.” Poseidon replied. “If she’s unsuccessful here, I could always send her to your temple.”

Athena took a step forward and Persephone could feel the heat rising from her skin.

“If memory serves, it hosts the sweetest prey of all.” Poseidon bared his teeth in a wide smile.

“Let’s not start this again in front of our dear guest,” Zeus said. “I want her to have a good impression of you both.”

“Perhaps we should kiss and make up,” Poseidon took a step toward Athena.

“That’s—”  Athena said, raising her voice. She took a quick breath and continued more calmly, “—quite unnecessary uncle. What are a few jokes among family?”

Persephone stayed quiet. Athena curtsied and quickly strode from the room, hounded by Poseidon’s chuckles echoing through the marble halls. From the corner of the room came a glow of red and yellow, indigo and green.

A woman, kneeling low, shimmered as the light settled. She rose and faced Zeus. “Your grace, your illustrious wife sent me to escort her majesty Queen Persephone to her home.”

“Yes, yes, thank your Iris,” Zeus said, waving his hand. He turned to Persephone. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time. Sadly, I don’t think I will be free when you are finished. There’s much business that needs attending to.”

“Fates, I hope not…” Poseidon muttered. He gave Persephone a kindly smile and nodded to her.

She nodded to her father and Poseidon, then followed Iris out of the symposium. Persephone had only seen her from a distance as a child. The goddess-in-waiting to Hera had hair like a raven’s wing, tinged with every color of the rainbow, and her gown shifted color as she took Persephone through shadow and light in the marble halls and along the path to the Palace of Hera. The walk down the hill to Hera’s villa made Persephone uneasy. How odd that Hera kept a separate home, a separate bed from her husband, and situated below his place at the peak of Olympus. Just as her throne was steps below that of the King of the Gods. Hades’s Palace was Persephone’s palace, and Persephone’s bed was Hades’s bed. Olympus again proved itself a world apart.

Like the other private palaces of the Dodekatheon, the grand villa was newer than the old citadel of Olympus itself— the original home of Gaia and Ouranos. Its columns were painted marble statues of women, the heavy balustrade beneath the domed ceiling resting on their uplifted arms.

“If you think this is impressive,” a voice beside her whispered, “you should see ours beneath the waves. And saffron is a good color on you. The daughters of the sea don’t wear that shade often. A pity.”

Persephone blinked, startled from her reverie. Her unexpected companion was a curvy woman with rich umber skin and blue coral and cowry shells woven through her tightly braided hair. A diadem of cross sectioned conch shells sat above her thin eyebrows. She was clothed strangely, like the paintings of the priestess queens on Old Crete. Her flounced skirt and tight fitting blouse were made of an embroidered linen as diaphanous as sea foam. “Am— are you Amphitrite?”

“The same. Though perhaps it’s not so grand. Poseidon and I have merely one bed to share, instead of two. One throne instead of a pretty chair three steps below the big one. The bed keeps him from straying too far if I’m there waiting every night, and sitting thigh to thigh keeps his eyes from wandering too far by day… ”

Persephone’s cheeks grew hot and she stared at Iris’s back, wondering how much Hera’s lady in waiting could hear.

“You’re an earth goddess… wouldn’t you agree that the best way to keep a man from sowing his wild oats is to make sure that his grain silo is always empty?”

“I hadn’t heard that analogy before…”

“I hear you sit your own throne in Chthonia, but Fates— tell me you don’t sleep separately from Hades,” Amphitrite said, louder than was necessary for Persephone to hear her.

“Ah, no, our room is… we definitely— well, I suppose, for six months of the year…”

The sea goddess laughed and threw an arm around Persephone. “Don’t be so nervous up here. They’ll eat you alive. And she will think you’re as much of a prig as she is.”

Persephone’s jaw fell slack and she stared at Amphitrite.

She bit her full lip and chortled. “I couldn’t care less what the rainbow girl hears.”

Iris’s long peplos shifted from a sky blue to the violent gray green of a storm and she spun about. Her face was tight. She forced a smile and straightened her back, her dress lightening until at last it returned to a tranquil hue. She spoke to Persephone. “I shall introduce the consort of Poseidon first. You, as our most honored guest, shall be introduced last.”

A delicate golden gate, it’s filigree mimicking swirls of clouds and the eyes of peacock feathers, swung wide and Iris walked through, followed by Amphitrite and Persephone.

Amphitrite turned her head. You, as our most honored guest, shall be introduced last, she mouthed, exaggerating Iris’s mannerisms. She ended her impression with a spin and a courtly bow. Persephone stifled a laugh.

They passed between the statues who held the ceiling aloft. One looked a bit like her mother. A peahen shrieked and ran across their path, pursued by a peacock. Iris turned the corner and led them through a grand hall, similar to the symposium of Olympus, but with watery light dimmed by gauzy blue veils and green drapes. The columns inside were enormous and carved at the base with stylized lotuses. Soft divans were scattered in clumps here and there, covered in plush fleeces and rolled wool pillows. Frescos and tapestries featuring lionesses with their young, pomegranates, and the ubiquitous peacock feathers plastered the walls. Shafts of light penetrated here and there, giving the strange feeling of being submerged, but the color and softness was welcoming after the Symposium. A delicate, jeweled throne dominated the center of the room, empty.

“Majestic Hera, most treasured daughter of Rhea, She of the Heights, Protector of Men, wife of Zeus Aegiduchos Cronides, and Queen of Heaven,” Iris said to the empty throne, “may I present Amphitrite Halocydne Nereida, Lady of the Sea, Goddess of the Encircling Third, consort of Poseidon, and may I introduce Persephone Karpophoros Chthonios, Goddess of Spring, Exacter of Justice, consort of Aidoneus, and Queen of the Underworld.”

As her titles were uttered, Persephone knelt to one knee, her head bowed. She pressed her right palm to the floor, just as her husband did when in the presence of Zeus, though she was uncertain to whom she was bowing. The throne before her was still empty. She kept her head lowered.

Amphitrite had given a customary nod and curtsy, but stood tall.

“We are all equals here. Please. Stand.”

Persephone rose and looked for the source of the voice. Beyond the throne, a blue veiled woman sat at a loom, her back to them as she wove a fine woolen thread through the taut strands. Iris bowed low once, backed toward the door, curtsied, and departed.

Hera stood and pushed her veil off her head. Beneath were dark locks held up by a simple green filet. Her features were sharp, yet warm, large brown eyes that reminded Persephone of Aidoneus, and a thin, serene smile. Malachite hung heavy on her lids, and kohl rimmed the edges, making them appear even larger. “Come. I thought tea would be in order. If memory serves, wine is not preferred in the lands below, so we shall abstain.”

Persephone felt tension leave her shoulders. “Tea would be fine, thank you.”

“It might be a bit tepid. They took it off Hestia’s hearth several minutes ago.”

Was she late? No, three hours past midday was the appointed time, she thought. Hestia… Persephone tried to remember. The second Child of Kronos. Hera’s closest friend, who had a vast collection of herbs and spices curated from all the plants of the world, some varieties lost for aeons. She cared for the plants, and tended to the hearth with which she cooked and warmed Olympus. And her gateway through the ether was the same as Persephone’s: fire. “Will she be joining us also?”

“No.”

She balked at Hera’s abruptness. But then the Goddess Queen smiled broadly, exposing perfectly white, if slightly large teeth. “I thought it should just be us today. The three of us have never really met.”

“A bit odd that you haven’t invited her here,” Amphitrite said, “since she has been Hades’s queen for nearly four score years. We all thought you were going to go the whole one hundred before holding court with her.”

Hera demurred. “Alas, we’ve been… preoccupied. Much has transpired in that time, no? And dear Amphitrite, how many times has Persephone been a guest at your palace?”

Persephone already felt like a country peasant here. Was she remiss in requesting an audience with Hera or paying fealty to the Queen? Had her oversight endangered the alliance between the Earth and the Heavens? Despite Hera’s tone of friendliness and informality, Persephone kept alert, knowing that every word she chose might be perilous.

“Speaking of, Persephone, I must apologize to you.” Hera moved closed to her, her eyes cast to the ground.

“For what?”

“When I sent you that pomegranate nectar…” She grasped Persephone’s hands, her fingers warm, and looked at her with pleading eyes. “I never intended for my wedding gift to aid your mother’s maidservant in causing so much trouble.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I assure you.”

“I understand you dealt with that wretch and your mother’s base behavior rather succinctly.”

Don’t ever show them weakness, Demeter had told her. Let them believe what they must, her husband had said. Persephone straightened her back. “Yes. I did.”

“Ooh, there’s an idea, Hera.” Amphitrite giggled. “How do you suppose Zeus would react if you made his next dalliance burst into flames mid-stroke?”

“My ways are more subtle than that,” Hera shot back at her. “Thanks to her resourcefulness, Persephone’s husband was unharmed. And, if anything had transpired, Aidoneus wasn’t himself. He had been poisoned by that whore, had he not?”

“With ergot,” Persephone said guardedly.

“Well, as I said.” Hera again cast her eyes to the ground. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am, Persephone, that you had to endure that.”

“In the grand scheme of things,” Persephone said with a strained smile, “nothing happened.”

Hera clapped once, and three lady’s maids dressed in identical sky blue peplum floated into the room, each bearing a steaming  kantharos. Hera took her place on a divan, and Persephone and Amphitrite flanked her on couches of their own. Persephone didn’t even get a chance to look into the eyes of the servant who bore the golden tray holding her tea: she was silently retreating as soon as Persephone’s cup left the platter. The tisane was pink, and smelled sweet and pungent. Persephone realized that it was rose and jasmine— an honorary nod to her role as the Goddess of Spring. She inhaled and smiled.

“Now, Hera usually punishes those women’s sons and daughters, rather… firmly,” Amphitrite said, “But you… Is it true what I heard from Anauros of Thessaly about what you did to Kokytos, Minthe’s own father?”

“That was… an unrelated matter. He violated the rules of my husband’s kingdom and the dead cast many curses upon him for his wrongdoings. It was my duty to carry them out.”

Amphitrite laughed. “You sound like Aidoneus. So grave! He’s certainly wormed his way well into you, hasn’t he?”

Persephone blushed and looked away, sipping her tea. A burst of sweetness revealed that it was full of ambrosia. She shouldn’t be surprised. Ambrosia was in everything here.

“There’s no need for you to embarrass her,” Hera said under her breath.

“Please… we’re all wives, here. And if they’ve already had a hieros gamos so impassioned that it created Elysion, a realm within their realm, I think that there’s little left to blush about.”

“Let her be the arbiter of that,” Hera said, an edge creeping into her voice. She forced a smile and changed the subject. “I have not seen Elysion yet. Though I heard from my dear husband it is incomparably beautiful.”

“I think it is,” Persephone said. After they told Olympus of its existence, Zeus had made a rare descent into Chthonia to see the Elysian Fields himself. He had said almost nothing at the time, and had looked nervous.

“Tell us a little about it.” Amphitrite said. Both she and Hera leaned forward.

“There’s… the entrance is a grove of intertwined pomegranate trees within the palace garden. Well, it was within our garden. We removed part of a wall and a path was laid out to guide the worthy souls to their new home. Once inside, Elysion appears… expansive. There are many trees, of all varieties, some from lands that we’ve only heard about, and beyond that is a sea, with green, hilly islands dotting the surface.”

“It must be vast,” Hera said, her brow knitting. “How large is Elysion?”

“We haven’t found its end yet.”

Hera’s eyes widened, then she quickly schooled her expression and took another sip. “How do you determine who enters?”

Persephone bit at her lip. “Aidoneus and I spent the better part of the last century combing Asphodel for the worthy shades. With some difficulty, we let them revisit their lost memories long enough to speak with us, and then either sent them back to the peaceful Fields, or rewarded them with Paradise.”

“That sounds exhausting,” said Amphitrite.

“Do you find these souls together during the winter, or does Aidoneus take it up when you are… with your mother?” Hera wrinkled her nose.

“I would not delay any of our— his subjects on my behalf. Aidoneus has ruled Chth— the Underworld for aeons. He is plenty able to search out the worthy shades without my assistance.”

“You have made a great change in him, I think. I didn’t take him for someone who is quite so compassionate. What of the recently departed?” Hera asked. “What must they do to gain entrance to Elysion?”

“Their soul must be prepared. Nothing more.”

“Ah, your Eleusinian Mysteries.” Hera said, raising her eyebrows. She exhaled and turned to Amphitrite. “Any news from beneath the waves, Amphitrite?”

She smiled wide, her teeth showing brilliant white. “There is. I am expecting another child.”

“Oh, by Poseidon?” Hera said over the rim of her cup.

“Oh yes,” Amphitrite hissed at her. “And I would be happy to share every exquisite detail of how he—”

“Congratulations to you,” Persephone interrupted. She hadn’t come here for this. She could very well be with Aidon right now in the comfort of their villa in Thesprotia.

“Why thank you.” Amphitrite smiled at her, and then winked. She knew that Persephone was trying her utmost to keep the peace. She readied her arrows for Hera anyway. “Poseidon was… very eager for another son.”

“You know that it’s a boy?” Persephone said, putting her cup down.

“Why yes,” Amphitrite said. “You know how these things are known.”

“I…”

“Your modesty is quite refreshing here, Persephone,” Hera chimed in.

“I beg pardon,” Persephone said, her eyes cast down on her cup. “But… I cannot claim modesty when I honestly do not know what either of you are talking about.”

Hera put down her cup and canted her head. “Oh dear, I’m sorry, I had completely forgotten you have no children. How careless of me.”

“Good! Then I’ll explain it to her.” Amphitrite stirred her tea. “After the deathless ones create a child, they can both … learn about it together. Its sex, what it might look like, sometimes its sigil for the ether…”

“How?”

“By the simple touch of both, upon the womb,” Hera said.

Amphitrite smirked. “Poseidon likes to find out from inside—”

“Persephone is too much of a lady to listen to any more of that.”

“And what sort of lady? The kind that sits beneath her lover like a concubine?”

“The sort who doesn’t speak like a concubine.”

“At least she too is her husband’s equal.”

“That is not the order of things,” Hera said quietly. “No matter how crookedly you’ve wound Poseidon around your finger.”

“Oh, you hadn’t heard? A little nymphai reminded me that Queen Persephone sits as an equal to Aidoneus.” Amphitrite turned to her. “I know how Chthonia operates. You can tell her, Persephone. Maybe she’ll learn a little something and she can finally bring that insufferable man to heel.”

Persephone sat stock still. Amphitrite was correct, but there wasn’t any way she was going to say so. Persephone didn’t know how to play this game. Fates help her if she was foolish enough to side with either of them.

Hera swallowed a polite sip. “How very strange to hear you speak that way about your sworn king, my husband, when it is well known that Poseidon’s eye wanders far afield. And debasing yourself so shamelessly for his benefit has done you little good.”

“No, plenty of good, I assure you. It was during a very enjoyable ‘debasement’ that we conceived little Eurypylus.” She stroked her belly for effect. “And our bedmate Astypalaia was all too happy to participate.”

Hera sighed, and set her tea aside. She dropped her head into her hand and squeezed her temples. Persephone didn’t move.

“Poseidon desperately wanted to bed that innocent princess, but knew I was between the tides. He started caressing her, then lowered his lips to hers, and she was so enrapt that Astypalaia didn’t even know I was in the room until I replaced Poseidon’s tongue with mine. And it turns out, Astypalaia was not so innocent as Poseidon imagined. To men, sure enough, but not to women. Trust me, the sights and sounds the two of us treated him to drained him of his seed rather quickly.”

Persephone felt the color seep from her face, and looked from Hera to Amphitrite and back.

Amphitrite snickered, then put her cup to the side before she doubled over. Her laugh echoed through the hall. “Alright, you win, Hera. I’ll stop embarrassing her. Gods… you refuse to let me have any fun.”

Persephone relaxed, relieved but exhausted. Hera exhaled and rolled her eyes. “Well since that’s done…”

“I’m done, I’m done. I promise.” She leaned forward. “One last thing though…”

Hera looked skyward. “Amphitrite…”

“Tell me, Persephone… have you considered inviting one of those delicate winged nymphs from the Styx into your chamber? I would be fascinated to find out what they are like.”

“I have not. Nor will I.”

“Surely after all these decades, you’d want to liven things up for the King of the Dead?”

“Neither Aidoneus nor I have any interest but for each other. And it will remain so.”

Hera and Amphitrite looked at one another. Hera lowered her eyes to the floor, but Amphitrite smiled and held her belly, feeling her son turn. “It’s only been seventy five years, Persephone. You have an eternity to truly find the limits to your marriage. And likewise an eternity to try for children.”

Persephone scoffed. “Well rest assured, that despite Zeus’s oath to us, I doubt a child will be forthcoming.”

“Oath? What do you mean?” Hera said, her eyes trained on her tea.

“The Stygian oath he swore to us at the Pomegranate Agreement.”

“Don’t let him get to you.” Amphitrite said. “Hermes told us everything. Cruel and selfish to taunt your husband that way. Zeus only made that promise so that he could bring Aidoneus to heel. He does that to my husband constantly. Not by promising that our child will become the heir to the heavens, mind you, but he has other ways of needling Poseidon.”

“Thank you. As I said, it’s of nothing, and his words on that matter bear little consequence. Aidoneus and I could be content if it never happens at all.”

Amphitrite was silent a moment, then took Persephone’s hand and squeezed it in hers, and gave her a reassuring smile. “As I said, it’s only been seventy five years. Only the Fates know what the future will bring.”

Hera stared into her cup, her serene smile set in stone.

[setepenre-set]

Pleasant Is the Fairyland  (chapter 8)

Megamind/Roxanne

T rating, Labyrinth AU

The Goblin King Megamind is running out of time–he must take a consort. The King declares he will have no one but Roxanne Ritchi—and so Roxanne finds herself whirled away from her unfulfilling, ordinary life…to the Labyrinth, at the center of which is a secret, the King promises, if she can find it. A secret with the power to save a world, or to condemn it to Nothingness.

AO3  |  FFN

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | 

chapter 5  | chapter 6 | chapter 7

(links disabled so this will show up in the tumblr search tool. I’m going to reblog momentarily with the links; look for it in the notes)

Roxanne and the Goblin King stumbled out of the maze and into a world of sunlight and silver-green leaves.

Roxanne kept her gaze fearfully over her shoulder as they did so, convinced, justas she had been as a child going up the basement staircase, that if she looked away from the shadows for a moment they would surge forward and engulf her, eat her whole with vicious, formless mouths.

Convinced with much more reason than she’d had as a child, for she had no doubt that was exactly what the shadows had been trying to do to her and the Goblin King, just before she’d solved the last riddle.

This time, though, the shadows stayed where they were, cool and unmoving and—seemingly—harmless. Instead, it was the iron doors that moved, slamming closed by themselves with a resounding, ominous boom, like the sound of a church bell in hell.

Slamming closed—and then—

—it was as if the doors turned themselves inside out, like a pillowcase grabbed by an immense invisible and hand pulled through itself so that the seams no longer showed.

The doors

(seams)

disappeared, leaving only more trees where they had once been.

Roxanne made an instinctive noise of revulsion, feeling, as she had very much not felt while watching the Goblin King work his magic beneath the tree, a sense of wrongness, of something horrible lurking just beneath the fabric of reality, just beneath the surface of the world, just out of sight.

The Goblin King made a soft, sighing kind of sound and fainted.

She’d been holding most of his weight already, and he was so very light anyway that it actually took her a moment to realize what had happened. It was not until his head lolled against her shoulder, the large, smooth shape of it falling against the curve of her neck, and she looked down into his face that she saw he was unconscious.

His skin was not merely gray now, but nearly translucent, with the delicate webbing of veins showing through, and his breathing was quick and shallow.

He looked—he looked not just ill, but as if he were dying.

Roxanne lowered him gently to the ground, hand cradling the back of his head protectively as she laid him down on the grass behind the nearest tree.

Shadows fell dark on his skin, deep blue and dappled by the leaves, and something about that, something about the shadows, about the light caught at the corners of her mind, something about the light and the way it had—

She looked up.

—changed.

A moment ago, it had been bright sunshine, but now the light that filtered through the silver-green leaves was painted lavender with a swiftly-falling twilight.

Roxanne’s breath hissed through her teeth, the back of her neck prickling with a disquiet that was very nearly fear.

What was wrong with this place? For surely there was something wrong, really wrong with it, just as there was something really wrong with the Goblin King, something beyond just what hunger and heat exhaustion could account for. She couldn’t even blame the head wound which he had been so quick to dismiss, for he’d been doing badly even before the two of them fell into the hole.

Even as she watched, the lavender light of early twilight was already fading into the bluish light of dusk, filtering through the silver-green leaves, coloring the air blue-green, like water seen from the bottom of a forest pool.

Filtering through the leaves and also through—

Roxanne looked more closely.

Yes, she was right; the bunches of brightly colored things that she’d taken at first for flowers like wisteria were actually grapes—never mind that grapes grew on vines, and not on trees.

The fruits of these grapes were multi-colored, a rainbow on each cluster, each sphere a different shade, red and blue and black and purple and yellow and green like ordinary grapes, but also pure white and gold and silver, true orange and bright teal and clear as water droplets or diamonds.

Roxanne stood on tiptoe and reached up to pull down a cluster.

They lay cool and heavy in her hand, cooler and heavier than grapes ought to be, almost like pieces of polished marble or quartz. The scent of them, of the stem she’d broken pulling them down, was sweet and heady.

She knelt down beside the Goblin King, who still lay with his eyes closed, his breathing worryingly shallow. The unnatural pallor of his skin made the hollows beneath his sharp cheekbones look deeper. Roxanne plucked a grape from the cluster, a translucent blue one, and again that sweet, delicious smell filled the air, making her mouth water.

She began to bring the grape to the Goblin King’s mouth—and then she stopped.

He’d said that the food here wasn’t enchanted to force her to stay, but he hadn’t promised that it was all safe, hadn’t promised that some of it wasn’t enchanted in different ways, or simply, mundanely poisonous.

Roxanne hesitated for a moment, hand still outstretched, watching the Goblin King breathe too shallowly, and then she brought the grape up to her own mouth and popped it in.

As her teeth broke the skin of it, the grape seemed to explode with sweetness in her mouth, juice cold and pure and sweet, so sweet, like champagne tasted in a dream. The desire to cram the rest of the bunch into her mouth was nearly overwhelming, but Roxanne held back, carefully chewing the single grape and then swallowing it.

She waited, the taste of it lingering on her tongue, weighing the risk of slow-working poison or deadly enchantment against the way she could see the Goblin King becoming paler and paler, could see his breath coming shallower and shallower, could see him fading as the twilight faded.

(the dying of the light)

She waited as long as she dared, and then she pulled another grape from the bunch, one of the dewdrop-and-diamond-clear ones.

Roxanne was afraid he’d choke on it if she tried to feed him the whole grape like this while he was unconscious, so, instead, she pulled his head into her lap and parted his lips with the fingers of one hand. She held the grape between thumb and forefinger of her other hand and squeezed until she broke the skin of the grape, then let the juice drip into his mouth.

The Goblin King awoke with a sweet taste in his mouth and his head in Roxanne’s lap.

...to be continued.

Happy Valentine’s Day! (...slightly belated) I hope you enjoyed the chapter update, and also day three of my birthday week celebrations! 

[ohhhmyloki]

Dirty Thoughts: Chapter 11

This is the FINAL CHAPTER of Dirty Thoughts!!

Readers beware: this chapter contains Infinity War spoilers (kind of).

Loki x OC

Genre: romance, smut, fluff (Maybe more? Not sure where this one is going yet)

Takes place post-Ragnarok. The Asgardians are living on Earth. Loki lives at the Avengers compound (Stark Tower), under constant surveillance. The Avengers have agreed to let him on the team pending a trial period. They’ve hired a telepath to keep tabs on him and make sure his intentions are good.

CHAPTER 1   CHAPTER 2   CHAPTER 3   CHAPTER 4   CHAPTER 5     CHAPTER 6   CHAPTER 7   CHAPTER 8   CHAPTER 9   CHAPTER 10   MASTER LIST

11.

It was still strange to walk freely through Stark’s compound, even with Thor at his elbow.

Stark had never reneged on Loki’s initial release--his ‘graduation’ from threat watch. All of the metal man’s underlings had been informed. There were no more suspicious gazes, no more humans in black uniforms watching his every move. There were still a few fearful glances, but that had never bothered him.

Even better, the Asgardians we actually happy for his return. They’d given him his own chambers, furnished and decorated them in lavish Asgardian style. They hadn’t forgotten what he’d done for them during Ragnarok. And he liked to think that even though he’d posed as Odin, they’d been happy under his rule.

The compound was barely large enough to contain the remaining Asgardian population, but the buildings were comfortable and well-equipped, especially since many of Asgard’s artisans and craftsmen had survived and begun making the place their home. The halls of New Asgard were already decorated with tapestries and paintings, each room filled with traditional Asgardian furnishings.

“Loki,” Thor stopped him just outside the door to his chambers. “I owe you an apology, Brother.”

Well, that was...unexpected.

Loki turned to him, “Do you, really?” he asked with interest.

“Do not mock me, now, Loki. I’m serious.”

He looked serious; handsome face grave.

“Alright then,” Loki relented. “Go on.”

“I never asked what fate you suffered after you fell into that wormhole. Nor why you came back to conquer Earth. I just assumed...” he sighed sharply. “It was arrogant of me to think you did it simply out of spite.”

“Incredibly arrogant, yes,” Loki interjected, earning himself a one-eyed glare.

“I’m sorry I’ve misjudged you,” Thor said stiffly. “Though I do wish you’d been more honest all this time. I could have helped you, Brother.”

Loki mustered his trademark smirk. “You know me better than that.”

Thor shook his head. “I’m not sure I do anymore. I thought I did, but...well, I’m beginning to see there’s a great deal about you that perhaps I’ve misunderstood.”

He actually looked ashamed.

Loki felt a curious sensation in his chest. “Thor--” he began.

“No, let me finish,” Thor held up his hand. “I know we’ve had our differences, and I’ve thought very little of you at times, but you are my brother, Loki, in spite of everything. You’re all I have left.” His one blue eye was full of emotion. “I’m happy to have you fighting at my side again, Brother. More than I can possibly say.”

Loki found himself mute, swallowing against the tightness in his throat. He reached out to clasp Thor’s shoulder in lieu of actual speech. Thor yanked him into a fierce, spine-cracking hug and then released him a moment later, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Well, I’m glad we could have this little...talk,” Thor said gruffly. “You best get back to your--” he gestured at the door, “--Bella.”

“Right,” Loki said faintly. My Bella. “Sleep well then, Brother.”

“And you, Brother.”

Thor turned to continue down the hall and Loki opened the door to his chambers, pausing as Thor’s voice echoed back to him, tongue-in-cheek: “Be good to her, Loki. Else I might steal her away from you.”

“Just try it,” Loki growled and then shut the door on Thor’s cocky laughter.

He turned, hackles up, cursing under his breath. Bloody musclebound idiot.

The room was cool and dim, soft light emanating from a carved stone lamp in the far corner, casting shadows across the thick fur rugs and the big wooden canopy bed with its luxurious green draperies and silky golden blankets.

Bella was nothing more than a small bump in the center of the enormous mattress--the top of her dark head just visible amongst the pillows.

Someone had brought her tea--it sat on a fine silver tray beside the bed, the silver cup half-empty. He wondered if the servants had been kind to her. If they’d drawn her a bath, offered to undress her.

No doubt she’d have declined such a service anyway. But he wanted to know that she’d been treated with respect. She was consort to a prince, after all.

Well, plenty of time to make sure of that tomorrow. For now, he’d asked that they not be disturbed until morning. He wanted her to all himself tonight.

Who knew how many more such nights he would have before they were at war.

He stripped quietly, laying his clothes across the back of the silk-upholstered chaise so they could be laundered in the morning. Then he padded naked to the bed and slipped between the covers, burrowing until he came against soft, warm woman.

Sweet Allmother, she was completely naked. 

Already hard, he curled himself around her, chest to her back, tucking his cock against her silky little bottom.

She stirred when he put his arms around her and he drew his hand slowly up the front of her body to touch her breasts, stroking one and then the other, cupping them firmly, soft flesh welling around his fingers.

“Loki,” she mumbled, still half-asleep, stretching languorously against him.

She twisted as though to face him but he held her in place with one hand on her lower belly, fingers slipping between her legs as he leaned over to kiss her mouth.

Wet. She was already wet. Had she lain here thinking of him before she’s fallen asleep?

Loki growled softly at the thought--at the slick heat under his fingers--dipping his tongue into her mouth and angling her hips back as he kissed her and stroked the velvet lips of her sex.

A moment later he was inside her, sheathed to the hilt. Her breath caught on a gasp, slick flesh rippling around his cock. Her hand found his hip, slid down to the top of his thigh, gripping the muscle there.

“Good girl,” he murmured into her mouth, thrusting slowly. “Nice and easy.”  

The tip of his cock bumped her cervix and she moaned softly.

“Does that hurt?” he murmured, withdrawing almost completely, watching her head roll back to the pillow, mouth open on a gasp.

“No,” she breathed. “More. Please.”

Loki gripped her hip and thrust again, harder this time, driving deep, making her writhe.

“Still more?” he asked. Her sex seemed to throb around him.

“Yes,” she whispered, nails digging into his thigh.

He rolled her over, belly down, bracing his elbows on either side of her narrow shoulders, arching sharply so that he could thrust and kiss her neck at the same time.

She whimpered and clenched, growing wetter.

“You like it this way,” he growled, nudging her legs apart and pressing her into the mattress. Biting her shoulder gently. “So deep,” he whispered, rocking her, pestering her cervix with short, rhythmic thrusts, groaning when she tightened. “You’re practically sucking me, Bella.”

The sound she made damned near undid him--soft, animal keening.

“Tell me what you want,” he hissed, thrusting again.

“More,” she whimpered, breathless. “Ride me, Loki.”

Sweet Mother of--that did it. He thrust hard, withdrew completely and buried himself straight to the hilt. And then again, pausing to look down at his cock bobbing stiffly above her ass, lifting himself to watch the rigid length disappear inside, pink lips closing around the broad base.

And then he settled into a hard, pumping rhythm, watching her little body jolt with each thrust, listening to her ragged sobs of pleasure.

“Are you close, Bella?” he panted, “You’re soaking wet. Gods, it’s so good, love.”

She made a sound that might have been a confirmation, writhing helplessly beneath him.

He was already right on the edge himself, thrusting faster, losing his rhythm. “Come for me, Bella,” he growled. “Now!”

Bella gasped, bucking against his thrusts. Turning her head to bite the corner of the pillow closest to her face, screaming raggedly through her teeth, sex fisting tightly around his cock as she came.

“Yes,” he hissed, pumping fast and hard, “Yes! Coming, Bella! Gods!”

The pleasure wracked him, burned along his cock in molten spurts, bowing his spine and tearing rough, animal cries from his throat. Her little sex flooded with his seed and he kept thrusting into his own wetness as the pleasure unfurled, every nerve ending lit and sparkling.

“Do you feel that?” he groaned, head of his cock slipping wetly against her cervix now, each thrust producing a soft squelch. “I’m still coming.” He jerked inside her once more, and then again, pumping deeply, spine tingling.

Just as the orgasm ebbed she whimpered softly and tensed beneath him.

“Again?” he rasped, as her sex began to ripple and spasm. He rode it out with her, angling his thrusts to give her maximum stimulation, gritting his teeth through the intensity of it. She moaned raggedly and pushed back against him, shuddering, sobbing.

And when she went limp he used the last of his own strength to roll her back over and tuck her into his heaving chest, folding both arms around her.

It was a long time before his breath and heart began to settle. After a while, Bella lifted her arm and curled it over his side, squirming closer. He stroked her hip as she settled and realized she must be cold by now; reached down and drew the blankets up around her shoulders. She sighed contentedly.

“Oh.” Her little exclamation was muffled against his chest.

“What?” He looked down.

She was reaching under the blanket, hand between her legs.

“I’m leaking,” she said softly, with just a hint of embarrassment. “The sheets will get dirty.”

“Sheets can be washed,” he said, amused by her concern for the bedding. But he conjured a handkerchief and she took it gratefully, tucking it between her legs.

“What other random stuff can you pull out of thin air?” she asked.

Loki produced a knife.

“Ooh, that’s handy.”

He smiled and sent the knife back into its hiding place, then conjured a cell phone.

“You have a cell phone?!” She plucked it out of his hand and pressed a few buttons. “The battery’s dead.”

“Stark gave it to me, but I find it rather unnecessary.”

“Well, now that you have your freedom, you might want to rethink that.”

“Oh?”

She looked up at him. “Do you know how to use it?”

“It’s rather a primitive piece of technology.”

“Oh, right. Well, we can talk when we’re not together with this. And text.” She turned the little black device over in her hands thoughtfully, then looked up at him. “I’d like to.”

“Mm. I suppose that would be useful.” He pushed her hair back from her face, running his fingers through it slowly. “Though I’m not planning to be separated from you anytime soon.”

That seemed to surprise her. “Really?”

“Mm.” He took one of her hands and drew it under the covers by way of explanation.

“Oh!” Her fingers curled around him. “You’re hard again.”

“I am.”

She stroked him absently. “You haven’t really thought about the possibilities, clearly.”

“Possibilities?” he repeated as her fingers slipped through the moisture beading at the tip of his cock.

“Yeah. With the cell phone.”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” he said, watching her breasts press together as her arm moved between their bodies.

She chuckled. “Charge it up and take it with you next time you leave. I’ll give you a demonstration.”

“I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’ll have to eventually,” she murmured, “And I’ll have to go home at some point.”

Loki reached down to touch her hand, guiding her fingers along his shaft, down and then up again, squeezing gently. “I disagree.”

“You disagree?” She laughed. “I have a life, Loki. I can’t just lounge around here letting you ravish me all day. Especially considering the whole...impending alien war thing.”

Loki stilled. “There’s no reason you can’t stay here,” he insisted. “Stark will give you another job. Besides, you’ll be safest here when Thanos arrives.”

Bella tilted her head back to look at him, brown eyes limpid. “Earlier today you seemed pretty sure that no place was safe from Thanos.”

He scowled. “Would you rather be alone in your little house when he arrives?”

Her expression didn’t falter. She was reading him like a damned book, he realized. He’d let his guard down.

“We’ve only been together for a day, Loki. You really want me to move in?”

Yes, dammit. He wanted her here, close. Safe. Warming his bed every night.

Her fingers tightened on his cock and she started stroking him again in that same leisurely fashion. “What about Sebastian?”

“Your cat can stay, too.”

“What if we drive you crazy?”

He laughed. “I lived with Thor for over a thousand years.”

“Yeah, but Thor doesn’t need to be kissed and cuddled every day, and told that he looks pretty.”

“Well, not by me, he doesn’t.”

She giggled.

“There are other rooms if you’d prefer to have your own,” he offered.

She wiggled closer and held his cock against her belly, stroking him like that. “What will your people think about me living here?”

Loki flexed into her, rocking gently. Her belly was warm and deliciously smooth. “They’ll adore you.”

“What makes you so sure?” she asked skeptically.

“Because I adore you.”

Her hand paused. She looked up at him.

“Does that surprise you?” he asked, amused.

Her hand started moving again, “It surprises me that you’d say it out loud.”

“I adore you,” he repeated, watching her face this time.

She flushed a little. Cute.

“Please stay here with me.”

She rolled her eyes, but the blush persisted. “Fine. I’ll go home and get my cat tomorrow.”

“I’ve already arranged for someone to pick up your things in the morning.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You--!” she let go of his cock and slapped his chest loudly. “You arrogant son of a bitch!”

“Bella,” he interrupted.

She drew her hand back to slap him again and he grabbed her wrist.

“I would not have been so proprietary if the circumstances were different.”

“What if I had said no?” she demanded.

“You didn't say no, Bella. I knew you wouldn’t.”

Her mouth compressed. “You are unbelievable.”

“It’s your choice to stay. I haven't forced you.”

She frowned at his chest.

Loki decided to take a page from her book: total honesty. She deserved that.

“We may not have much time together,” he murmured. “Even without the threat of Thanos.”

Brown eyes lifted to his face. “What does that mean?”

“I mean,” he gritted his teeth a little, hating the truth, “I’m the God of Lies. We’re different species. It can hardly be expected to last between us.”

There was a pause and then she said quietly, “I’m not prepared to make any  projections at this early point in our relationship.”

“I will live to be over five thousand years old,” he said stubbornly.

Her answer stunned him.

“Well then, it should be no great sacrifice to give me the next sixty years or so.”

Loki pulled back to look at her. “Do you actually mean that?”

Her gaze slid away. “I’m not proposing marriage, if that's what you're asking.”

He just lay there, speechless, heart beating loudly.

“I’m also not saying I’m in love with you, because that would be patently idiotic after only one day--”

By the Gods, was she…?

“--but I’m also not going to say I’m not, or at least that I won’t be at some point, or more specifically that I couldn't be, provided things continue as they have been--”

“How long?” Loki interrupted.

“What?” Her sweet little face turned up to him, eyes wide.

“How long until you can say it?”

She sort of froze then, mouth half open, stunned.

“Next year?” he demanded. “If Thanos doesn’t kill us?”

She licked her lips and took a breath, but no words came.

“Next month?” he asked, more softly.

She shook her head. “Loki…”

“How about tomorrow?”

Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth and she worried it furiously.

“Tomorrow is excellent for me,” he murmured. “I can’t think of a better time to receive an honest profession of love.”

“This is not fair,” she mumbled.

“You think not?” he pulled her closer, still hard, tucking his erection into the hollow of her hip. “You know what I feel all the time.”

“Are you talking about your cock? Because an erection is not a clear indication of romantic feeling.”

He laughed. “You know damn well I’m not.”

“Yesterday your feelings for me were very conflicted.”

“And just a minute ago I told you I adore you. Twice. A lot can change in a day.”

It was true, he realized. She’d stood by him today, defended him. Not that he needed her to defend him--or anyone for that matter. But her trust meant a great deal. The fact that she paid attention, read between the lines. Saw in him what even his own brother couldn’t see…

He wanted her love, now that he realized he could have it.

Bella gave a deep, martyred sigh.

He fought not to smile. “Thanos and his armies could arrive at any moment, Bella. If you wait too long, you may not get the chance to tell me at all.”

She made a low sound of derision. “I hope you don't think its funny to use that against me. Every time you say his name I feel like I’m going to vomit.”

Humor faltering, he stroked her hair, drew her tight against his chest. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

Some of the tension left her. She sighed again, warm breath tickling his throat. “It sort of freaks me out when you're so nice.”

“Nice?” No one had ever called him that before.

“Yeah,” she said, muffled. “You apologized. And you said you like me. And you’re cuddling me in the best possible way.”

“I said I adore you. And this is not cuddling,” he returned with exaggerated disdain. “This is a form of seduction. Foreplay, if you will.” To prove his point, he flexed his erection against her.

“Hmm. Well, it’s working.” Her hand slipped between them and started stroking him again.

Gratified, he lay quietly for a few minutes, focusing on the pleasure of her touch.

Finally, he said, “If you keep doing that, the sheets really will get dirty,”

To his surprise, she ducked her head and wiggled down under the blankets.

“What are you--ah!”

She was sucking him, mouth hot and wet, taking him deep, small hand pumping at his base.

“Bella,” he growled, fighting the desire to thrust, “Slow down.”

She made a little sound of denial and the vibration of it against his cock was exquisite.

“You have about thirty seconds before I come if you keep that up,” he warned, hearing the strain in his own voice.

This time the sound she made was one of approval.

The little minx wanted to drink him.

He flipped the blankets back and looked down at her. There was something terribly erotic about the sight of it--her naked shoulders and the curve of her back. Pink lips stretched around him, long lashes fanned against her cheeks. She sucked him like she found the taste and texture of his cock delicious, hot little tongue swirling over the head, tickling his opening, making him groan.

He touched her hair, thrusting a little despite himself, fingers slipping down to cup her nape.

She pulled back then and his cock popped out of her mouth as she looked up.

“Hold me,” she murmured.

Voice airy and rough he said, “I am holding you.”

Her fingers were still working him, keeping him wound tight with pleasure.

“Fuck my mouth,” she whispered, flushing.

All the remaining blood in his body seemed to rush downward, swelling in her hands.

“Alright,” he replied gruffly.

And then he pulled her head back into place and pushed into her mouth, bringing his other hand down to hold her steady, both hands tangled in her hair.

When he began to thrust--slow and careful--she groaned around him and squeezed his shaft, sucking hard. Egging him on.

“Bella,” he groaned. “Bloody hell.” He thrust harder and she opened up to him, throat working. Tongue writhing.

“Coming,” he hissed, watching her meet each thrust with incredible eagerness, head of his cock nudging her tonsils. Listening to the wet sounds and her little whimpers of encouragement.

“Bella, Gods, yes! Suck me,” he growled, orgasm pouring out into the back of her throat, watching her swallow his pleasure as though it were pure ambrosia.

She held on tight while his cock jerked in her mouth, swallowing and swallowing, pressing herself against his legs. And when he let her go she suckled him a little longer, very gently, and he watched in a haze of satisfaction, stroking her silky hair all the while.

She seemed content to keep going, rolling his softening flesh in her mouth, but he pulled her up to his chest again and kissed her soundly, tasting himself on her tongue.

“That was divine,” he murmured.

“You're welcome.”

Loki smiled. “I'll be happy to return the favor.”

“That’s okay,” she murmured, settling into his body. “I’m really tired.” And then she proved it by yawning hugely.

“I forget sometimes that you’re human,” he replied apologetically, stroking her back. “I’m running you ragged.”

“Mmm. I like it,” she mumbled drowsily. “I like this new nice Loki, too.”

He chuckled. “It is generally advisable to be nice to one's girlfriend, is it not?”

“Only if one wishes to keep her.”

“Well,” he began mildly, “I’m not saying I’m in love with you--”

She stiffened in his arms.

“But I’m also not saying I’m not. Or that I won't be, at some point. Because I certainly could be, provided things continue as they have. So… I suppose that means I do want to keep you.”

After a moment--during which Loki’s heart fluttered traitorously--she said, “Is that supposed to be funny?”

He wanted to make light of it--because that would be easier--but her tone demanded honesty, so he made himself say simply, “No.”

“Because it seemed like maybe you were mocking me.” She sounded angry. A little hurt.

“Must I constantly remind you that you are a telepath?” he countered, irritated.

“Said the God of Lies.”

He sighed. “What possible reason could I have to lie to you now?”

To prove his point, he opened his mind to her.

She lay very still for the space of a few heartbeats, listening. Reading him. And then she pressed her face into his chest and gave a sharp, shuddering sigh of surrender.

“Oh dear. Are you crying?” he asked, amused, trying to get a look at her face. She held onto him stubbornly.

Her answer was quite muffled, but it sounded very much like, Absolutely not.

“Excellent, because that would be terribly awkward for me.”

She giggled wetly.

Loki tucked the blanket around her and settled into the mattress with a deep sense of satisfaction. It was tempered with dread of course, but he shoved away the creeping sense of doom.

Just this one night, he thought. Just this one moment of peace. That’s not too much to ask, is it?

“Loki…”

“Mm?”

She shifted against him, soft fingers tracing his spine, warm lips tickling his collarbone.

When she spoke, the words were low and laden with feeling--burdened with a sort of unexpected finality that made little sense to him.

Like the period at the end of a sentence he’d expected to go on forever.

“You deserve to be happy, you know.”

END

To my lovely readers,

I know it’s kind of mean to end the story here, but I’ve already done one Infinity War fix (for Loki) and I’m not really keen to write another version of that. I do have an idea for a new fic, though--one that takes place just after TDW and won't involve Thanos or infinity stones or even the Avengers. It’ll be a stranded-in-the-wilderness-survival type thing. 

I also have a sexy one-shot coming soon, so let me know if you wanna be tagged for either.

Thanks for all your like/reblogs and especially comments!! Sometimes you guys really make my day!! :)

@the-madness-of-my-name @alexakeyloveloki @carydorse @starscreamloki @cuteandnerdythings @fairlightswiftly @youveseen--thebutcher @onlysortofdepressed @unseelie1963 @anakinsone @michellearel1 @sociopath2000 @chatoyant-mirrors @lokis-queen05 @beanie-girl580 @dangerousbluetragedy @queen-of-arda @curlyhair-in-japan @welcomingpayne @bllaackkgliiitterrr @ultramagicaltacofandom @immoralquandary @widowling @wickedscorpio22 @vanessaaaasdfghjkl @babyfrick @instantnoodlese @irondadandspidersoncute @libellums @mcu-lokihotstuff @kayleighfreeman @mysticalobservationlady @kvidaore @everythingg-loki @loki-thor-odinson @thefaceofroyalty @ihavenofilter  @harleykittykat  @magnificentme513 @rockinren66 @lokis-sunshine @queerloser17 @the1weliveinnow @sigyn-loki-is-my-heart @dark-night-sky-99 @lusty-loki @the-goddess-of-mischief @starscreamloki @harleykittykat @ravenleaf

[akelyokikagu]

White Peony Court - 01

The White Peony Court

Princess Kagura had everything she wanted— wisdom, power and the most sublime things of the world. The war ended two years ago with the death of her father and the rise of her brother, Kamui. He even granted her ridiculous request for a harem and she had just snatched a young official from Kamui: Okita Sougo. Lot of smut, Kaguoki and includes a male!Nobume.

Chapter One: The Princess

As far as Kagura was concerned she was of imperial blood. Their father, Umibozu, had died two years ago in a battle against other Amantos and through his death, a clear-cut border was also drawn between the scattered tribes and their kingdom.

The world under heaven, after a long period of division, tends to unite; after a long period of union, tends to divide. (1)

Those words had never been truer in their era, for their country had reunified once again and all enemies brought to submission. Umibozu shall be remembered as a legendary emperor who died for the greater good, and her brother Kamui seen as a young war hero who not only led his troupe well but also announced a new era of peace.

The people needed such calm after a terrible war of five years against all kind of tribes living at their borders, each one greedier than the other. The endless conflicts led to a general coalition against the greater nation, the tribes pooled all of their strength in one force and it wasn't easily that Kouan defended its territory. The mountains, especially, proved to be a major difficulty to protect and Kamui exceeded the expectations with his own army— the Harusame— by defeating every single opponent who dared to take cross their path.

Kamui became the Emperor at the death of their father and as for herself, Kagura stayed as a princess for she decided not to marry yet. With the rise of her brother, suitors multiplied and huddled the palace. They were sons of generals, of powerful officials, of rich merchants. Like every princess in Kouan, Kagura's quarter was built far from the politics and thus from the emperor's quarter as well as the officials' buildings yet they managed to catch glimpses of her, trying to court her.

Gifts, poems, meaningful glances... She was the most wanted daughter-in-law of the land, and further. Musicians sang her beauty across kingdoms, her beautiful eyes coloured by the Heaven (2) itself, her striking red hair and white skin like jade. Kagura breathed of the imperial family's characteristic elegance and charisma, men threw themselves at her feet. They all had an interest in a way: the conquest of a famous beauty, of political power or both for the most ambitious whereas she had none for them.

At nineteen, the prized princess was still unmarried and while it wasn't unheard of, one could wonder why didn't she seize the opportunity of her youth and fame to catch a good husband before she could be rivalled if not surpassed. The answer to her reluctance to marry could be found in her education; unlike her ancestors, Kagura made her way in men studies. She had no taste in sitting for hours to stare at parchments but she loved dearly her brother Kamui and refused to be separated from him when he was of age to learn about history, languages and everything an imperial heir had to be knowledgeable of. She followed him, exasperating and amusing at the same time Kamui's teachers.

During the war they couldn't have been prouder, she proved her use by attending the countless meetings and planned schemes for Kouan. Even if she didn't participate in the battlefield, Kagura gained the praises of historians and her people.

When the palace held banquets every day for a whole week, celebrating the end of the war and the victory, Kagura was only joking when said those words:

"Kamui, we may be from different genders but both of us were helped by the Heaven as heirs to our Father. Since you got a harem (3)," she looked at all the beauties gathered around her brother, "Shouldn't I get one too?"

Her brother had always been someone she was close with, and also knew her bore of all those men throwing empty words at her, accepted. A princess having a harem— it was unheard of. Many contested, a princess was to be virtuous so how could they grant her wish for a harem? What would be the use of a harem anyway, for a woman who could only become pregnant with one man at a time?

Kamui silenced them all. He was the emperor, the Greatest thus his words indisputable. He decided to scurry portraits and rumours, brought the thirty most handsome men in the kingdom for his sister. All of them not only possessed beauty but were as talented as any of his consorts would be expected to, his sister had a mind greater than most men and naturally, those who entertain her should be as great as her.

In two years, Kagura's harem built its stability and operation. At its top, stood three men out of the thirty who managed to catch her deepest affections in a way or another.

The first, Imai Nobuhito was a human who had been captured during the war and offered to Kagura. He was a silent but a strong man and could rival a Yato with technical expertise in swordsmanship and despite his background, Nobuhito became very loyal to Kagura to the point of becoming her current favourite.

The second was Shimura Shinpachi, a Yato considered as defective for he was born without any strength. To prove his worth, the young man had worked harder than anyone else and was a genius adviser with an interest in human swords. Nonetheless, his relationship with princess Kagura was known to be purely one of a friendship, though a very strong one. He was both her adviser and confidant.

The third man was once known as the first, he was named Hisashi Hongo. His youthful look, brightness and amiable personality immediately echoed with Kagura's. He was once a great warrior like all men from his family; however, following a severe injury Hisashi's body had become weak and instead he pushed his passion into music and poems. Kagura cherished him dearly and didn't dare to endanger his health further with physical activities thus their relationship became platonic and disregarded by the other men.

Soon, the men serving in Kagura's harem were called "Mianshou (4)".

Nobuhito accompanied Kagura in the front line before the others Mianshou, clad in deep blue silk with scarlet birds embroidered on his dress. He was dashing as always, his long hair tied in a ponytail as he confidently walked beside the princess with a sword at his hips.

The emperor's edict was announced just yesterday, Kagura was to attend the selection of the new officials at the palace with the help of Shimura Shinpachi and Nobuhito as her personal guard. While only the two of them were invited, the other Mianshou, of course, decided to demonstrate their loyalty by accompanying the princess, vying for her attention.

Today again, her presentation was irreproachable. Her favourite maids, Tsukkuyo and Tae Shimura had done a magnificent job at applying her makeup. The powder they set was sheer, Kagura's skin was still peerless, and her lips tinted with a shade of jujube (5) that complimented the light pink dress she wore.

"I want to walk in the garden afterwards," Kagura voiced her desire to Nobuhito. "It's a beautiful day, tell Sen to prepare my favourite tea and cakes, Nobu."

"As you wish," Nobuhito bowed slightly. The Mianshou behind cursed him, their eyes full of envy as the princess leant to his ears, whispering her commands. In their world, the closest to the princess was not only blessed with her favour but their family would be gifted with money and power. Everyone knew how keen the emperor's ears was to her words. A few whispers and their family could become one of the most honoured in the country and them, bathed in luxuries.

They walked past the White Peony Courtyard, Kagura's residence, admiring the palace. The buildings were all richly ornated, painted with red and imperial purple flags were scattered like the cherry blossoms, as they were in the wake of Spring. The Mianshous rarely wandered out of their court and left it only for important events if they were deemed to be interesting enough by the princess. As they eased closer to the main building, officials in blue and green dresses huddled with parchments while the younger, clad in black, were waiting in line to be called by the emperor for their examination. The emperor Kamui had to build his own rule, every year he would throw officials out and select new ones who suited him better. He refused to be the shadow of his father, nor did he want to be manipulated by his oldest acquaintances.

"Is that Princess Kagura?" The men asked each other, surprised by the appearance of a woman at this time of the year, in the emperor's court nonetheless. If there was to be one female able to do this, it would be the famous princess.

"Obviously, look at her hair."

"She's even more beautiful in reality than in paintings."

"Look at that, her Mianshous... I wonder if it's a good thing for this kind of woman to advise the Emperor." Shinpachi was immediately irritated at their words, but Kagura only steeled her smile.

"Don't embarrass me in front of my brother," she said to him. The way she would pull her purple fan from her sleeve, deploying it to hide half of her face was full of poise. Kagura's eyes smiled in her stead at the young officials, startling them all.

As she bypassed them, the other Mianshous left— with the words of Nobuhito— while the trio continued their way. The room of the emperor was as expected: grandiose. Golden tapestry, expensive wood, famous paintings and sculptures created the regal atmosphere. At its centre was a large carpet with a Phoenix, and higher, beyond the steps, was a large painting of a dragon behind the emperor.

Kagura, Nobuhito and Shinpachi walked to the centre of the room. While both Mianshou had to kneel in front of the emperor, their forehead touching the carpet, Kagura only had another kind of greeting. Her legs bowed slightly, she kept her back straight and overlaid her palms so they'd touch each other— her elbows at a straight angle. Her face gently moved towards the floor, showing the respect due to the emperor.

"The princess greets the emperor," she said.

"These mianshou greet the great emperor," Nobuhito and Shinpachi followed. At the top of the room, superelevated was Kamui on his throne, made of a lavish pillow and a dark wood table in front of him. However, the gigantic purple dragons that danced and laced themselves painted behind him imposed a strong aura. He himself was clad in his official outfit, all in purple (6) and gold with a heavy crown on his head, his red locks falling out from it.

He greeted Kagura with a delighted smile, "The princess and her Mianshou can rise."

They did so, guided by Kagura who trotted to a sit just below her brother. Of course, as only men of a harem, Shinpachi and Nobuhito were sat even further down.

"The selection can start," Kamui announced in a loud voice as a man in the room nodded and rang the gong.

First, ten men entered the room and kneeled. After the formal greeting was done, they introduced themselves but strangely Kagura didn't pay any attention. Usually, she'd remember their family names, where they came from or if their faces or names were familiar to her. Instead, she was introduced to a pair of red eyes.

An official rose up, bowed and announced: "Official Abuto presents to the great emperor the ten men with the highest score on the Imperial Exam." Okita Sougo— she buried the name deep in her mind. He was ranked third in the Imperial Exam, and while the first two were from an old and important family, his sounded completely unknown. And her suspicions were confirmed when he announced being from the countryside.

For a poor country boy to rank so high in the exam, Kagura was undoubtedly surprised. He looked just four or three years younger than her, and his eyes had a kind of magnetism she couldn't deny nor explain.

But one thing; however, she was sure of was that she wanted him in her harem.

1. Quote from the start of The Romance of Three Kingdoms, one of the four legendary books in China. It's a romanced story of the three kingdoms era, and their wars— for that reason, it's also a very strategical book that is recommended to read.   2. The Heaven was situated in the sky, which is why astrology is taken very seriously in China or Asia in general, as stars and such are "signs from the Heaven" and thus, of the Gods'.  3. An emperor, in China, possessed a rather spectacular harem that could be amounted to a thousand or way more. Of course, most were low-ranked and were only servants to the high-ranked one, the hierarchy was very strict. The emperor had a harem to show his power, but also to give him as many heirs as possible and there existed a schedule based on the Moon's cycle (believed to influence fertility) depending on each women's ranks.  4. Mianshou 面首, literally means "prime faces".   5. A red fruit, called the chinese date. It's sweet, and often used in chinese deserts!   6. Purple dye was very expensive, and increased the value of purple clothing thus it became the colour of the imperial family along with gold. This story is based on real chinese princess called Liu Chuyu, aka Princess Shanyi. 

[ao3-hipster-fangirl-trash]

For Pity lV

Chapter 1 l Chapter 2 l Chapter 3 l Chapter 4 l Chapter 5 l Chapter 6 l Chapter 7

Overall Summary: Sigyn, queen of Vanaheim, is gifted a consort by the Allfather of Asgard, unknown to her, said consort happens to be his adopted son; Loki, and the only reason he was ‘gifted’ was that he should be someone elses problem.

Chapter Summary: Loki wakes up in a foreign bed, in a foreign palace, in a foreign realm with nothing but a pair of trousers on and a sever sense of confusion.

warnings: crying?

word count: 2482

notes: as always inspired by @nanihoosartblog and her consort AU, go and check it out!

Loki awoke with an incredible headache which seemed determined to split his skull, throbbing and everlasting. He wasn’t sure where he was, realm or room for that matter, but for some reason he felt more at ease than usual and somewhat less cold, which given his biology was extremely rare especially due to the recent starvation which he had suffered. He tried to shift slightly only to find that there was some sort of weight rested upon him, not in an imposing manner, but still noticeable. Loki opened his eyes and was greeted by an array of green and blue cloths interweaving above his head creating a sort of canopy. Little spots had been neglected however, and small pricks of light came through, creating the illusion of stars above his head.

Loki felt his mouth twitch upwards slightly, enjoying simply looking at the canopy above his head. He sighed and turned to the side, being greeted by more green and blue material, shielding him from whatever lay behind it. He tried sitting up only to feel a tugging in his abdomen.

Shuffling above the sheets, he saw a scar stretching from just below his trouser line to his ribs which seemed to have been burnt in order to seal it. Perhaps that was what the infernal pain was from yesterday. He couldn’t quite remember what happened, just pain, then waking and ending up in a corner. He had hidden himself and the healer had left him alone till two women came in and one of them had talked to him-

Wait, she had seen him.

Whilst he was in an illusion, hiding himself from the outside world she had looked at him as clearly as if he had not been disguised. He knew that the spell had worked, the healer and other woman were shocked when he had revealed himself, and yet, that woman.

The woman who has sat on the throne above him, draped in gold and teal, who had thrown off his mouthguard and commanded that he should be instantly seen to, who had looked upon Odin in pure disgust, who had somehow managed to completely calm him to a sleep, a queen, holding someone who would have been seen as a rat. He had told her his name and yet here he was, in a bed rather than back in the dungeons of Asgard.

A door opened to his left, unseen due to the curtains which surrounded the bed. Two sets of footsteps were distinguishable, one with heeled shoes and one soft, padding pair, possibly with leather boots, the soft footsteps first then heels followed.

“Should I wake him my lady?” This voice was foreign to him, one that he barely recognised but not enough to put a face to.

“No Amora, leave him to rest,” That voice he recognised. It was the one who had convinced him from the corner, sweet to him and others, but still capable of venom as he had heard within Odin’s presence, “He’s been through enough.”

He heard shuffling of the leather on wooden floors, walking towards where he lay, prompting him to close his eyes and imitate sleep. He felt a breeze as the curtains opened just barely enough to let a small sliver of light in, and yet there was still a shadow, possibly one of the two women.

He heard a gentle sigh where the shadow was, before the curtains were closed once more, leaving him in privacy and almost complete darkness.  He could tell the one with the leather boots was pacing because he heard gentle, rhythmic pats along the floor, going from one side of the end of the bed to another.

“What if he doesn’t wake up? Or if he has a nightmare? Or if he reacts violently?” The worry in her voice was evident, seeping into every word almost like a virus.

Loki felt somewhat touched that a complete stranger was currently pacing around a room, worried about his wellbeing. Considering it was something not even Odin did, even before Loki tried to invade Midgard, it was odd to hear someone he had barely met somewhat fearful for his wellbeing.

“My lady, should any of that happen I am sure you are more than capable to deal with it.” The other voice, Loki assumed was Amora, piped up from where she was stationary placed in the right corner of the room.

The queen hummed in response, clearly not satisfied with what Amora said and finding herself even more stressed than she was before. She felt herself flop into the chair beside Amora and bury her face in hands. She understood why she was so stressed, a side effect of being an empath was that, after the touch had ended, she could feel what the person she had effected felt before she had touched them. When she had let Loki go, she had felt immense pain rage through her abdomen to her ribs, as well as an all consuming fear which physically prohibited her from doing anything for about 2 hours. Of course, it clearly wasn’t effecting her as much as it had effected Loki, who had slept well through two days, always in the same position every time she would check on him. She had started getting worried in the dawn of the second day when she came from the guest chambers she had been occupying back to her chambers to still see Loki fast asleep, and yet there was nothing she could do, so she simply let him sleep.

“What if-“

“My lady, he is fine I assure you, and either way worrying about his wellbeing won’t make him any better.”

Sigyn huffed in response, as a child would if it had just been told that it couldn’t have another cake or confectionary, or if it were forced to sit through another meeting between adults, or a conversation which they didn’t understand. Still, Sigyn would rather sit through another one of her mothers meetings or conversations that deal with the crushing fear that after everything her guest simply wouldn’t wake up.

Loki, still laying completely still, realised that at some point he would have to give up the pretence of being asleep, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to move, for fear that if he was seen as healthy and awake, he would be forced to leave, and that the queens pity was only shielding him for as long as he was injured.

He tried his hardest to think of some sort of way to slip past the two women unnoticed, and perhaps leave whilst he still had the ability to without chains, however most, no, all options involved cloaking himself, and considering that the queen seemed to be able to see past his spells and illusions, he elected to simply remain in the bed for the time being.

Finally, when the boredom began to set in, Loki decided simply to roll over, rumpling the sheets enough for it to be noticeable yet still not enough to make it seem that he was fully awake yet. He heard a sharp intake of breath and furniture creaking ever so slightly.

Alright, he’d humour them.

Raising his hands above his head, he went to stretch, before feeling the tug of his scar again causing him to hiss.

He shuffled into a sitting position, trying his best not to put any strain on the wound that seemed to still be healing, despite having been somewhat melted together. His head fell back slowly on the material at the back of the bed, pleasantly surprised to find a wall behind it which gave him something to lean on. He inhaled slowly and let out a gentle breath in order to try and calm himself. In reality, his heart was ready to burst through his chest, desperate to find out if he should be allowed to stay or be thrown out as he had been by his adoptive father.

“Hello?” There was that voice again, ringing through the room apprehensively.

Loki sat in the bed, wondering if perhaps he should just say silent and wait for them to leave. He decided against it.

“Hello.” He replied, his voice croaking from the apparent two day sleep he had taken. He heard a sigh of relief from behind the curtain, possibly of the queen, followed by a chuckle which sounded like Amora.

He heard her boots shuffle from where she appeared to be seated to the end of the bed, slightly drawing the curtains apart before pausing and clearing her throat slightly.

“Is it alright if I…” if he had to imagine her, she was probably awkwardly gesturing at the curtains with her head.

“yes.” She continued to pull open the curtains to reveal the queen.

Considering the previous meetings they had, he hadn’t truly had time to take in her appearance, whilst he did have a sketchy face to the title, he still hadn’t seen her properly.

Her fiery red hair was cascading down her back, somewhat curled and furled in some places, yet held back from her eyes with a flattened wreath of gold leaves which started behind her ears and ended just above her hairline at the top of her forehead. Her eyes were piercing into him, and yet even as he looked right into them, Loki could swear that they were more colourful than the Bifrost bridge that hd brought him here. There were flecks of green, blue, grey and brown scattered through them, catching the light in different ways. Her skin was littered with freckles in such a way that Loki was almost certain that they covered her head to toe, making her appear somewhat wild, and yet the air of royalty that all in positions of power had hung upon her in a way that made her seem so tame. The gown she was wearing was the shade of a deep sea before a storm, yet the light material allowed the peach colour from her under robe to seep through and make the material seem almost green. It hung off her shoulders before being wrestled into place just below her ribs, clasped by more gold leaves which seemed to be her favoured decor, then pouring back out, and elegantly landing on the floor.

Truly, she was fit for the term goddess.

The worry wrinkles that he had previously seen on her forehead were gone and were now replaced with a kind smile and crinkles of joy around her eyes. He could tell that when she got older those lines of joy would forever remind everyone how happy she was.

She looked Kindly upon him and nodded her head slightly, before gasping and running for something to the side, which Loki could not see.

She returned not a moment later with a tray of food which made Loki’s stomach growl. There were fruits so ripe they could only have been picked for her, cheeses and meats piled onto different plates for his choosing, as well as a goblet which he suspected was filled with either wine or mead. His entire being was screaming at him to launch for the plates yet he still felt a shadow of doubt fill him.

“Where am I?”

Sigyn could see fear creeping up on him once more, perhaps fear of rejection or even fear of her, either way she put down the tray carefully and sat in between the open curtains, ready for whatever conversation Loki wanted to have, lengthy or not.

“Vanaheim.” She said, shuffling to make herself comfortable.

“No, not the realm, but where am I right now?”

He saw her pause, then chuckle slightly at the misunderstanding.

“Well, you’re in my chambers currently in the royal palace.” He felt his mouth drop, confusion clouding his expression.

“But don’t worry, I’ve been staying in another room, and only myself and Amora have been in or out.”

At that, a mass of blonde popped its head in and grinned at Loki, who was still sitting confused in the middle of the bed, no, the queens bed. He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or afraid, due to how he couldn’t completely comprehend to why a queen would give up her own chambers for someone who had just been dragged into her castle with no warning whatsoever.

Finally, he found himself able to utter a single word.

“Why?”

Sigyn looked upon him in confusion, trying her best to formulate an answer on so little information.

“Why what?”

He looked up into her eyes, his green one’s reflected back at him, complete bewilderment plastered upon him

“Why did you let me stay?”

Sigyn felt a lump instantly form in her throat, so upset that even in the face of it, the man in front of her couldn’t understand simple kindness, simply because it was directed towards him. Swallowing the lump, she tried to think of something to say other than ‘i felt you needed to be helped,’ electing that it should sound too much like a rescue of a puppy rather than helping a person, so instead she turned to him and sighed.

“I don’t know, you needed help and I felt I had to help. You were alone and you looked at me in a way that made me fear for you. Maybe it was because if I had not taken you, and you had died, that would have been my fault, maybe its simply because it was a selfless act. Maybe its some sort of fate rubbish people are constantly talking about,” Sigyn took a breath and looked down at the embroidery on her comforter, “Either way, if you wish you can stay for however long you like, no one would cast you out anymore.”

She looked back up to see Loki looking down at the embroidery himself, with small tracks of moisture running down his face from where tears were falling.

She stood up and rushed to the other side of the bed, pulling back the curtains and pulling him into a hug, not for using her talents, not to calm him down, because sometimes all someone needs is to cry, but simply so that he could be held. She wrapped one arm around his neck and one around his waist, trying her hardest not to hurt him, yet he didn’t seem to care for pain when he brought her closer to him, his head in her neck crying quietly.

As she held him, she heard him utter quietly over and over again two words which made her entire being cry for what this poor man had been through. As he sobbed it into the shoulder of her dress, wetting the material, not that Sigyn cared for that, she felt herself place a gentle, reassuring kiss on his forehead, whilst he continued to repeat those words again.

“Thank you.”

[cielizzydefencesquad]

a very 1920s au (part v)

Parts 1-4 can be found under the fanfiction tag below! :) 

It was January 22nd, 1924 and Sebastian was half out of his mind with boredom. The Phantomhive brat had been clever enough to deprive him of all company (i.e. chess pieces) and while Elizabeth Midford had transferred him into a more comfortable holding cell, there was still little to do. He was denied anything that could be used as a weapon—including silverware for goodness sake; what was he going to do with a butter knife? Stab someone with it? (Though, in retrospect, he did once kill a man with an empty lipstick tube.)

Lying on the hard bunk mattress, Sebastian’s glittering mahogany eyes were fixed on the cement ceiling, mind whirling with thoughts, schemes, and the question of escape. He needed at least three days to send Phantomhive down the wrong path and a few days more to get to Rosewood Clearing. From the limited amount of information he managed to piece together, Rosewood was about two and a half miles away from Phantomhive Manor—it’d been built in 1897 by Vincent Phantomhive as a wedding present for his blushing bride-to-be.

Not that she was ever there all that often, Sebastian snorted, crossing his arms behind his head. This new prison had a small slit window that allowed some sunlight into the cloistered little room and judging by the faint orange-pink rays, it was near sunset.

That was when he heard her footsteps—light and dainty, the faint click of a woman’s shoe…

The brat’s fiancée.

“Miss Elizabeth.” Sebastian acknowledged once she was close enough. He rose out of polite formality and gave her a short bow.

The girl seemed embarrassed. “I’m terribly sorry if I woke you.” She apologized, hands clasped together and golden curls loose. The lady wore a gown of dark blue satin that displayed her snow pale shoulders and exquisite décolletage. A heavy gold pendant hung round her neck.

“Not in the least.” He reassured, eyes meeting hers. “But the caverns of another man’s prison is hardly the place for a lady such as yourself.”

“Oh yes, yes I know.” She took another step forward. “Only…only I—“

“Yes?” He prompted—perhaps a touch too carelessly—and was surprised when he saw a brief hint of steel in her otherwise angelic expression.

“I need to know if what you said was true—if you’re genuinely unable to return to England.”

Sebastian eyed her warily and briefly debated on toying with her but—no. He needed to have a source on Phantomhive and while he doubted that the girl would actually betray her fiancé, it would at least be interesting to try.

“Yes,” he admitted, crossing the few feet of space he had to meet Elizabeth face to face. “Returning to Birmingham would be as good as signing my own death warrant.”  

“But Mr. Churchill seems rather insistent on catching you.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“So would it be out of the realm of possibility for him to send a federal agent across the Atlantic and to America in the hopes of tracking you down?” Her eyes were wide with false innocence and Sebastian felt a mixture of annoyance and grudging respect towards her. The girl certainly used her beauty to her utmost benefit, he’d give her that.

“What a thing to wonder.” Sebastian chuckled, looking the very essence of calm—if not somewhat amused. It was a trademark of his since the early days of his career when he ran cocaine for the London boys. “Why do you ask, Miss Midford?”

“Because it’s not everyday that the Chicago police department comes knocking on our front door. They’re either too scared or too inefficient but now we’ve had three visits in the span of five hours.” She pressed her palms against the prison bars. “Please be straight with me, Mr. Michaelis—would Mr. Churchill send a government agent cross continental in the hopes of capturing you?”

Sebastian liked the earnestness in her eyes—it was one of her greatest strengths—but otherwise chose to ignore it. After all, he was a creature of guile and opportunity and he would not be swayed by a little girl with sweetness in her soul. “Perhaps.” He allowed, half-smile still in place. “The man is rather temperamental—made a terrible ruckus during the war and was relegated to office duty. Shame, really. He would have made one hell of a prime minister.”  

“I know about Gallipoli.” She countered icily and Sebastian was mildly impressed by the harsh tremor in her voice. “I know Winston Churchill was willing to open a second front even after the Allies lost millions in the first four months of the war. I know Winston Churchill was willing to sacrifice 50,000 soldiers and betray the trust of his commanders in order to destroy the Ottoman Empire.” She leaned closer. “From what I can tell, Mr. Churchill doesn’t do things by halves and he’s come too far to sink back into obscurity. Can you imagine? One more political blunder like Gallipoli and he can kiss his dreams of becoming prime minister goodbye. How do you think the British public will feel knowing that good Winston Churchill had been consorting with mobsters and murderers?”

“Davenport—“

“He used to be head of the Irish mafia until Churchill made a deal with him. Trade in your mafia gun for a government badge and you escape persecution.”

“My, my—the lady knows her blackmail.” Sebastian’s smile was sharp as he traced Elizabeth’s palm with the tip of his finger.

She shuddered but refused to back down.

“Tell me,” she urged, “are those policemen here because of you?”

Sebastian shrugged, insolent to the last. “It seems that way, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Oh god.” She breathed, pressing one hand to her mouth.

“This is hardly a chapel, my dear.” He taunted lightly. “And I am no priest.”

“Ciel will kill you in twenty seconds if he thinks your presence will compromise his business.”

“Very well then. He’ll simply have two items of contention he needs to clean up.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Two items?”

“Oh yes,” the mobster replied blithely, “the first being my decaying corpse and the second being…well, you already know that.” He winked, sly and insincere.

The girl looked more confused than ever. “What are you talking about, Mr. Michaelis?”

“You’re a clever girl.” He leaned closer, breath ghosting across her cheek. “Figure it out.” Sebastian smirked. “Though I pride myself on notoriety, I hardly think Winston Churchill, admiral and protector, would go to all this trouble just to persecute me at the London courthouse.” He took two steps back, allowing the newly formed evening shadows to wash over him. “You remember the incident that occurred a few months ago? Just days before Christmas, Miss Elizabeth?” His voice turned to cold silk. “The orphanage that burned down, killing all those innocent children?”

“The…fire—it was an accident. Ciel…Ciel got there too late. A murder-suicide.” Her voice was a whisper.

Sebastian chuckled as he prowled the darkness, a demon hunting for his next meal. “Come now my dear, you’re more intelligent than that. A baptism of fire for those kidnapped children—a fire that just so happened to kill the only man who could’ve had your fiancé indicted for treason.”

“Ciel wouldn’t—“

“Oh but he would, my dear.” Sebastian smiled, teeth glinting in the faint moonlight. “He most definitely would.”

“Do you think it was wise, young master?” Tanaka inquired as he polished the silver, movements smooth and sure while his employer read by the fireplace.

Ciel, seated in a high-backed armchair, turned a page. “Do I think what was wise?” His voice was calm—monotone even—but his spine was rigid, his entire posture coiled like a spring.

“To send Miss Elizabeth down there to interrogate him. The man has a talent of planting seeds of doubt in even the most faithful of people.”

“If you think Elizabeth will be swayed by any of his arguments then you’re sorely mistaken.” He closed his book. “She’s strong. The strongest woman I know.”

“Aside from her mother of course.” The old butler chuckled.

Ciel winced. “Yes…Francis Midford is certainly…interesting to say the least.” He paused, almost half in thought. “My future mother-in-law. Thank god she lives in Boston.”

Tanaka laughed before turning around, giving his master a short bow. “I should think so, my lord. But all the same—I worry for Miss Elizabeth.”

“Have you so little faith in her abilities, Tanaka?” Ciel demanded. “She learned from my hand how to interrogate prisoners. I’ve seen her wheedle information out of the devoutest Catholic and most lascivious politician. Sebastian Michaelis will be no different.”

“Oh young master I have complete faith in my lady’s skill and strength, but the child she carries should not bear such a burden.”

“…Child?”

“Indeed, my lord.” Tanaka bowed again. “Your child.”

A/N: Yayyy part V of my 1920s au series! Plot’s finally rolling along—I’m hoping Alois gets to make his big debut next chapter (: Thanks for reading!