#lila's wips: ootp

[writeblrfantasy]

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ORDER OF THE PHANTOM: some of my favorite lines

bet yall forgot about this wip, huh? it's not a wip anymore but i still love it and am currently wondering if i'll ever be able to write anything as good as it again. bittersweet feelings but i still love it dearly :)

The term parents has even grown thin to Cerrick lately. The woman who birthed him, the man who hovered over her to make sure the child was secure in the world. The two who guided him shoddily through early life and drove him out as soon as he could leave. His true parents, the people who truly love him as a mother and father should, are Edda and Brandr.

~

“Cerrick? My love? What’s wrong? Why do you cry so?” Njord is so quick to pick up on his tears. They so obviously distress him.

“I’m not sure what’s wrong,” Cerrick laughs, wiping his tears as more leak out. Njord makes a noise of distress and pulls him closer, Cerrick’s head to his chest now. Njord likes being able to hold the back of his head and cradle him close, where he can protect him. Someone who uses their strength and skill and bulk to protect instead of slaughter—especially a soldier, especially head of his country’s army—is a rare treasure who deserves to be treated as such.

Pressed close to Njord’s clean, soft nightshirt isn’t the worst place to rest his head as Cerrick tries to get a hold of himself.

~

“If you will not do it yourself,” Anya says, cutting in, “then I will. Atonement. No longer will we lie awake at night wondering if we did the right thing, what that person truly wanted. Following orders can lead one down a blind path, but sometimes the difference comes in judging which ones are the right ones.” Sure enough, she draws a knife that glints in the lamplight. Her face is illuminated. “This is the right one.”

~

Cerrick nods, smiling at her likeable roughness. He holds tight to Edlyn’s hand and wanders over to where Eir is regaling the Os warriors with stories of her own glorious battle fights, describing in chilling detail how she ripped out the hearts of men with the claw on her Pointstaff. Ivan takes the job of following Solveig up the stairs.

~

Cerrick is happy to take comfort in his first true hug since the heat of battle ended—Njord is on the other side of the floor, helping shepherd the wounded where Solveig’s soldiers will them, spreading light and positivity as he does. He’ll make sure Cerrick threatens to get sick of his doting and affection later, but for now, Cerrick takes this.

~

If Gustav was graceful, Njord is grace itself, fighting elegance and brutality marrying in a beautiful mix. The storm. The creature Cerrick only guessed at, always wondering how much power lay inside just waiting for a moment to be unleashed. He can do nothing but stand there and watch as Njord fights, oblivious to the world and all else but him and the wind.

~

A restless hum filled the air that sleepy dawn. Most of us had been awake on and off all night, jostled by Solveig’s voice and the movement of our horses, as well as the anxiety over what was to come, but we all harbored an earnest desire to see this through. I can’t capture the energy that day. You had to be there to truly feel it. Hopefully this account will do its best to illustrate it.

orderverse taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @willowiswriting @ninazeniks @magic-is-something-we-create @myhusbandsasemni @ren-c-leyn @justwriteyoudummy @47crayons @yejidoesthings @ettawritesnstudies @faithfire @a-forgotten-dusk @talesfromaurea @ashen-crest @thelaughingstag @chaotic-queer-disaster

[writeblrfantasy]

I FINISHED THE FIRST DRAFT OF ORDER OF THE PHANTOM

AAAAAAAAA

IN 8 DAYS

I WROTE 60 THOUSAND FUCKING WORDS

IN LESS THAN A MONTH I WROTE THE 70 FOR THIS WIP

I AM SO HAPPY

AND SO PROUD OF MYSELF

AND SO EMOTIONAL THAT THIS TRILOGY IS COMING TO AN END

AAAA

orderverse taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @willowiswriting @ninazeniks @magic-is-something-we-create @myhusbandsasemni @ren-c-leyn @justwriteyoudummy @47crayons @yejidoesthings @ettawritesnstudies @faithfire @a-forgotten-dusk @talesfromaurea @ashen-crest @thelaughingstag

[writeblrfantasy]

excerpt from order of the phantom: cerrick's cellmate

who this dude is and why cerrick is in a jail is for me to know and you not to get spoiled, but i'm proud of this description and i wrote the first part of ootp last night so <3

“Leave? What? You’re leaving?” Cerrick’s mysterious sobber is up on their feet in seconds, judging by the rustle of cloth. Oh, Saints, now Cerrick has gone and done it. he bites back a curse, struggling to keep the smile on.

The figure comes to the bars, finally entering Cerrick’s vision. Tall, taller than him, and thin as a stick. Yellow hair that sticks out in every direction, dirty and unkempt, dead brown eyes sagging in their sockets. Pale fingers that replace Cerrick’s on the bars, bony and long. All of his skin as a grayish tint to it, an unhealthy hallow.

[redacted.]

He’s a ghastly, ghostly sight, almost entirely unrecognizable compared to the smiling man Cerrick met a while ago. Cerrick jumps back, removing his hands from the bars. His quick reaction doesn’t seem to go over well with [redacted], whose face contorts into an ugly grimace like he’s going to bust out into tears again. Cerrick sees the tear stains on his face—just that day he had one of his worst crying fits ever. Bloodshot and red rimmed eyes are a strange mix with his half alive color.

orderverse taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @willowiswriting @ninazeniks @magic-is-something-we-create @myhusbandsasemni @ren-c-leyn @justwriteyoudummy @47crayons @yejidoesthings @ettawritesnstudies @faithfire @a-forgotten-dusk @talesfromaurea @ashen-crest @thelaughingstag

[writeblrfantasy]

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order of the phantom: also known as edlyn being done with everyone's shit ™ (particularly cerord's) ft one isntance where cerrick is done with hers

this is just from order of the phantom i might make comps from oots and ooti too lmao

“What is taking you two so long?” comes Edlyn’s voice, typically annoyed as she busts through the wooden double doors of their chambers. The two of them jump apart. “Ah, of course. I shouldn’t have expected any different. What is it about him in fancy clothes that’s so—uh—detrimental to you, Njord?”

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“Saints above, you wouldn’t believe the meals he’s been making for all of us,” Edda sighs. “He’s banned me from my own kitchen. He couldn’t get more perfect.”

“I would beg to differ,” Cerrick says with a warm smile, reaching for Njord’s hand. “He’s not Njord.”

“This is what I haven’t missed. Insufferable, you two,” Edlyn says, lightly slapping Cerrick’s back. He chuckles, dodging out of the way.

~

Cerrick sighs, steeling himself. Njord is riding just ahead of them beside that scholar of Solveig’s who’s recording their whole journey, busy in her notebook. Njord can’t reach back and touch Cerrick, but he turns around and smiles, blowing him a kiss. That alone could sustain Cerrick through this whole battle.

“Insufferable,” Edlyn mutters. Cerrick elbows her.

~

Like he tends to do when Edda puts on anything of note, Brandr stares at her openmouthed, standing right in the way of foot traffic. Ivan stands beside him, looking at up at her in similar awe. His head comes up to the horse’s shoulder, barely.

Edda doesn’t notice them, she’s busy giving orders together with Solveig, who’s sitting tall and strong on a dark brown horse beside her.

“You two, stop gawking and get out of the way,” Edlyn says, pushing past Brandr and Ivan. “Why aren’t you on horseback yet?”

“Got distracted,” Brandr manages, finally tearing his eyes from Edda. Cerrick, who has been watching this whole debacle from the seat of the dappled gray horse Edda assigned him, snorts. Brandr getting a bit distracted over Edda is like saying Cerrick sometimes want to kiss Njord. Just a tad.

~

At sight of Cerrick, Njord smiles, mounting his black stallion with ease, the Pointstaff in his hand acting as a means with which to brace himself. He’s the same height as Edda, both on his feet and sitting beside her on their horses. The two of them talk quietly together. Njord has been getting along easily with every oligarch he meets so far.

“You’re staring now. Drooling, I might say.”

Cerrick whips his head around to see Edlyn, standing on the step she needs to mount the horse. Once she’s secure behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist, she mutters in his ear, “Don’t be so quick to judge Brandr and Ivan, you lovesick little shit.”

He scowls, suddenly glad Njord is not looking this way. “Shut up.”

~

“Crying wasn’t the sound I expected to hear from your room last night,” she says under her breath, either so that Brandr won’t have to hear or because she’s too sleepy for loud noises. Cerrick has been there many times, where every sound in the morning grates on him and motivates him to do unspeakable things, but this morning is not one of them. He’s peppy, especially with the first drink of coffee he’s about to take.

If she was hoping to faze him with such words, she’s failed. “Oh, don’t worry, that will come later,” Cerrick says at full volume, sliding onto a stool beside her. He pours himself some coffee from the pot. Brandr looks over but doesn’t say anything.

“You are insufferably awake,” she grumbles, retreating further into her blanket with her coffee mug. He hides his shit eating grin in the rim of his own.

~

Cerrick groans, recalling a conversation they had when Njord got him his new cloak, a meaningless comment made to Edlyn that he thought she forgot about. He forgot about it.

Don’t get black, he said. Well, she’s as stubborn and spiteful as him. He should’ve known better than to taunt her like that.

“And you call me insufferable. Is this what it’s going to be for the whole of our lives?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He sighs, long and hard, wondering why he chose to form a new country with this girl as his co ruler.

orderverse taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @willowiswriting @ninazeniks @magic-is-something-we-create @myhusbandsasemni @ren-c-leyn @justwriteyoudummy @47crayons @yejidoesthings @ettawritesnstudies @faithfire @a-forgotten-dusk @talesfromaurea @ashen-crest @thelaughingstag

[writeblrfantasy]

excerpt from order of the phantom: cerrick's new cloak

this is like the only non spoilery thing i have written lately so :)

“Cerrick, my love, come here.”

Words Cerrick could never refuse, though he has foolishly tried before. “Close your eyes,” Njord says once he’s within touching distance.

Cerrick obeys, expecting a kiss, keenly aware of all the eyes on them. Njord murmurs something in Aeton under his breath, but Cerrick’s curiosity about that is quickly replaced by curiosity about the rustle of fabric from the left. Weight falls around his shoulders, the familiar warmth of a cloak. Njord moves around him, fussing, taking far too long to clasp it in the front. “Curse my large fingers,” he grumbles. Cerrick laughs.

Njord can’t seem to resist kissing the side of his neck as he steps away, seemingly satisfied with his arranging of the cloak. “You can open your eyes now.”

Cerrick does so, and what he finds in the mirror blows him away with a gasp. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but that weeks ago conversation about where Njord’s last gift ended up and when Cerrick’s birthday is have long since fled his mind. The last cloak was bright, Kryc blue, but this is a bold, beautiful red.

It’s much longer than the last one. this one clearly isn’t meant for practicality, this is meant for someone who does nothing but sit and look pretty all day. It goes well past his ankles, extending in a wide radius on the floor around him. It’s going to get dirty quickly.

“Look on the back,” Njord prompts. Cerrick turns, catching hints of the dark gray embroidery around the collar and the sides of the edges. He runs his fingers along it, feeling it delicately like it’s just his to try on and borrow. The perfectly soft fabric seems too unreal to belong to him. he can’t believe this is all for him. what kind of husband spoils like this?

The back, it turns out, is even more breathtaking than the front. Intricately embroidered designs take up most of the space with a stark black thread, an eye catcher. He spends several openmouthed seconds trying to figure out what the designs mean or represent, but he can’t find any order to them. every time he looks at them differently or shifts in the mirror, he sees something different.

Njord crowds up behind him and places his hands on Cerrick’s shoulders. He murmurs in his ear, “A cloak befitting of a king.”

Cerrick decides right then what the colors of Nilia are going to be.

The fur at his neck, he notices belatedly, is a pure white. Even stranger, it’s not too hot. It looks like it would be perfect for life in northern Kryos, but it’s light and perfect for the warmth of the southern summer. the fabric feels like velvet, shimmers like velvet, but it’s as light as a lace up shirt.

“The seamstress said they made heavy looking cloaks out of lightweight materials for those who live in the south,” Njord says proudly, though Cerrick doubts he knows what any of that means. “All the glamor without any of the suffering.”

Cerrick spins around, startled by how easily the cloak train follows him, and pulls Njord down for a kiss. “thank you. I love it. it’s absolutely stunning, and this lightweight fabric is a marvel.”

Njord beams. He turns to Edlyn, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you one.”

“More than okay. You are giving me ideas for what my replacement cloak will look like.”

“We’re in the south now,” Cerrick says. “Please, for the love of Saints, don’t get another black one. it will be your detriment, and I’ll have to put up with all the moaning you’ll do about how hot you get.”

“I grew up with the heat. If anyone is going to be moaning because of hot and heavy cloaks, it’s going to be you.”

Cerrick rolls his eyes, turning to look at his front in the mirror again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you one with the…” Njord trails off, gesturing to the breast of his own cloak.

“Hooks?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Cerrick shrugs. “I don’t need hooks for objects on my cloak. It’s never been my favorite part of Kryc culture, and I’d be happy to see it tamper off. Those little objects make too much noise. Too little stealth when a cloak already hinders stealth by providing something I might trip on.”

“Are you saying you don’t like my knives?” Edlyn asks, reminding him she’s there, that they’re not alone.

“Your knives are pushing it,” Cerrick retorts, “but the chains were over the line ridiculous.”

“Because I know we will have to go back to the north—” Njord leans down on one knee to demonstrate. “You can roll up the train and pin it underneath. I think. The seamstress’s southern accent was thick, I had trouble following at times.”

Cerrick kisses his cheek. “You are a Saint among men.”

Njord smiles. Cerrick’s heart pulses painfully, unsure how anyone could possibly make him this happy simply by looking this happy. “I didn’t make the cloak.”

They both know it doesn’t matter.

orderverse taglist (lmk to be added/removed) @willowiswriting @ninazeniks @magic-is-something-we-create @myhusbandsasemni @ren-c-leyn @justwriteyoudummy @47crayons @yejidoesthings @ettawritesnstudies @faithfire @a-forgotten-dusk @talesfromaurea @ashen-crest @thelaughingstag

[writeblrfantasy]

in honor of reaching my 6k minimum goal about 9 hours early, and being well on the way to 10k, have a snippet of njord spouting some wisdom <3 live your lives for you, no one else yall