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#man she should be a maiden in the squire au!
nezuko-demon-slayer · 2 years
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In the Squire Jaune au, should Weiss end up the Winter Maiden?
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kawaiichibiart · 17 days
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New AU idea: Abandoned Doll House
No one knows exactly how long it's been. Some say it's been a few days. Some say it's been years. But if there was one thing they could agree on, was that this one house has been abandoned. As they pass it they see no signs of life, but they can hear things coming from inside.
However, no one can be inside, as the last owner died from old age. And yet the windows and the porch are clean almost every morning. The windows will sometimes be open. A rich aroma will pass by, day after day.
No one should be living in there. And yet many say that they often see a young girl lurking inside. Some say she's hiding out in the house. Some say she's the one who killed the old woman who had lived there. Poisoned her, the rumors say. But to many, she is simply the maid:
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Honami was born decades ago. While she wasn't the most well off, she had a steady job as a maid. Sadly, she and the owner of the house both passed away during an unexpected natural disaster (earthquake, tornado, haven't decided yet).
The house was destroyed and the two were found in the rubble. They had both died from a combination of blood loss and blunt force trauma.
To this day, Honami isn't sure why she hasn't moved on, but she's found comfort in the rebuilt house. It saddens her that any help she provides (cleaning, cooking, etc.) often lead people to leave.
As time went by, people began to dump things inside the house. And while Honami loathed the action, she began to care after the many dolls people, usually parents, threw inside.
The first were two porcelain doll statues, Shizuku the Phantom Belle, and Kanade the White Reaper.
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Shizuku and Kanade were both sculpted by the same hands. Both were made to look very well known women. Shizuku was modeled after a model, however after it was discovered that the model was hiding things about herself, her popularity dropped. Shizuku was ultimately discarded despite being a popular item. Kanade was modeled after a pianist's daughter. His daughter was deathly ill, and said having Kanade by her bedside felt like having an angel next to her, watching over her. She would pass a month later and her grieving father believed that Made wasn't the angel his daughter claimed her to be, but rather the Grim Reaper. With his beliefs that Kanade would kill him next, he gave her to a couple who insisted on taking the figure he was about to throw away, despite his warnings of her being Death itself. She was passed from person to person, each not taking note of her "curse" until she was eventually dumped into Honami's house alongside Shizuku.
Honami then got her hands on Rui the ----* and Nene the Songstress.
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Rui and Nene are a pair. The two were sold together more often than they were sold separately. Both were modeled after characters in a play. Rui was modeled after a reclusive nobleman and Nene was modeled after a duchess. The story was meant to told in three separate shows. However, the story was never finished. The creator of the play had run off with the money they had made from the first two shows, leaving the story to die before resolving anything that had happened. Rui and Nene eventually stopped being sold and made. When they were dumped into Honami's house, it was done by a young man who wanted nothing to do with the dolls he was gifted.
Princess An and Kohane "Little Red Riding Hood" were next to arrive.
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Shortly after, the same person who left An and Kohane returned to dump Prince Akito, Squire Shiho and Sword Maiden Ichika.
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The five of them are part of a fairytale series. A bookstore thought that they'd have more luck selling books if toys were made to go alongside them, as a way to encourage kids to play out their favorite parts.
That's all I have so far, but other dolls who came together (as an actual set or just at the same time) are:
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*Rui's tag was destroyed before he was given to his last owner. Where Nene still has hers in tact, labeling her as the Songstress, Rui's is basically gone, so what his role was is unknown.
About the remaining dolls:
Emu is a clown doll. The idea was to make her cute as possible so kids wouldn't be scared of her, which is why her face is free of any clown makeup, the people who made her doll believed that if her face was normal looking, she'd be more likable.
Mafuyu is nurse doll (obviously). She's mostly made for kids who have to stay in the hospital, newly expecting mothers, or nurses who have graduated from medical school.
Mizuki is basically something like an American Girl Doll. She's a collectors item.
Airi is a mushroom fairy and Ena is a woodland fairy. Both were made to go alongside a movie.
Haruka is a fashion doll (think Barbie) and Minori is a wedding doll/cake topper.
The Tenmas are Hina Dolls (again: obviously). They are also the last ones to arrive.
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invisibleraven · 1 year
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The more the merrier
A series of ficlets for @polyshipweek 2023
Day Six: Mythology AU-PeterPatterLina <-AO3 link
This is very loosely based on the legends of King Arthur, specifically the love triangle between him, Guinevere, and Lancelot, only making it polyamorous, and with a much happier ending.
All Reginald had ever wanted to be, his whole life, was a knight. To slay dragons, rescue maidens, go on holy quests, and serve his land. To go down in legend, like all the heroes of old. Of course, he knew it was not possible, given his situation was that of a poor farm boy with no education or training, but he wished it all the same.
He had no sword or lance, but a simple shepherd's staff. No mighty steed but a lame pony who was his dearest compatriots, but not good for jousting or rescuing maidens fair.
That all changed one day when he was out tending the sheep. He heard a far off cry-that of a woman, screaming in terror. He glanced at his flock, safe and secure, and then towards the nearby woods where the noises were coming from. He knew it would mean punishment should a single lamb be lost, but he took off running, nothing but his staff in hand.
There he found a large wolf, snarling over a woman dressed in gossamer and silk, her ankle caught in a tree root. He yelled and raged at the creature, swinging his staff at it until it slinked away. He knew it to be a foolish endeavour, but he needed to be brave, to protect this poor innocent who had fallen victim to nature. This was his chance to play hero, so he did so. Finally the wolf was far off, a mere dot on the horizon, and he turned back to the fallen lady. “Are you okay, miss?” Reggie asked, stooping down to free her caught foot.
“I am now, thanks to you, my brave hero,” she said, standing tall. Reggie held back a gasp at her stature, the almost ethereal quality to her. Her gown flowed in the wind, the colour of a quiet lake, all blues and silvers, reflected in her eyes, while her hair was as golden as the sun. She peered at him, and then smiled. “I can see that you are noble, kind, and true. If you keep hold of these qualities then you shall always have my blessing.” with that she kissed his forehead, and disappeared in a blast of light.
Reginald winced and rubbed his eyes, making his way back to the sheep-thankfully all there, and wondered if he had dreamt the whole thing. Yet he could feel a tingle of where the kiss mark was, and felt a sense of-confidence, of power, of luck.
And so it was that the next day a local knight came asking about him as a squire, a chance that Reggie couldn’t give up. He bid his family farewell and headed to the knight’s keep. There he learned all there was to know in regards to being a knight, the ways of the world. And it turned out, he was quite good at it. Almost unnaturally so. He often wondered after the woman whom he rescued, perhaps she had some sort of powers, and her blessing was literal?
And he remembered the words she had said to him, so he vowed to remain noble, kind, and true, just as she wanted.
This became complicated when he was called to be knighted by the king himself. Reggie had long dreamed of joining the Round Table, of serving King Lukas. The man was hardly older than Reggie himself but had already established himself as a wise and fair ruler. And he lived up to every bit of the legend.
Luke, who smiled at Reggie after knighting him on the rocky clifftop where he had found him, and helped defeat a bear. Who shared stories with him around the campfire when they went on quests and listened to Reggie’s in return. Who held him tight on cold nights under the stars, if only so they could keep warm. Who owned Reggie’s heart wholly for their time together.
But then they had to return to Camelot. The Grail had been retrieved, they were all gloriously tired, and deserved a rest. But Reggie would have been fine never returning, because he knew that as soon as they returned, Luke would no longer be his.
Because waiting back home was Luke’s queen-Julianna, Julie to those who knew her. Reggie had yet to have the pleasure. He held no malice towards her, he knew Luke loved her, as she loved him, and from what he had heard from the other knights, she was the best woman there was. Sweet, talented, and bonny to look upon. But no one person could be all they described.
Yet when he gazed upon the queen for the first time, the soft smile she gave him, her heartfelt thanks for keeping the king safe, the tiny giggle she let out at some joke or another had Reggie ready to hand his heart over. It seemed even the stories of the queen held no candle to the real person.
As the days went on, Reggie felt overwhelmed. The court was much different than life on the farm, or even the keep where he had learned his trade. He tried to read the books and scrolls in the library, but they seemed to turn him around even further. It was in this confused state that Luke found him one day. “I know it’s hard, my dove,” he said. “It was hard for me as well.”
“Were you not raised by your father to rule?” Reggie asked.
Luke snorted. “My father was a simple schoolmaster, my mother a weaver’s apprentice. I have not one drop of royal blood. I honestly wanted to grow up to become a bard.” He gave a wistful sigh at that, and Reggie could see it-there had been many a night around the fire where Luke had led his knights in song, his voice carrying through the darkness and bolstering all their spirits.
“Then… how?”
“I pulled a sword from a stone,” Luke offered in explanation. “After all the horrid prior kings, a wizard put it there, and said only the one true king could pull it out. I did so on a dare, and well, here I am. The wizard taught me for a bit, how to rule and be a good king, but then he went off exploring. He pops in every few years, but I had to learn on my feet. So I study, but it’s mostly Julie who I learned from.”
“The queen?” Reggie asks. And as if she was summoned, she enters, a book in hand. Luke gestures her over, whispering in her ear. She looks at him with love, and a bit of exasperation, but presses a kiss to his cheek before joining them.
“Hello Ser Reginald,” she says with a nod. “My darling husband says you may need instruction. My father was a wealthy lord, and he insisted I learn along with my brother everything that could be taught. I’d be happy to help you.”
Reggie tried to protest, he did, but the queen wouldn’t hear of it. So he spent many afternoons learning with Julie, others sparring with Luke, and many more with the both of them. Yes, he would say he was guardian of his sovereigns, but they still pulled him down onto the grass to picnic with them, still lay beside him as he read aloud, delighted in singing songs together.
Which is why he was now so conflicted. He knew his heart loved them both, but he could not act upon it. To do so would mean treason, heartbreak, and the loss of everything he had ever wanted. He knew the blessing given to him would disappear should he try to gain either of his loves for himself-such an act would not be noble. And there was no way he could have both-greed was the antithesis of being true. So he decided to suffer in silence.
Fate however, had other plans.
It was late, well past time to retire when he was summoned to Luke and Julie’s chambers. They had a small fire banked, candles lit, and worried looks on their faces. “Sit, please,” Luke urged. Reggie sat, and was almost afraid to look at them. Had they discovered his desire for them and this was to be his ousting from the kingdom? Was he being sent to another land for the foreseeable future? Was there a war coming he knew nothing about?
Julie gave him a small grin, and squeezed his hands with her own. “You needn’t look so worried abejorro, we have glad tidings.”
Reggie tried to smile, but he was sure it was a weak one. “Is it an heir?”
Luke chuckled. “No, not as of yet.” Then, with a smidge of doubt, turned to his wife. “Right?”
Julie tittered with laughter. “No tesoro, not yet.”
“Then good news do you have for me?” Reggie asked, noting that Julie had yet to let go of his hands. Or that Luke was reaching out to grip his shoulder, a smile on his lips.
“Do you truly not know?” Luke asked. “Have you not guessed?”
“I guess we need to be a little more obvious mi vida,” Julie smirked, then turned and pressed a lightning fast kiss to Reggie’s mouth. He squeaked, freezing, but then melted into the kiss, the sweet flavour and spark of white hot passion felt like the dawning of a new day, Reggie’s heart bursting with all the colours of the sunrise.
He pulled back, and before he could think to utter anything, Luke swooped in and captured his mouth for his own kiss. It was more playful, full of cheek, but then there was a swipe of tongue, and there was that daybreak feeling once more. Luke pulled back, offering Reggie an impish, boyish grin.
Reggie was flabbergasted, not knowing what was going on. But his lieges were staring at him expectantly, hopeful, and his lips were tingling, his heart pounding, his brain reeling. “I… I cannot.”
“Oh,” Julie said, her voice deep with disappointment.
“Do you not feel the same?” Luke asked, his voice the smallest and quietest Reggie had ever heard it.
“No, I adore you both!” Reggie responded. “But… I was told I had to stay noble, and true.”
“Who told you that cariño?” Julie asks. So Reggie sits them down and tells them the tale. How he has longed for them, but feels he would be betraying his promise to love either of them, let alone both.
“Reggie you have the largest heart of any man I’ve known. Have stood by my side through thick and thin, on every quest. If that is not the definition of truth, I don’t know what is,” Luke finally says.
“And don’t think I haven’t heard you stick up for those who cannot defend themselves,” Julie pipes up. “Or your care for every creature under this roof. How is that not noble?”
“Isn’t it selfish?” Reggie asks.
“Do you think us selfish for wanting you?” Luke questions. Reggie shakes his head so fast Luke wonders how his teeth aren’t rattling. “Then how is it different for you?”
“Reggie, you became a knight because you are all those things,” Julie assures him. “Not because of some blessing. But we would love you if you were still the poor boy on the farm using a stick for a sword and a lame pony as a noble steed.”
Reggie thinks it over, for a long time, sitting in silence as the thoughts tumble around his brain. Finally he reaches a conclusion, and reaches for his loves, pulling them in for as many kisses as he can handle-which turns out, was quite a lot.
He never sees the woman who blessed him, nor any great misfortune for being the love of the royal family. He instead sees a lifetime of adventure, and more importantly, of love, and that was worth any childhood dream or fairy blessing ever.
The stuff worthy of legends.
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penwieldingdreamer · 2 years
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Ego sum Sol et tu es Luna
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So, I've been on a binge of Adam Driver's movies and got stuck with a few ideas. One of those is a Last Duel AU. I know it's a sensitive topic, so beware that themes of the movie will be discussed as well. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged in further chapters/works.
Happy reading!
Part 2
Summary: Y/N studied Norman-French, Old English and Latin, before she went to Normandy to help her university friend to show tourists around. But she didn't count on her ending up in a time where two famous French squires were fighting the Last Duel.
No warnigs so far
She stared up at the full moon, wondering how she ended up in a forest when not only seconds before she wandered the grounds of Chateau Aunou-le-Faucon. 
Henry, a friend from college had asked, nay begged Y/N to help him during the summer months showing groups of tourists around grounds of the medieval buildings and entrancing them with stories of knighthood, maidens and kings. She was the one studying Norman-French, Old English and Latin, while he was more prone to the arts. 
Arriving at his home in the French commune in the Orne Department in the middle of Normandy, the young woman was blown away by the beautiful landscape. So very different from her own home that she enjoyed strolls along the many fields lining the streets each evening. But yet one night Y/N swore she had seen someone following her. A man, judging by the towering height shrouded in the shadows of the Abby across the chateau. Maybe a tourist out for a stroll himself, she thought, but she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rising up. 
The same night she couldn't help the feeling that she was watched, again. Taking a sip of her tea, Y/N stood at the window overlooking the chateau. She swore she saw someone walk the grounds. Henry had told her only those working for the French commune were allowed to be there every hour of every day and she already met everyone.
In the end, she probably shouldn't have followed that strange man. When she had gotten closer Y/N thought she had seen his face but it was impossible that he was standing there on the grounds of Chateau Aunou-le-Faucon.
Jacques Le Gris was dead, killed in a duel. A trial by combat in the late 14th century and yet she couldn't help but wonder if it was only a ghost, conjured by her tired mind as she stood across from him shivering from the heavy rain that set in minutes ago.
"Sir, you are trespassing on private property. You should not be here so late at night." 
The stranger watched her, his face only just illuminated by the strike of lighting up ahead, eliciting a gasp from her lips. This was definitely a dream, nay impossible for someone being awake to see what she saw. "This is not the time for dressing up as a legendary knight, sir. Please come back in the morning when the next tour around the grounds and the commune will be held."
With a swift movement his large hand reached for Y/N's arm, pulling her closer against his chest, but it wasn't warm to the touch like a human's body. It was harsh and cold, causing a shiver to run down her spine. He towered over her, water dripping from his hair and nose, crashing against her cheeks to mingle with the pouring rain. 
"Help me!" His deep voice spoke, nearly swallowed by the loud clap of thunder but the desperation of his words made her pause. 
What the hell was going on here?
Lighting struck again and Y/N let out a soft gasp as she finally saw his features up close. The portraits didn't do him justice, moles scattered over his face and the honeyed brown of his eyes alight with fire. And yet she knew his story, knew how and why he had been killed on that fateful day in December of the year 1386. He was a womanizer and rapist, however a noble and brave knight he might have been. She tried to open her mouth, probably trying to tell herself that it was only just a dream and she'd awake in her room in Henry's home.
But she hadn't woken up under the soft covers of her summer home. Now she was lying on a patch of grass in a forest with no idea where she was or how she had ended up there, soaking wet from the torrents that had poured down at her. Taking a deep breath, Y/N sat up with a groan, the cold ground underneath her and seeping through her light pajama pants. Whatever had happened, the landing wasn't too smooth judging from her smarting hip and back.
"Henry!" Her call echoed around the dark woods, the rustling leaves and underbrush her only answer. "Henry, please! Where are you."
Trembling, she pulled herself upright, fighting the urge to let her knees buckle under her. Tears gathered in her eyes as she called again, desperately awaiting an answer from her friend - really anyone that might be able to help. One foot before the other, Y/N shakily moved over fallen twigs, stones and mossy ground, her cries now nothing but a whisper on the soft wind blowing through the trees. 
She didn't know how long she wandered the forest but her heart leapt into her throat when she saw light moving between the trees. "Henry." The whisper left her lips as she picked up speed, hoping to get back to her friend again.
"Henry!" Y/N cried, smiling in relief when she cleared the patch of darkness that surrounded her. But her elation was soon replaced by dread.
Foot soldiers and riders swiftly moved through the wood, trampling anything under their feet and hooves. She stopped just at the side of their road, a gasp leaving her lips. Either she had stumbled up on a film set or she had hit her head harder than she thought. There was no blood on her hands when she checked herself over. 
Her hair glinted in the torch light and she felt uncomfortably exposed to the eyes of the men having stopped to look at her. 
"Who goes there?" Y/N shrunk back as she heard the deep rumble she only thought she had dreamed up hours ago, the dialect different from any French she had heard before. The dappled gray moved forward, honeyed brown eyes staring down at her and the words got stuck in her throat.
Shivers ran up her spine, not just from the cold and her damp clothes. Y/N surely felt out of place, somewhere stuck between dream and reality. A place that felt too real to be anything but fantasy, yet too crazy to have her wake up in her own bed. 
Jacques Le Gris watched her closely, his eyes roaming over her body, hidden by strange garments and dressed like a man with pants and a blouse. He felt his hardness stirring in his breaches at the sight of the girl - nay, woman scantily clad in sheer nothingness. "Tell me, what is your business in the Count's woods?"
Y/N breathed in deeply through her nose, keeping her eyes straight on the dark haired giant that sat atop his war horse. What was she going to tell him? That she didn't know what to tell him? If she was truly stuck in the past there was no way they'd let her live, she'd faster be tied on a stake and burnt as a witch than she could tell Jacques his own story. 
Agitated with her lack of response, the squire pointed at her. "Bind her and take her with us. The Count will decide what to do with her." Jacques turned his horse and rode to the front, knowing his men would do their work without hesitation. He couldn't help the smirk that grazed his lips when he heard the woman cry and shriek in protest, yet she was no match for his soldiers. Pierre would be the judge and jury, but no matter her fate, he'd make damn sure to get a taste of her. 
@fortheloveoffanfic
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gone-series-orchid · 2 years
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the asoiaf au is really interesting! Can you tell us how the various characters know each other? like, maybe Sam knows Edilio from before Sam was a squire? I think it'd bring the au together a little more.
thank you, anon! i’m glad you like it! i’ve been rereading asoiaf the past few weeks (still on a game of thrones) and it’s been really inspiring. it’s really fun to think of how the gone kids would fare in westeros and what the fayz would look like in a fictionalized medieval setting, especially considering most of the asoiaf characters are (at least in the first book) below 15, and the age of majority in westeros is 16, but adolescence didn’t exist as a concept, really. it’s interesting! though in astrid’s case, it did make me realize how much asoiaf lacks for profoundly intellectual female characters—the female characters are all smart, of course, and educated, but it’s hard to see a character who’s a genius like astrid living up to her intellectual potential, even for a highborn lady. diana, with her feminine wiles and cynicism and snark, would fit in well.
yeah, i think it definitely would make sense for edilio and sam to know each other before sam is made a squire! maybe he and edilio used to be close, then sam befriended quinn and their friendship fell apart. or maybe edilio is employed as a stable boy and their friendship is allowed to continue. i don’t think quinn would have any qualms about befriending a stable boy or a bastard, as long as they appreciate his japes!
i think all the minor houses would be pretty close by—maybe they meet at a grand banquet for caine’s sixteenth nameday (i’d age the kids up a tiny bit just because i think that could lead to more story opportunities—the kids would technically be considered adults, but when the fayz happens and the chips are down, they know they’re really just children after all).
so all the minor houses are invited, and they basically have to play nice despite maybe caine’s house having a certain shady reputation (a la littlefinger). their revenues of course come too, so squires and stable boys are invited as well. so all the kids meet and mingle for the first time, and drama ensues from that. drake is a sadistic guy so he instantly tries to spar with quinn and the other minor male nobles in his age group—with real steel, not wooden swords, even though he’s not a man yet, being only 15. caine’s insulted and agrees, as he’s a man grown now.
meanwhile, the girls have been told that one of them might, if all goes well, be engaged to caine. they don’t know anything about him except rumors, so they might be extremely worried that he seems to be an aggressive weirdo. diana is especially angered because she always expected to marry into a minor dornish house, meanwhile the other noble ladies whisper about her because of her bastardy, which she also doesn’t like. she’s determined to prove her worth to the snobs who dislike her for the station of her birth, and to do that she must marry well, so she might scheme to curry the sorens’ favor in some cunning way. astrid doesn’t want to marry because she’s most concerned with taking care of little pete and learning as much as she can from the beautiful gilded tomes in house soren’s library, but she feels a strong duty to provide for lp, and to do that she must marry, so she’s sort of at an impasse.
meanwhile, mary, taylor, dahra, and lana are also there as eligible maidens (possibly three are handmaidens to one of them, but idk who should be which) but they flock together and eat pastries, like margaery tyrell’s little inner circle of ladies.
drama would inevitably ensue. i think caine would probably be challenged to a duel by drake at some point when all the parents and authorities were too in their cups to care about what their kids were doing. caine might unexpectedly win, which would make drake angry. quinn is helpless with a sword and so falls quickly, but sam takes it up to defend his friend. caine and drake both scoff at a bastard defending a craven like quinn, but lo! sam strikes the sword out of caine’s hand!
more drama ensues, probably. sam and diana could bond over their bastardy a little. astrid might spy orc and a few other boys making cruel japes about little pete and march over and yell at them or something, idk. she’d be like “i don’t think any son of house merriman should be insulting a member of a family with five times its money. don’t you?” and of course orc would be stunned and enraged, but also a little chastised. and extra angry because he was chastised. but he can’t do anything about it so he takes it out on one of his lackeys. probably through punching
sorry this got a little out of hand, but yeah! i imagine they all know of each other vaguely but meet formally at a grand party for caine’s nameday. if you have any suggestions, anon, i’d love to hear them!
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ddagent · 4 years
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Princess Brienne at a suitor's ball?
Thank you for the prompt, Anon! You all know how much I love a royal AU. I hope you enjoy my spin on it. 
As potential suitors drifted into Evenfall Hall, Brienne of Tarth was struck by a peculiar oddity. The suitors were different: no longer the young men of summer but grizzled soldiers or green squires barely old enough to hold a sword. Evenfall Hall was no less grand in the dying light of the spring day, but it showed the damages of both winter and war. Her father, older now, still sat beside her, smiling. But there would be no Renly Baratheon to save her this time. 
The herald stepped forward. First, he bowed to Brienne and her father. Then, he turned his attention to those who had come for good food, not-so-good wine, and a chance to win one of the many crowns now on offer in Westeros. 
“My lords, my ladies, it is my pleasure to present King Selwyn of House Tarth, first of his name, King of Wind and Sea, and Lord of the Stormlands.” Those assembled bowed to her father. “May I also present—” Even with a crown atop her head, she was an afterthought. “—Princess Brienne of House Tarth, a knight of the Seven Kingdoms.” 
There was a murmur among their guests, and Brienne turned her head sharply in the direction of Ser Podrick, who had joined her father’s Kingsguard despite her insistence that he should remain with Sansa or find a wife or just go home, Podrick, you don’t have to stay by my side forever. But he had. Ser Podrick now stood beside her in blue armour; a sun and moon emblazoned upon his breastplate. He was grinning at the courtier; his face quickly morphing into a solemn expression when he caught her eye. 
“Don’t blame the lad, Little Star,” her father said as they re-took their seats. “You are a knight, after all.”
“And still put on display like chattel.” 
Her father’s lips thinned into a frown, but he said nothing more on the subject. Brienne had voiced her opinion loudly and forcefully already; later taking her frustrations out in the training yard when her father would not see reason. It was Ser Davos, who had joined Brienne and Podrick in returning home from the North, who made her see reason. The Storm Lords didn’t choose your father to be their King, my Lady. They’ve heard the stories; the songs they sing in the taverns from Winterfell to Sunspear. 
They chose you to be their Queen. 
“I shall go...mingle,” Brienne said, drawing herself up to her full height. “Father.”
“Little Star.” 
Brienne descended from the dais. A few couples were already dancing; several of the young lads who Brienne herself could have mothered were well into their cups. Potential suitors circled her as if they were in a melee; sizing up their best approach. She recognised so few faces: second sons had replaced firstborns after the recent perils; young boys who had been at Brienne’s knee when she had departed Tarth now hoped to win her hand. 
“Princess.” 
“Your Highness, you look truly singular tonight.” 
“May I have the honour of your first dance, Princess?
They grew closer, now. No swords or maces or axes in their hands; they used pretty sentiments and pained smiles to wound her. Her father’s crown offered more protection than her last ball, but Oathkeeper would have protected her more. It’s the island they wanted. The lordship. The crown. The kingdom. Not her. Never her. 
You don’t need to die with her. Stay here. Stay with me. I know you don’t–but we could be happy. I believe we could find some happiness together. 
“Brienne.”
Her name cut through the chatter; the band now a mere echo. The other suitors faded away as if they realised they didn’t stand a chance in his presence. After all, who would? Not even the ghost of Renly Baratheon, who lingered in the corner of her mind this night, could stand up to the phantom of the man before her. But he was no longer a phantom. The dark circles under his eyes had disappeared; the ghostly pallor of a winter spent in the North had been replaced by tanned skin from spring at the Sunset Sea. 
“Ser Jaime.” 
He bowed his head. “Lady Brienne.” A wry smile crossed his features. “Apologies. Princess Brienne.” 
Her gaze flicked to the crown atop his head; two roaring lions fighting for dominance at the apex. “I owe you an apology as well, your Grace.”
“No, no.” He shook his head; dark blonde hair brushing his forehead. “Never apologise to me. Never.” 
The band suddenly sprung to life, and the chatter around the room grew even louder. Brienne could pick out keywords – King Jaime, Kingslayer, the Golden King – and at least one boy was whistling The Bear and the Maiden Fair. In the moons since the Second Sack of King’s Landing, various songs had been sung in the inns and taverns of Westeros. Their adventures in Harrenhal had been a surprising favourite. 
“They’re playing our song,” Jaime quipped; his smile instantly falling at Brienne’s severe expression. “Forgive me.”
She huffed an amused snort. “I am offered eternal forgiveness, and yet you ask it repeatedly for yourself.”
“I have more to apologise for.” 
She did not disagree; she knew her words would fall on deaf ears. “Why are you here, Ser–King Jaime?” 
“Tyrion received an invitation from your father. I thought—” 
“—yes?”
Jaime drew in a breath; his eyes wide and alive like they had been the night they had celebrated victory in Winterfell. The night he had been too into his cups, drunkenly held her face in his hands and proclaimed he could drown in her eyes, before falling asleep upon the furs in her bed. That light quickly dimmed. Just like it had the night he had stole away into the darkness to die by his sister’s side, taking Brienne’s heart with him. 
“I thought you could use a friend.”
“Oh.”
“If you still count me as such, of course.” 
Brienne swallowed and offered her hand. “Of course. A future queen needs all the friends she can get.” 
Jaime took her hand in his left and lifted it to his mouth. His lips left a faint kiss across her knuckles; his eyes never leaving hers. “Of course. May I have this dance, my Lady?”
The ghost of Renly Baratheon was exorcised as Jaime Lannister took her in his arms. Few other couples danced around them; marvelled faces watching as two knights moved to the music. Brienne had always been a surprisingly adept dancer; her footwork from the training yard serving her well on the dancefloor. It seemed as if Jaime’s years as a knight served him equally well. 
“You know, I think this is the first time we’ve danced together,” Brienne uttered as the music finished. 
As the band struck up another song, the candlelight turned Jaime’s eyes to wildfire. “No, Brienne. It’s not.”  
55 notes · View notes
justfandomwritings · 5 years
Text
United In Fear (Part Two - Soulmate!Robb)
Pairing: Robb Stark x Reader; Soulmates AU 
Word count: 4.4k
Warnings: literally just chit chat fluff and character building
Summary: The names were the greatest mystery in Westeros. Each kingdom had their own telling of the story. None of the kingdoms could agree on where they were from or how they came to be. Each thought a different god, their own interpretation of religion, was responsible, but all seemed to agree on one thing: they were a gift.
Notes: sooo... I like Tywin Lannister. This is kinda fun I think. Let me know.
Previously On... Part One
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“A Rose of Gold?” (Y/n) scoffed. “Do we look like Tyrell’s to you?”
“I-I,” The bard stuttered over his words, “I could play the Lion and the Lady for you, Lady Lannister.”
A guffaw went up around the group of Lannister soldiers. There was no worse Westerlands song he could have chosen to play for (Y/n) Lannister than the one effectively about how she should not exist.
“Best choose something else,” An older soldier, named Tygett after Tywin’s younger brother, advised.
None of the group who’d come up with (Y/n) from Casterly Rock felt particularly welcome in Winterfell. Every morning since she’d sent word for her father to ride north, (Y/n) had left the keep in the early hours of the morning to join her men in the barracks to break fast; and every night since her father replied that he was on his way with all haste, she had dropped all pretense of social interaction with the Starks or the King’s party and taken all of her meals with her men.
The twenty or so soldiers were camped around a large bonfire behind the stables of Winterfell, as they were every night. The meal was soup, one of the large pots Winterfell’s kitchen had delivered to the barracks for any men not invited to the feast. A few well-placed coins by (Y/n) had managed to get all of the rolls baked for that night’s supper delivered, instead, to the fireside, and some of the North’s musicians who had been displaced by those brought with the King had thought to join the Lannister to earn some gold from them.
“It’s a bit late for lively music. Can we trust you to know the Song of the Seven?” (Y/n) asked the Northmen.
The bard hesitated, “We know to play it, but we keep faith with the old gods so we…”
“Cannot sing it. Yes, I understand.” (Y/n) pushed off the barrel she’d made use of as a chair and walked around the fire to toss a copper to the harpist. “Play it. We will do the singing.”
As the men prepared their instruments, (Y/n) approached one of the squires sitting in the dirt behind the circle of soldiers. “You were the one singing on the journey to the Kingsroad?”
“Yes, my lady?” The young squire looked on confused.
“Well,” She ushered him to get up, “On with you then. I can’t very well sing alone.”
The boy scrambled to his feet and followed the Lady of the Rock into the center of the circle as the notes began to play.
“The Father’s face is stern and strong, he sits and judges right from wrong. He weighs our lives, the short and long, and loves the little children,” The squire took the first verse.
(Y/n) smiled; she was right. The boy could sing. She’d remember that for the journey home. “The Mother gives the gift of life, and watches over every wife. Her gentle smile ends all strife, and she loves her little children.”
The squire traded verses with his Lady, singing the deeper masculine verses to contrast her beautiful harmonies. “The Warrior stands before the foe, protecting us where e'er we go. With sword and shield and spear and bow, he guards the little children.”
“The Crone is very wise and old, and sees our fates as they unfold. She lifts her lamp of shining gold to lead the little children.” Tyrion used to tease her that it was the mention of gold, but (Y/n)’s favorite verse to the common lullaby had always been the verse of the Crone. As a child, she’d loved joining in for the one verse as her brother sang her to sleep.
“The Smith, he labors day and night, to put the world of men to right. With hammer, plow, and fire bright, he builds for little children.”
The squire finished his final solo, and (Y/n) picked up, “The Maiden dances through the sky, she lives in every lover's sigh. Her smiles teach the birds to fly, and gives dreams to little children.”
Together, the pair sang to the men the final verse, “The Seven Gods who made us all, are listening if we should call. So close your eyes, you shall not fall, they see you, little children. Just close your eyes, you shall not fall, they see you, little children.”
Applause went once around the men, more for (Y/n) than the squire. It was applause nonetheles, and from the way the boy was beaming, (Y/n) thought his talents were not often appreciated.
The boy scampered back to his place behind the men, and (Y/n) took up the barrell as her seat once again, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees in a rather unladylike fashion.
The men began discussing another song the pair could sing, mostly calling out for the typical Rains of Castermere. (Y/n) laughed when someone suggested that perhaps the squire could play a bear and let her sing the Bear and the Maiden Fair. The men poked fun at each other, and it wasn’t until their laughter died down that they heard a new voice.
“You are in the North,” All heads around the fire turned except (Y/n)’s. “Our songs aren’t as famous in the South, but given the setting one of them might be appropriate.”
Silence prevailed after his words, and (Y/n) stared straight ahead as she spoke in a low, commanding voice. “Leave us.”
None questioned it. As one, the soldiers rose to their feet and began collecting their things.
“Your name, squire?” (Y/n) called after her singing partner without averting her gaze.
“Podrick Payne, my lady.” The boy bowed in her peripheral vision.
(Y/n) nodded. Ilyn Payne’s kin, she wouldn’t have guessed from his temperament. “Thank you, Podrick. Go with the others.”
Robb Stark didn’t approach until the last of the musicians had blundered away towards the barracks. “You have a beautiful voice.” He said as he picked out the nearest barrell one of her men had been using and rolled it over to her side.
“Thank you, my lord. Many years of lessons would hope I did.”
“I hadn’t thought that part of lessons to become a lady.” Robb noted curiously. “Though in truth, I never paid much attention to what my sisters’ were being taught by their Septa.”
(Y/n) shrugged, not having an answer. “I can’t say, truthfully. I wasn’t educated by a Septa.”
“I thought all future ladies were?”
(Y/n) chuckled to herself and finally looked over to Robb. “And since when did rules start applying to Lannisters?”
Robb smirked and waved a hand to the empty seats around him. “They seemed to follow rules well enough. My father’s men don’t scatter so quickly at my word, let alone my sisters.”
“I’m a Lannister.” (Y/n) sat up off her knees and looked on Robb with all the majesty her entrance to Winterfell had possessed. “We don’t tolerate insubordination in our soldiers or weakness in our leaders.”
Robb diverted his gaze quickly, “I would never dare call a woman who stood up to the King as you did weak.” He knew the bruise was still there, but he was sitting on the wrong side of her to see it. In a way Robb was grateful for that. His first sight of her skin discolored by the hands of his King had been at the noon meal after she returned from sending a raven for her father, and it had infuriated him beyond reason. When the King ordered her brother to escort her to the seat at Robb’s right hand side the damage to her face was in full view. Robb had done the only thing he could to keep himself from leaping for Robert Baratheon; he’d pushed himself from the table and stormed out of the hall to find Jon. No one, not even his mother, tried to stop him.
In truth, Robb had been looking for Jon again when he’d found her by the fire with the soldiers. He hadn’t meant to interrupt, but as far as he knew, (Y/n) hadn’t spoken to anyone but her soldiers and her two brothers since Robert laid hands on her. Robb wanted to know for himself that she was fine.
“It takes very little to stand up to a man like Robert Baratheon,” (Y/n) mused. “All one needs is sufficient anger, sufficient bravery, or sufficient stupidity.”
“And which one are you?” Robb chuckled, “Angry, brave, or stupid?”
“None of those, I suppose. I like to think that I stand up to him because I see him for what he truly is.”
After the encounter, Robb saw Robert Baratheon as many things. “I presume you see him as a tyrant?”
(Y/n) shook her head and sighed, “No, Robert Baratheon isn’t smart enough to be a tyrant. He isn’t smart enough to be a king, yet people believe he is for some ridiculous reason.”
“What is he if not a king?”
“He’s a sheep.” (Y/n) and Robb both turned, and their eyes met for a long moment before (Y/n) looked away. “As Father always says, a lioness doesn’t concern herself with the opinions of sheep, even the King of sheep.”
Robb watched her carefully as her gaze lazed away from his. “I hardly think anyone else would describe that oaf as something so innocent as a sheep.”
“He’s not a sheep because he’s innocent.” (Y/n) corrected. “He’s a sheep because he’s simple and foolish. He thought a title would protect him from laying hands on me, but I am the last person in Westeros any man should want to cross.”
“Because of your father?” Robb looked as though he wanted to laugh. Her father was a man to be noted, but he wasn’t the King. “You think the King respects Tywin Lannister so much?”
(Y/n) had heard that tone once before. Long ago, at the docks in Lannisport, a sailor from the Iron Islands had spoken to her in such a way, long before the Greyjoy Rebellion. He’d laughed when she told him about how smart and powerful her father was and jeered her story of his bravery and honor. (Y/n) had told her father about the sailor, and years later when the Iron Islanders burned the Lannister fleet at Lannisport, her father still remembered. He made her look at every coat of arms from the Iron Islands before they left. House Botley, the flag the sailor’s ship had flown, was burned to the ground.
“It’s not a matter of respect. You’ve met the King.” (Y/n) turned her head around and tilted it up in the dying light of the embers to show him the bruise still coloring her cheek. Her hand pulled aside the collar of her dress to show him her bandaged shoulder, “The King did this, and that is the man your father respects more than any other man in the Seven Kingdoms. So tell me,” (Y/n) waited till Robb met her gaze, “do you? Do you respect the King?”
“No.” Robb kept his eyes on hers, not daring to flash them to her injuries. His fists were already clenching his pants; he didn’t know what more he could do to hold back his anger. “No, I don’t.”
(Y/n) dropped her dress back into place, contemplating whether to continue. Robb was her mate, but Robb was a Stark. She didn’t trust many people, and none of the ones she did trust were Starks. How much could she actually divulge to him without risking her head? Not much, but then again, she doubted anyone would believe she said whatever he repeated, assuming he repeated it. Even if they did, Robert Baratheon had already struck her once. The look in his eyes when he did told her Robert knew better than to do so twice.
“Your father doesn’t respect my father. The King doesn’t respect my father, and for all the gold to my name, to have the disrespect of a man like Robert Baratheon is the greatest honor in the Seven Kingdoms. I pray one day men like him talk about me the way they talk about my father. Not with respect, but with fear. Because men like that deserve to be afraid of someone, and I hope it’s me.”
Robb said nothing because what was there to say.
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He joined her again the next night. Later this time, after the fires had died down and the singing had stopped and her soldiers had left to fall asleep.
“Tell me about him.”
“About who?”
“Your father,” Robb explained. “You don’t speak about him as though you love him, but you certainly admire him. He is important to you. I’d like to understand why.”
(Y/n) chuckled to herself. “I must be the only lady in the Seven Kingdoms who ever has to explain why she cares about her father.”
“I apologize,” Robb immediately began to backtrack. “I meant no offense.”
“None was given.” (Y/n) waved him away, slipping off her usual barrell so she could sit in the dirt and lean back on the wood. “I genuinely find it amusing that you all think my father some heartless beast of a man that no one could ever love and who can love nothing in return when his very life proves that not to be true.”
“You mean Joanna?” Robb wasn’t sure if mentioning Tywin’s first wife was a good idea, but he was curious how it affected her.
(Y/n) hedged at the name, though not in the way Robb thought she would. “Yes and no. She was certainly Tywin’s greatest act of love, but people think he feels nothing with her gone. In truth, he cares deeply about a great many things.”
“Like what?”
“Gold for one,” Robb and (Y/n) laughed together for a moment before a look crossed (Y/n)’s eye again and she felt the need to say, “He does love us all, in his own way.”
“What was his way with you?”
His question was met with nothing but the crackle of the fire and the huffing of horses in the stable behind him. The night air filled with sounds of the North that kept them from complete silence, but that didn’t calm the tension that suddenly gripped Robb’s chest. He wasn’t sure if he’d asked the wrong question or simply a hard one to answer, but given what he knew of his mate so far, he doubted very strongly any question was too hard for (Y/n) to answer.
Robb’s eyes darted down every few moments to where (Y/n) sat on the cold earth. Her eyes twinkled reflections of flames as she stared into the fire, but there was not even a twitch to her gaze when a spark danced out of the flames and died only a step from her feet. She was looking, but she wasn’t seeing. Wherever (Y/n)’s mind had gone, it wasn’t Winterfell.
“If I’ve caused you any discomfort…”
“I never knew my mother.” (Y/n) spoke over him as if she hadn’t realized he was speaking. Robb wondered if she ever registered that he was still there. “I barely knew the twins growing up. The only people I had at the Rock were Tyrion and Tywin, and Tyrion, while a wonderful brother, was still a child himself and had his own difficulties plaguing him. The moment I was out of the nursery, all of the maids and septas and nurses were gone. My every waking hour was spent at my father’s feet.”
The idea of Tywin Lannister caring so intimately for a child was disturbing with every notion Robb had of the man, and he found himself shifting uncomfortable on his makeshift stool as he tried to grapple with the idea.
“In meetings with his council, I would be sat in a chair playing with dolls. He taught me to ride a horse while heading out to deal with bandits on the Gold Road. I learned to read by peering over his shoulder at the ledgers of the Rock.” A fond smile pulled the corner of (Y/n)’s lips. “He was as strict and harsh as you imagine, but he was always fair.”
(Y/n) turned then, turned her whole body around to face Robb, as if she needed to be sure he heard her every word perfectly clearly. “He did not raise me to be just anyone. He raised me to be him. You see, my father did not raise me to be some poor beggar’s wife, because I was not supposed to beg. He did not raise me to fall for the first knight in shining armor who rode to my rescue, because I did not need anyone to rescue me. I was never going to work as handmaiden to another lady like any unmarried second daughter would, because I was not going to bow in service to any house. I wasn’t even raised to be the wife of a lord, especially a Lord Paramount and Warden as you.”
Therein lied their problem. Robb could have guessed from her earlier rejections that Tywin did not raise (Y/n) to marry him, not that he would have guessed Tywin raised her. The Lannisters’ influence was evident in her every word, but from the tales, Tywin didn’t seem the fatherly type. Robb just assumed the similarities were a familial trait.
“You can ask.”
“What?” Robb looked on with a heavy crease in his brow that reminded (Y/n) of the constantly heavy appearance of his father. It didn’t suit Robb’s lighter feature the way it suited Ned Stark’s. Robb shared too much of his mother.
“Why. You can ask why. I know you’ve wanted to since I stepped in that room with your parents and the King.”
She was right. It had been the one thing eating at him. Robb liked to think he was good looking enough, kind enough, strong enough. He would be one of the four Wardens one day. Her father already controlled the West.  Jon Arryn’s son in the East was far too young. It only left Robb or Doran Martell’s son. The Martell’s were certainly richer, but their lands and armies were much smaller. More than that, they despised the Lannisters even more than his father. The only hope (Y/n) could have for a better match than Robb Stark was Crown Prince Joffrey himself. Still, he was her nephew, and Robert already intended him for Sansa. Being her soulmate, baring her name on his arm, should have been an afterthought.
“Why?” Robb didn’t hesitate to pose the question.
“Because my father raised me to be him in all things.”
Robb took a second longer than he probably should have before his eyes widened. “You can’t honestly mean…”
“Jaime is sworn to hold no lands, and Cersei is the queen. In a perfect kingdom, I would have been born a son, but even as a daughter, he still prefers me to Tyrion.”
“You’re the heir to the Rock.” Robb said in disbelief. “The Warden of the West.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not possible.” He murmured, more to himself than her, as he lowered his head to staring at the ground in complete shock.
(Y/n) couldn’t hold back as her eyes rolled in her head. “I assure you it is.”
“How?”
“Cerelle Lannister already set the precedent. She was an only child at the age of three when Tybolt died, and the Rock fell to her by way of a regent. She did not live to maturity to rule for herself, but she allowed for female inheritance.”
“Even if you discount your twin siblings, Tyrion is a male and your elder.” Robb insisted on pointing out.
(Y/n) nodded, “Yes, but he does not want the damned thing, thinks I’m better suited to it anyhow. Once I marry, he’ll recuse himself from the line of succession, and I will be left as the last alternative.”
“Won’t your uncle object?” Robb motioned up towards the keep. “He has sons; does he not? Robert Baratheon’s squire. Surely he would expect to be the next heir.”
“Kevan knows of all of this, and he does not object. That is rather the point.” (Y/n) referred back to her earlier ramblings, “I was raised for this, made for this, born for this. In the Westerlands, they already know not to question me. They know I am my father’s daughter in every way. It’s only a matter of time before the rest of Westeros falls in line, and it begins with Robert Baratheon.”
“When he struck you?” Robb bit out.
(Y/n) ground her teeth, “Yes, not how I intended to acquaint myself with our king, but since it has happened, it will have to serve a purpose.” A smirk pulled at the corner of her lips, pulling away the noise of her teeth rubbing together, “I am a Lannister after all, and I now owe the King a debt.”
“Why are you telling me all of this?” In honesty, it probably should have occurred to Robb to ask sooner. His mate or not, she was a Lannister, as she loved to remind him.
(Y/n) pondered the question for a moment. “I don’t really know,” she confessed. “Under normal circumstances, there would be no reason to reject a match to you, but these aren’t normal circumstances. Maybe it’s that you deserve to know what the circumstances are. I suppose you have a right to know these things. They aren’t just things about me, after all. They are about us.”
“I suppose there’s no hope for a change of circumstances?” Robb smiled to try to lighten the mood. The expression on both of their faces had quickly turned sullen, and he didn’t want what little time he had with his soulmate to be wasted dwelling on dark memories. He would never know her the way he wanted to, but he could at least know her as a friend.
“Only if you’re willing to forsake your inheritance, remove your sigil, leave your family, and follow me to Casterly Rock where you and your children will be known as Lannisters and never be allowed to bear the name Stark?” It was a rather blunt answer, but she said it in such a teasingly optimistic tone that it only lightened the mood further with amusement.
“No,” Robb smirked. “I don’t suppose I would. Perhaps you would turn your back on your father, give up becoming the most powerful woman in Westeros, force Tyrion to become heir to the Rock, leave your gold and all your other lavish Southern possessions and join me in the cold, barren North for the boring life of an incredibly traditional lady?”
Part of him hoped she would say yes, but he wasn’t surprised when she responded with a tinkling laugh of, “No. I don’t suppose I would.”
“Shame,” he smiled to himself. “Perhaps I shall pray to the old gods that my father and the King manage to steal you out from under the lion’s paw by distracting him with something shiny.”
(Y/n) playfully rolled her eyes at him. Her tone was one of fake exasperation, “Perhaps I shall pray to the new gods that Ned Stark doesn’t wet himself when my father arrives or all hope of convincing Tywin to rob Winterfell of its heir will be ruined by his impression of your family.”
The image of his father being scared by anyone’s arrival in their home was amusing enough, but the image of Lord Tywin Lannister dressed head to toe in gold, wiping another man’s piss of his boots was almost too much for Robb. Within a few moments, Robb’s loud guffaw sent both of them into a fit of laughter that was far too loud given the time of night. It ceased rather suddenly only one a loud whinny went up from the stables behind them to sign the horses’ discontent.
“He can’t truly have enough power to work such a thing, even with the help of gods.” Robb’s tone was still light, but there was an underlying question to it that (Y/n) immediately picked up on. He’d never been to the South. He’d never been to royal court, so he didn’t really know the answer to his unspoken question outside of tall tales. How much power did Tywin Lannister truly wield?
“For decades, a Targaryen wore the crown and wielded all the power in Westeros, while my father sat on the Iron Throne and kept the Kingdoms running as their Hand. Now the roles have reversed. Robert Baratheon and his man of choice might sit on the Iron Throne. They might run the Seven Kingdoms, but they know where the crown, where the power, truly lies.”  
“Seven Kingdoms united in fear of Tywin Lannister.” Robb repeated the famous saying. “I don’t think you’ll find the North afraid.”
“Only because you haven’t met him yet,” (Y/n) smiled to herself. “If they don’t fear him when he arrives, they will by the time he leaves, just as they do everywhere else.”
(Y/n) pushed herself to her feet. She took a moment to brush her skirts back down into position and rid them of any obvious dirt. Then, Robb watched her turn and walk away, calling back over her shoulder, “When you see Lannister banners on the horizon of Winterfell tomorrow, watch the King.”
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The banners of House Lannister broke the horizon, signifying the approach of the Warden of the West.
The only thought in Robert’s mind was that this would surely be the day he died. Robert might be a fool, but he wasn’t so mad as Aerys to think that Tywin Lannister ever truly came in peace.
Tywin had taken the lives of every man, woman, and child from two of the Westerlands’ richest and oldest houses, and he had done so with a smile. All over some gold that was a drop in the bucket to House Lannister’s riches. Tywin had sacked King’s Landing and slaughtered the royal family, including his oldest friend, because Aerys forced him to remarry a beautiful young woman. Slights by comparison to Robert’s offense.
Robert Baratheon had struck the Lady of Casterly Rock, Tywin’s daughter and youngest child, in front of her mate, the Heir to Winterfell no less. She still bore the bruise.
At the least, Tywin would have his offending hand. At the worst, he would end Robert’s dynasty. Robert feared both were within the Lannister’s grasp.
As (Y/n) had told him to do, Robb watched his namesake. Robert Baratheon was a large man and a warrior at heart. He had long grown fat and let himself go with the pressures of the crown and the grief of his loss, but that hadn’t made him any less the man who killed Rhaegar Targaryen.
Robb thought Robert was not one to be easily intimidated, but as he watched, he saw the Baratheon’s stern face begin to crack. He saw what (Y/n) had sent him searching for. Fear. The King of the Seven Kingdoms was afraid of Tywin Lannister.
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Taglist:
Forever Taglist: 
@maybe-a-fangurl / @libbymouse /
United in Fear Taglist: 
@wonderboygenius / @bluestaratsunrise / @lost-my-sanity / @megzdoodle / @redroomassassin / @trickstersteve / @loveofshows / @htariq / @savingprivatecass / @sharktooothfairy / @emotionallysalty / @hi-there-x / @iamaferitale / @stylesamour / @kaylathekittykat225 / @kai-by / @brittanymcsharry / @supernaturalonice / @balbigalum / @purrfectowl / @santa-feigh / @cassiopeia-barrow / @fallfrxmgrace / @quickies-with-quicksilver / @v0idbella / @the-soulless-spider / @batmansbanana / @frozenhuntress67 / @brynthebulldozer and I’m assuming @scarhades, you will want to be tagged in this lol 
If you’re listed under United in Fear taglist and would like to be tagged in all Game of Thrones fics please reply to this to specify that. Otherwise, I’ll leave it be. 
1K notes · View notes
calpalirwin · 4 years
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Betrothed
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Summary: Lady Keira finds herself betrothed to Lord Ashton.
A/N: Last part of my Game of Thrones AU. Be sure to read parts 1 and 2!
Content: Medieval stuffs.
Word Count: 2.3k
And away, and away we go!
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Part 3
“My lady!” Ashton’s squire burst into the dining hall, breathless. Ashton had been knighted the evening after their arrival at Riverton in preparation for the wedding and subsequent acquisition of title as Lord and Lady of House Irwin, and as such had been given a squire.
“Yes, Bryen?” Keira asked, smiling softly at him. She had spent her first week studying the people closest to her and Ashton, and that meant Bryen Hawthorne. He was a young lad of barely fifteen, but the boy was more than eager to prove his value to his lord by doing every task at a literal run. She’d grown accustomed to his smiling face and the way shocks of his black hair would flop about when he nodded too fast at a request before dashing off with a quick “Right away, my lord.”
“Lord. Ashton,” he panted as he caught his breath, “is requesting your presence. He’s down in the training yard.”
Keira pushed back her chair, rising to her feet. “The training yard?” she wondered aloud.
“Said something about a surprise, my lady. And that I should send for you at once.”
The lady chuckled. “That man and his surprises.”
~~~
She followed Bryen out to the training yard where Ashton was conversing with three other men she had come to learn were set to become his small council. “M-my lord,” Bryen stammered, both announcing his arrival with Keira and interrupting the conversation at hand.
Ashton’s head snapped to attention, the markings of a scowl ready to lecture his squire for not waiting for a break in the conversation. The scowl however, turned quickly into a grin as he took notice of Keira. “Ah, thank you, Bryen. Keira, you remember Lords Calum, Luke, and Michael, yes?”
“My lords,” she curtsied in greeting.
“My lady,” they chorused, bowing back.
“Bryen spoke of a surprise?” she asked Ashton.
“Yes. Michael, if you would.”
Michael, set to become Ashton’s lead general, turned towards the table that was usually home to an assortment of dull practice weapons, but today housed a single shortsword and two matching daggers. The green-eyed blonde picked up the shortsword and offered it to her.
Keira gasped as the weight dropped in her hand, expecting it to clatter on the dusty ground. Instead, she found the blade to be light and balanced, like it was crafted just for her hand. The pieces finally clicked together as she recalled Ashton’s mention of teaching her how to fight, and his hushed conversations with the blacksmith and master-at-arms. “It’s not too heavy is it? I had the daggers made in case it was. Or we could try another weapon if you find none of this suits you. I just remember you admiring my own sword and dagger that I thought you might like some of your own.” The words tumbled from Ashton’s mouth as his cheeks flushed and his friends held back their laughter at his apparent embarrassment.
She tried her best to move her arms the way she had seen Ashton do so when he trained, causing all four men to jump back and out of her way as the blade sliced through the air.
“Oi!” Calum exclaimed, looking over at Ashton to see if he would step in before his friends got hacked to bits by accident.
“It’s dull, right mate?” Luke asked, his blue eyes sharp as they focused on the sword’s wild movements.
“Stance and technique needs work,” Michael critiqued.
“Careful not to nick anybody. I had it sharpened this morning,” Ashton warned her.
Calum, Luke, and Michael jumped further away. “You gave an inexperienced swordsman a sharp blade?!” they thundered.
Ashton howled with laughter as Keira continued to test the weight, liking the feel of it more and more with each pass. “How’s it feel?” he asked, while his friends continued to glare at him and question his sanity.
“I expected it to be heavier,” she answered. 
“A good sword matches the strength of the one weilding it. Too heavy and you won’t be able to use it. Too light and it’ll fly from your hand, leaving you unarmed,” Michael told her.
“Precisely,” Ashton nodded at Michael’s words. “Focus, Keira. You want it to feel like an extension of your arm.”
She closed her eyes and made a few more small passes, really paying attention to the weight of it as it moved with her. “It feels…” she started, pausing to find the right way to phrase herself. “Like I’m passing my hand through water. No resistance.”
Ashton was smiling at her when she opened her eyes again. “Perfect. That’s exactly what I was hoping for. Ready for your first lesson?”
~~~
“Sideface!” Michael directed from beside Keira. “You make yourself a much smaller target that way and your opponent has to work that much harder. As the less skilled fighter, your advantage is in the long game. Tire them out.”
She shifted her feet and lunged at Ashton. He effortlessly blocked her attack, knocking the weapon from her hands. He had been practicing with her for the better part of three weeks now, with Michael coaching her from the side. Being her practice partner had three benefits for Keira. One: no one dared question what the lord was doing parrying with his lady. Two: while he trusted Michael to coach and direct Keira, he only trusted himself to partner up with her, which meant she she got to spend a lot of uninterrupted time with Ashton. Which lead to three: she had all the time in the world to admire the way he held the practice shield and blunt practice sword, while imaging how handsome he looked in his full set of armor. “Also focus on keeping your face blank. You twist your mouth at the edges and your eyebrows furrow. I know your attack before you even move,” Ashton chided with a playful smile.
Keira felt her chest heave with her breaths as she forced her face to relax. Her eyes darted to where her sword lay in the dust and back at Ashton who followed her movements. She knew he would allow her to reach for the sword and then go in for an attack with another quip about not letting her guard down. Another steady breath and she remembered the daggers at her side. She fought back the grin, and with her eyes locked on Ashton, she reached for the sword. He moved with her and the shield dropped ever so slightly in preparation for her sword. In a blink, she changed her course, reaching for her daggers, placing one up against his ribcage and the other pressing into the base of his throat. Ashton dropped his shield and sword, raising his hands in surrender as he backed away. “Yield,” he told her, smiling proudly while Michael laughed his approval, “Good one, my lady.”
“Now if only I could find my own handsome lord to teach me to fight like that,” a dreamy sigh spoke and Keira whirled around to find Lilliyan Malver resting her arms along the fenced yard, admiring Calum as he practiced with Luke a few paces away.
“Lilliyan!” Keira rushed over to wrap her friend in a hug. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!”
The other lady laughed as she returned the embrace. “Well, I couldn’t very well miss your wedding now, could I? Although, you could have warned me that you had such a handsome council.”
“My lords, might I introduce you all to Lady Lilliyan of House Malver,” Keira began and Calum and Luke stopped their battle to come join the ladies along with Ashton and Michael. “These are Lords Calum, Luke, and Michael. And you’ve already met Lord Ashton.”
“My lady,” the men bowed and Lilliyan curtsied in kind.
“I trust you had a pleasant journey?” Ashton asked.
“Yes, the view was wonderful riding up. Although not nearly as good as the view inside your walls, Lord Ashton,” Lilliyan replied, her eyes still fixed on Calum. “Keira tells me you’re on the small council?”
“Lady Keira would be correct,” Calum nodded.
“Yes, I remember now,” Lilliyan smiled flirtatiously. “The married off lead general, Michael Clifford. The master of coin, and betrothed, Luke Hemmings. And Lord Ashton’s right hand man, Calum Hood, who still has yet to find a lady of his own. Pity… Say, Keira, would you happen to know of any eligible ladies who might be suited for such a handsome bachelor such as Lord Calum?”
Keira smiled brightly, playing along with her friend’s game. “Why yes. Matter of fact, word has it that Lord Malver is looking for a match for his eldest daughter.”
“Well it might be in Calum’s best interest if he were to send Father a raven, expressing his interest. Do you think he would teach me to fight like your lord does?”
“Oi!” Calum scoffed at Ashton. “Training all the ladyfolk now, are we?”
“Afraid you’ll get bested?” Luke teased.
“I’m sure Michael has much more pressing duties to attend to,” Calum deflected.
“She’s quite good with a bow,” Keira boasted.
“I’d pay my weight in gold to see Calum get bested by a bow,” Michael marveled at the thought.
“You’d be wise to consider it, Calum,” Ashton told the man. “It’s a relief on the mind to know that your lady is always in capable hands- her own. Plus, who better to learn from than by a skilled archer like yourself?”
“My lord, you flatter me,” Calum said with biting sarcasm and a roll of his eyes. “Alright, someone fetch Lady Lilliyan a bow.”
“And perhaps your writing material as well?” Keira pressed.
“Yes, yes. That too.”
~~~
“You look beautiful, Keira,” Ashton murmured low for only Keira to hear as he wrapped the cloak around her shoulders.
She didn’t have time to respond as the septon continued with the ceremony, so she merely smiled, hoping that Ashton understood the thought she wasn’t speaking. Which was that he too, looked as handsome as ever in his long sleeved, forest green overcoat that highlighted the green flecks in his eyes, and was fastened shut with golden clasps that glistened in the afternoon light.
“Look upon each other and say the words.”
“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger,” they spoke in unison. “I am yours, and you are mine, from this day, until the end of my days.”
“With this kiss,” Ashton continued, “I pledge my love.” His lips were soft as they pressed against hers, and while the kiss was brief, she felt the power behind it, like he was willing her to believe that they could be more than an arrangement.
~~~
Keira was watching the crowd enjoy the feast, particularly amused by Calum and Lillyan’s growing affections. “Think they’re all distracted enough that we might sneak away?” Ashton’s voice was low in her ear.
“What about the bedding ceremony?” she asked, feeling a knot in her stomach tighten at the very concept. While she certainly planned to consummate her marriage to her new husband, the idea of it being public knowledge was unsettling.
Ashton waved a hand dismissively. “There will be no ceremony. Our chambers are adjoined should you ever wish to spend your night elsewhere, as it were.”
“Mmm, so that’s where that door leads,” she teased. She had already known about this fact, having explored every inch of her room in the early morning after her arrival, and reveling in the fact that one door had opened to reveal another bedchamber, with Ashton sleeping soundly.
“Something tells me you already knew that though,” he teased back, having caught her on more than one occasion admiring him from the doorway when she thought him to be asleep.
“Perhaps I’ll find my way there.”
“Perhaps I’ll be waiting when you do.”
“And where do you propose we sneak off to now?”
“I hear the beach is lovely this time of day.”
~~~
“I know I mentioned it already, but you really do look beautiful,” he confessed as the water rushed over their bare feet, soaking the edges of their clothes.
“And you look quite handsome yourself, Ashton. More so than usual,” she returned the compliment.
“Ah, so you do think me to be handsome.”
“Among other things.”
Hmm? How do you mean?”
“You mentioned once that you don’t wish for this to be a matter of business. That it hardly seemed fair that our marriage should be viewed as another duty to attend to.”
“Yes. I believe I also mentioned that I only wish for you to be content here, and that I enjoy your company. But what does that have to do with how you think of me?”
“It has everything to do with how I think of you. It is one thing to say you wish for me to be content. It is another to consistently go out of your way to ensure it. And from showing me this beach to probably defying everyone close to you in order to both craft me my own set of weapons and then teach me how to use them… well it shows me that you're a man of your word. A quality I greatly admire.”
“A man is only as good as his word.”
“That may be so. The point remains however, that I long had little interest in being a lady because I envied those who got to marry for love.”
“And has your interest since changed?”
“Very much so. See, I found myself betrothed to a lord with much to offer in terms of prestige and title. And while he easily could have been a stubborn lord who viewed his lady as a mere plaything meant to please him, that wasn’t the what happened. In addition to being charming and handsome, he is kind and wise. Any lady would be a fool not to love him. And, I’m no fool, Ashton.”
Rather than speak, he decided to let his actions do the talking as he ducked his head to kiss her, much like he had before at the ceremony. This time though, his arms wrapped around her lower back, holding her tightly as her eyes fluttered shut and she melted into him. Fuck duty, they both thought, love was far better.
__
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rubberchickeny · 5 years
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Jaime/Brienne prompt in ASOIAF (book) verse!
I wanted to stretch my writing muscles and do a prompt in the ASOIAF universe rather than GoT or mod AU. I likeblue prompted me with first kiss and defending honor, and I of course used the opportunity to write Hyle Hunt. If there is one thing I want from Winds, it’s to see how Jaime meets Hyle. 
And yes, the whole business of Lady Stoneheart is crammed into a couple of paragraphs. (Now there’s a writing exercise for you!
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On with the show:
Honor and virtue
Ser Hyle Hunt was certainly aware of Brienne of Tarth’s journey through the Riverlands with the Kingslayer.  Ser Hyle had personally heard the given name of the Kingslayer come out of Brienne’s too wide mouth when her near festering cheek wound had her fevered and delusional.  The brotherhood without banners had called her the Kingslayer’s whore.
’Another case of Renly,’ he had thought. What else could he deduce when the said man was the handsomest in Westeros and the maid known far and wide as one of the ugliest. ’Brienne the Beauty’ they had called her, and Hyle had taken part, once. T’was nothing but the truth, after all. He did not think Lannister had had a true taste of her, but even if he had, that made no difference to him. Maybe another disappointment like that would sweeten the value of his proposal.
The proposal he had made to Brienne before they encountered the brotherhood had been a good, honest deal, for both of them. Hyle respected Brienne enough to not insult her with pretty words better used on prettier maids. Brienne knew the truth, and what Hyle was offering was amiable partnership. He would get to be the husband of the next Evenstar of Tarth, and she would gain the respectability of a husband and the freedom to keep wearing a man’s mail. Hyle had no interest in ruling over Tarth or over his wife; he was happy to be a consort and someday have his child rule Tarth.
The maid should appreciate his genuine offer of the marriage bed as well, Hyle thought. She wasn’t likely to get other, respectable offers. Ser Hyle was not bad looking, and he could tolerate her well enough. Of course the lady had not said yes yet, but Ser Hyle knew it was just a matter of time until she saw sense.
If she ever got the chance.
Ser Hyle had lost the track of time since Brienne of Tarth had left both Ser Hyle and her young squire to the hands of the brotherhood without banners and went to retrieve the Kingslayer. The maid was stubborn to a fault, but even Hyle had been surprised when she had been ready to let herself hang for the sake of protecting a Lannister. It was only the act of starting to hang Pod that had changed her mind. Sadly Podrick was not faring very well, but he tried to stay brave for his ”ser lady” that was coming back for them.
In hindsight Ser Hyle might have suspected, but the unpleasant truth was that while he didn’t see Brienne as entirely unbecoming, he found it impossible to believe a man like Lannister could find her comely.  A man like Jaime Lannister had to have had more than his fair share of offers, bound by oath to celibacy or not. Why would he be interested in a maid like Brienne of Tarth?
====
Jaime Lannister had known something was wrong when he let Brienne lead him away. The Wench could not lie to save her life, and as hard as she might try to feign it, Jaime could see she had been hurt badly, and the movements she made were unnatural and stilted. The first time she was forced to remove the dirty bandage off her cheek he had been shocked despite himself.
”That isn’t…is that a human bite, Lady Brienne?” he had asked, trying to appear calmer than he really felt.
 What had he send her to, and what all had been done to her? Had someone succeeded in that which many had failed, and gotten her virtue, as well? He didn’t want to risk hurting her more by asking, but he had to know if he had failed her in this, too. The memory of how much Pia had changed between his two visits to Harrenhal was still fresh in his mind, and he thanked the Maiden when Brienne finally managed to answer him no.
After a two days journey they finally reached their destination.
When Jaime saw what had once been Catelyn Stark and was now Lady Stoneheart, he was truly speechless for perhaps the first time in his life.  Life had been cruel to Catelyn and her family, and by the looks of her, death had been no kinder. This was not the high born lady that Brienne had served, but a cold, vengeful wraith set on bringing pain to everyone who had ever dreamed of hurting her or her family.
There had been an attempt at a trial, and it had not surprised Jaime when Brienne offered to be his champion in a trial by combat. Lady Stoneheart was spitting mad, wheezing that Brienne of Tarth had once been her sword and now she had given away her honor and virtue and loyalty for the likes of the Kingslayer.
The fight turned into a blood bath. If Lady Stoneheart’s own hadn’t turned against her, they both would have surely died. The one they called Thoros of Myr had changed the tide of the battle, and instead of dead on the battlefield, the Wench was now bleeding while an ill looking young boy tried to staunch the flow.
”So this is the Kingslayer. The man you were willing to let us all die for.”
The words came from another prisoner of Lady Stoneheart’s who had survived the chaos by joining the fight. He had brown hair and eyes, and a bleeding nose. Jaime found it impossible to tell if his nose had been as crooked and swollen before the fight broke out, as his overall appearance was quite battered.
The boy tending to the Wench’s wounds looked at the other man with clear anger coming off of him in waves.
“Ser—Lady Brienne came back for us. She saved you!”
“It’s fine, Pod,” Brienne calmed the boy down with a steady, heavy hand on his shoulder. The boy continued his work in silence, but seemed mollified.
The other man did not let down, however.
“I always knew you liked a pretty face, Brienne, but surely not Jaime Lannister.”
Jaime was getting enough of this man with no manners. “Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”
“I am Ser Hyle Hunt. I know the lady well.”
Jaime said nothing, waiting for Brienne to acknowledge the situation and explain her relationship to this insolent man.
She did not.
Ser Hyle continued, “I made a fair offer of marriage, but she would rather do the same as she did with Renly and just moon at your beautiful face from afar. Because that’s what will happen, Brienne.”
This was news to Jaime. Brienne looked embarrassed. Jaime knew of course of the three broken betrothals, but he had never much considered any new proposals coming her way. She was the future Evenstar, so naturally there would be many hedge knights ready to deal with much worse than her for a chance at that, even with the war raging on and the future of Tarth undetermined.
“You are speaking to a high born Lady, Ser.” Jaime ground out.
“I am speaking to the lady who the brotherhood called the Kingslayer’s whore. A roll in the hay is all you’re going to get from him, Brienne, when I’m the one—“
Suddenly Ser Hyle was down on the ground, holding his nose which was spouting fresh blood.
“Do not call him the Kingslayer in my presence ever again.” Brienne enunciated slowly, “Without him you would not be alive. He has never besmirched my honor, which is more than can be said for you.”
Despite the less than ideal circumstances Jaime felt quite pleased, but he could not let go of what the Wench had said.
“What do you mean he has besmirched your honor?”
Knowing Jaime and sensing the danger, Brienne refused to explain further, saying only that what was past was in the past. Still, Jaime wanted to make sure this Ser Hyle knew where he stood. He crouched over to Hyle and said quietly, “I better not hear of this again. I take care of what’s mine, and we Lannisters always pay our debts.”
As he got up, he continued, “You might start looking for another wench to woo. This one is spoken for.”
Ser Hyle all but sputtered as Jaime yanked Brienne close to his chest and kissed her, bleeding and all.
The kiss was intense; fierce but sweet just like the Wench herself, and if Jaime was lucky Brienne would not hit him for taking liberties on her person once they were done. Jaime could taste her blood but he did not mind; they were warriors and they were alive. In fact, it was kissing Brienne that made him feel so alive; like he was still a young man, a man who could do anything! Even become a better man.
Once they came out for air, Brienne did not hit him, but yanked him back and kissed him in turn. It was fumbling and glorious and gave him goose bumps all over.
If Jaime had had a thought to spare, he might have noticed Pod happily grinning at a sour looking Ser Hyle.
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Heart of Steel - VII
Description: Sir James is known throughout the lands as the most fearsome and honorable warrior. Ballads have been written about him. Men fear him. He is the most trusted knight of the King Henry. So why has he given up the glories of war and pledged his loyalty to Princess Y/N?
Pairing: Medieval AU -Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader
Word Count: 3,129
Series Masterlist
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Steve waited patiently for the princess in the royal courtyard. His small kings guard and the people of Zamora that Y/N requested to accompany her were all ready to take the journey.
But when Y/N finally arrived, Steve did a double take.
Y/N was dressed in a black dress, much more modest than was expected in Zamora. On top of it was a white cloak that brought out the color of her hair and eyes. She looked like a white witch who even the bravest would not face.
Someone must have informed Y/N of the colder temperatures in Midgard.
Peter stepped forward with Moon’s reigns in his hands. The horse tried nipping at Peter multiple times and stomped his hooves in irritation from being handled by anyone other than Y/N.
Steve walked over as he saw Y/N approaching her horse. “We have prepared the carriage for the journey, Y/N.” He explained.
Y/N eyed the carriage almost with an condescending smirk. Then she mounted her stallion as Bucky stood next to her and held Moon in place, making sure she didn’t need help.
“Have you ever traveled in a carriage, Steven?” Y/N asked as she looked down at him from her steed.
He chuckled, knowing where she was going. “No, I cannot say I have.”
“Well, then you could not possibly understand the discomfort of it. I will be riding horseback to Midgard.” She replied, leaving no room for argument.
“It is a long journey, Y/N.” It was Steve’s last attempt at convincing her.
“Do not fret, Your Majesty. I hear there is a carriage if you should tire.”
Steve gave her an amused glare and glanced at Bucky, who didn’t even bother hiding his smirk from his princess’ sass.
But suddenly Moon decided this strange man was too close for his liking. He stomped his foot, clawing at the cobblestones beneath him, before he reared his two front hooves off the ground.
Steve jumped back to avoid getting kicked in the face. His stomach dropped in panic when he expected Y/N to be thrown off her horse. But she remained calm and handled her horse magnificently. She brought him back down to all fours and whispered calming words into his ear as she pet his neck.
Then she looked over at Steve as if to scold him like a misbehaved child. “You scared him. He is not the friendliest of beasts. You must keep your distance, unless you want him to stomp on your foot or nip at your face.”
“I scared him?” Steve asked, finding her statement ridiculous.
“He does not like strangers.” Bucky added as he raised an eyebrow to Steve.
Steve just nodded and walked away to mount his own horse.
Y/N looked at her knight with a smile. “You are cruel.” She let out a laugh.
“I was merely telling the truth,” Bucky shrugged innocently as he squeezed his heels into Persephone’s sides and urged her into a walk.
“I have never been to Midgard before! This shall be so exciting!” Peter trotted up, now on his own horse.
Bucky glared at his squire. “Why did you allow him to come again?” He asked Y/N.
“His excitement alone. Is it not contagious, Sir James? Maybe you should try it sometime.” Y/N teased.
“Tis annoying.” Bucky grumbled.
“If you continue behaving like a curmudgeon, I shall leave you alone with him for this entire journey.” Y/N threatened with a mischievous smile.
Bucky whipped his head at her. “You would not dare…”
Y/N threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, I would, Sir James.”
Bucky just shook his head, hiding that he actually enjoyed when they bantered like this.
Then Y/N’s gaze fluttered to the front of the party and saw Steve in a serious discussion with Natasha and another one of his knights.
“What do you supposed they are talking about?” She asked Bucky curiously.
He followed her gaze. “They are preparing for war with Hydra,” he answered honestly.
Y/N didn’t seem surprised by the truth. “Is it true what they say? Is he the greatest captain who has ever had a throne?”
Bucky glanced at her. “I have not seen it firsthand. But the man has never lost a battle. His father raised him well in the art of war.”
Y/N’s gaze darkened. “When the inevitable war comes, will you fight?” It was a silly question to ask. After all, she was his superior and only her father or Anthony to give Bucky commands over her own.
“I will if my princess orders it.” Bucky answered robotically.
“That is not what I asked.” Y/N retorted.
“Do you wish for me to fight as I once did?” He then countered. 
“No, I do not.” Y/N snapped back. “I wish for you to remain at my side, where I know you are safe.”
“But Bucky is the greatest knight to have ever lived!” Peter interrupted. “No man shall ever kill him!”
“All men are mortal, Peter.” Bucky corrected him. “The knight you speak of is just legend. He does not exist.” Then he switched his attention back to Y/N. “If the kingdom is at risk, then I will go to war, whether Your Highness wishes it or not.”
“I feared you would say that.” Y/N muttered.
“Knights are meant to die in battle, Your Highness… not from old age.” Peter tried to explain softly.
“Men worry about dying a glorious and honorable death more than they care about living.” Y/N mumbled in slight annoyance.
Bucky clenched his jaw, feeling guilt in his chest from the truth of Y/N’s words.
But she wasn’t finished yet. “There is more to a man than his skill on the battlefield. Taking life after life does not make thee a stronger or better man.” Y/N muttered, almost bitterly.
Peter seemed surprised by her words and looked to Bucky for some form of affirmation.
Y/N caught the exchange. “Has Sir James only taught you the murderous skills of knighthood and said nothing of chivalry, Peter?” She chided playfully.
Bucky glared at her. 
But Peter looked panicked, now believing he was behind on his lessons.
“Then I can only imagine he has yet to teach you matters of the heart, as well.” Y/N added with mischief in her gaze.
“A knight has no time for love!” Peter cried out childishly. Then he smiled and blushed, “Well… except for the type of love that has the maidens leaving Sir James’ room late into the night.” The squire let out a cackle.
Y/N’s eyes burned into Bucky, but her expression held no emotion.
It was worse that he couldn’t read what she was feeling or thinking.  
“Young Peter,” Y/N changed the subject smoothly, as if she hadn’t found out about Bucky’s women. “If you truly believe knights are above the turmoils of love, then I suppose the rumors of your infatuation with one of my ladies-in-waiting are false.”
Peter turned bright read at the accusation. “I…I have n-no idea what you speak of, Your Highness.”
“Is that so?” Y/N smiled, but it didn’t shine as bright as usual. “Then you would have no interest in Lady Mary Jane? I heard her speaking about you in court the other day…” But before Peter could ask or take back his fake disinterest, Y/N whistled at Moon and rode to the front of the party.
“Was she kidding?” Peter asked with a dazed look on his face.
Bucky didn’t even hear his question. He whipped the end of his reigns at Peter’s horse, startling the poor thing. It reared up on its hind legs, completely catching Peter off guard. The squire fell backwards and out of his saddle. He hit the ground hard and mud caked his back.
Peter looked up at his knight in shock. “What was that for?”
Bucky circled Persephone back, leaving the party’s line to glare down at his squire.
“If you ever unmask intimate details of my life again, it will be a broken bone next time.” His voice was even and deep. Somehow it was more terrifying than him raising his voice.
“I apologize, Sir James. I thought it was nothing.” Peter gasped, still on the ground.
“You did not think at all,” Bucky jeered before turning Persephone away and galloping to the front of the party once again.
When he returned to his order, he looked ahead to see Y/N in conversation with Steve.
————
The trip to Midgard could not be done in a day. Therefore, they set up a camp for the night and would reach the kingdom late afternoon the next day.
Y/N hadn’t spoken to Bucky for the rest of the ride, let alone even looked at him.
What pained the knight the most was that he couldn’t confront her. There were too many people around. He had no chance to speak freely with his princess.
There was no point in trying to sleep. Bucky’s body seemed to sense that Y/N was close, her tent just right next to his. He decided to go to check on Persephone. She hated being boarded in new places. The new sounds and smells made her anxious.
Bucky gave a stern nod to the two guards standing outside Y/N’s tent as he walked to the makeshift barn.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw Y/N in her nightgown and robe, standing by Moon and brushing his coat. The horse was so relaxed under his master’s touch that he was half asleep. 
Bucky looked around and knew none of the guards had followed her. She must have snuck past them. He would have a talk with them in the morning.
“You should not wander alone. We are no longer behind the safety of Zamora’s walls.” He said quietly.
Y/N heard him, but gave him no indication that she had. Instead, she continued brushing Moon’s dark coat.
Bucky knew she would be upset. He would be dreading this conversation if he weren’t so relieved to get a moment alone with her.
He decided to go to Persephone, who stood beside Moon, and brush her as well.
“I must apologize…” Bucky began.
“Why would you possibly need to apologize, Sir James?” She asked coldly.
Bucky knew she was playing dumb. “For the comment of my dim witted squire.”
Y/N still didn’t look at him. “How you spend your time when you are off-duty is none of my concern, Sir James.”
Her coldness brought him pain. She said his title like a curse.
“Please, Y/N. Please, do not do that.” He whispered, staring at her.
Y/N finally met his gaze, but with a glare. “Do what?” She snapped.
“Do not hide yourself from me, like you do with everyone else. I beg of you.” His whisper was urgent and desperate.
Y/N’s glare dropped at his plea. “I have no right to judge what you do when you are away from me.” Her tone was sad and distant. “You are a man, such behavior is expected. You can do as you please, I have no say in the matter. I know this.”
“You think I behave like the men who disgust you?” Bucky challenged, slightly offended by her assumption.
“I do not know, Bucky!” Y/N cried out. “All I know is the man who is with me. I do not have the luxury of seeing you as just a simple man - no knight, no title, no connection to the princess of his country. But you…” Y/N breathed, “you see all of me. You have a life away from this. I do not. This is it. I cannot hide anything from you.”
Bucky could tell she was getting herself more upset.
Y/N shook her head and took in a deep breath. Throwing the brush in a bucket nearby.
She started walking away but Bucky stepped into her path, blocking her exit.
“They mean nothing,” Bucky whispered. He was desperate to touch her - any part of her. But he also knew the privilege would never be his. “They never have and they never will. They are… merely an attempt to rid myself of a void.” He shook his head. “But I know it will never be filled.”
Y/N’s eyes started to tear up, but she refused to let them fall. It was more out of frustration and anger than sadness. “You think I do not have the same void?” She decried. “What a liberty you possess to be able to even try and fill it.”
Y/N then shoved past him and marched back to her tent. She didn’t even bother sneaking back in her tent. She would rather take the scolding from her guards when they realized she had snuck right under their noses.
Bucky was livid now. He waited for her to go inside before he addressed the guards who she had so easily maneuvered.  
“What in god’s name have the two of you been doing?” Bucky yelled at his comrades. “Is it so hard to keep eyes on one person? Her Highness was able to slip past both of you with minimum effort!” Bucky growled. His men looked terrified. Sir James was known for his calmness under the scariest dangers and highest stresses.
“What is the meaning of this?” A voice asked calmly behind him.
Bucky turned slightly to see that Steve had come out of his own tent after hearing the noise. He ignored the king and turned back to his men.
“If Her Highness evades you once more, I promise I will make it your last act as a knight of the royal guard.”
Bucky turned on his heel and made his way back to his tent.
“Do not trouble yourself, Your Majesty.” He muttered as he walked past Steve without even glancing at him.
—————
Steve watched Y/N with concern as he noticed the shadows under her eyes and the way she didn’t seem to sit as tall in her saddle. She looked exhausted, like she’d hardly slept the night before.
“Are you sure you don’t want to rest in the carriage, Y/N?” He asked gingerly.
She forced a smile to reassure him. “I am fine. I promise.”
He just nodded. “We are almost at the kingdom’s borders. It should not be long now.”
Y/N nodded politely. Then her curiosity got the better of her. “What is it like? I do not remember much from when I was last here.”
Steve seemed flattered by her interest. “Tis not as fanciful as Zamora. But the people are kind and loyal. They will welcome you with open arms.”
Then he pointed in the far distance. “Once we get closer, you will see there are more hills. The trees grow taller. There are legends that they whisper to each other and come alive at night.” He smirked at the tall tales.
Y/N giggled at him.
“The weather is colder here. But it has never bothered me,” Steve added. Then he sighed tiredly. “It is beautiful. I miss it when I am away.”
It made Y/N wonder if she would miss Zamora. She didn’t know who she would marry or where she would go. Her entire life, all she wanted to do was run away and see new places. But now that she realized she’d have to leave Zamora and stop calling it home, it tugged at her heart a bit.
“You are thinking of Zamora?” Steve asked her when she grew quiet and had a pensive look.
Y/N simply nodded. “I do not know if I will miss it as much as you miss Midgard.” When she glanced at him, he was waiting patiently for her to continue. “No matter how lovely Zamora may seem, it is still a cage of sorts. I could never leave. I could have anything I asked for there, but all I ever wanted was to leave.”
Then her heart raced at exposing such a vulnerable part of her thoughts to a man she had yet to trust.
“Forgive me. I have spoken too freely. They are dreams of a silly girl.” She scoffed at herself with embarrassment.
“Please do not apologize,” Steve begged. “I wish you did it more often.”
Y/N eyed him, waiting to see some sign that he was lying or flattering her. But there was nothing.
She took in a short breath, “I suppose traveling may not feel as extraordinary when one knows they can leave whenever they wish and a beloved home will be there to return to afterward.”
Steve gave her a sad look, “I suppose you are right.”
But Y/N was still irritated with herself for letting down her guard. A princess never shows her true character to just anyone.
Now Steve seemed to be lost in his own head, deep in thought.
“Once we get within the castle walls, I cannot imagine we will have much privacy. Now, we are as alone as we will ever be,” Steve noted as he looked around.
“Do you have secrets to tell me?” She quirked an eyebrow in amusement.
It was true though. Their party had been kind enough to keep a radius around them, leaving Y/N and Steve to have private conversation. When Y/N glanced behind her, even Bucky and Peter were yards away.
“No, no secrets.” Steve answered.
Suddenly he appeared vey serious. The shy, modest man had disappeared. In its place was a confident and honorable king. It was the first time Y/N had seen a glimpse of the general king who’s reputation had traveled across the lands.
“You worry for the safety of your people. I know it. You are not merely searching for a husband. You wish to find an ally, someone who can promise aid and protection to Zamora if it should need it.” Steve explained solemnly.
Y/N’s remained expressionless, not really appreciating his transparency.
“You have Midgard’s army and loyalty, and you shall always have it. Marriage or not, Midgard will always protect Zamora.”
Y/N looked at him in shock.
“I hope freeing you of such burdens may allow you to take joy in this visit. And stop you from only see me as a King with a powerful army.” Steve added. “I am but a man, who wishes to show you his home and learn more of you.”
Y/N had never before been rendered speechless in such a manner.
Before she could even humor the idea of formulating words, Steve was smiling and pointing straight ahead.
“We are here.”
Part VIII
So the writing marathon and quick updates ends here. I will be out of town for the next week. So I can’t imagine I will be able to post anything before then. I’m very sorry. My real life and paid job tortures us all. 
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melonishus · 6 years
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The good knight Chloe walks into the den of the great dragon of Blackwell, her nerve steeled as she gazed into the dark abyss of the cave. Legends say that the beast had been terrorizing the countryside for many an age, using it’s power of time and space to do many wicked a deed . Chloe was the third knight sent to deal with the scourge, following the return of the previous three knights. The first, Lady Victoria had many a boast about her accomplishments in the field, , only for the dragon to use it’s black magic to revert her to childhood before sending her on her way. The second, the great alchemist Brooke, promised to defeat the beast with man’s one advantage, the mind. However, the beast in it’s cruelty managed to take even that, draining the life from the alchemists body until she was an old woman
“My lady Kairi” 
Chloe looked down to the tiny form of her new squire Victoria, as she presented her fabled sword to her, freshly cleaned for her use.Despite the monster’s horriffic power, it  could not snuff out Victoria’s innate ability to lick the boots of authority, fueling hope that should her mission go awry she would not be reduced to the simpering child she once was. 
“Thank you my young squire” Chloe said as she took her blade, tousling the child’s hair affectionately. “Stay here, you don’t have many years left to lose”
Chloe rushed into the darkness of the cave, her weapon lighting her way with a radiant blue light as she prepared for battle. She felt her heart beat with the echo of the monstrosities breath as it rang through the cave, turning around frequently as she attempted to find her target before a sneak attack gave her a need of diapers once more
She raised her sword, calling out  “Come out beast ! I’m hella ready !”, attempting to make herself look as fearsome of an opponent as she could for the coming battle, only to have the cave fall deathly silent.
Chloe dropped her arms to her side, a hint of concern in her heart as she tried to figure out what was going on ? Had the beast run from her might ? Or was it preparing to strike ? 
“Surely such a gargantuan creature would find itself unable to move so stealthily through such a tiny cave”, Chloe thought as she worked herself further inside, passing and promptly looting the bodies of several would-be adventurers “It would neither be able to escape, nor launch a sneak attack on me without hella racket”
Chloe stopped in her tracks as she registered a familiar noise from somewhere within the cave, the cry of a captive maiden. “Fear not !” the knight awkwardly cried as she dropped her loot, rushing towards the sound of the noise with the dignity of a freshly promoted squire, stumbling over herself in a bid to reach the young woman before any harm should come to her. After what felt like an eternity of stumbling around like a fool, Chloe’s sword shone down upon the shivering form of a young woman, her beauty robbing the adventurer of her ability to speak, as she tried to hide the noticeable blush on her face
“M...maiden !” Chloe managed to stammer out “I have come to save you from the foul beast that’s kept you captive”
The woman gently lifted her hand, allowing Chloe to help her to her feet “My hero...”  a certain sense of familliarity in  the way she looked upon her
“May I ask your name ? “ Chloe said, bowing respectfully to who must surely be a princess
The lady brushed off her clothes, looking at herself in the light of the blade with what seemed like curiosity “Max”  smiling up at the warrior with a face that melted her heart “Never Maxine”
Writing Requests are OPEN
Medeival AU  1 
A fic for @psycho-dolphin
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real-life-pine-tree · 7 years
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Beauty and the Beast: an AppleShipping Fairytale
Based on the Fairytale AU by @justanotherotakuandartist.
Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Neudonia, there lived a lovely maiden named Rin Hogan. She lived in Neudonia’s commoners area with her older brother Crow Hogan, who was well-known as the best horseback wizard among the commoners. And Rin wished to follow in his footsteps.
But everyone in the commoners area thought Rin was rather odd, for she was dressed in her brother’s old clothing and she was fascinated with an activity that was normally done by men. It didn’t help that her mint green hair was cut in a short bob style that framed her face. But Rin didn’t care, for her mind was currently focused on the yearly Friendship Goblet that was approaching in a few weeks.
Ah, yes. The Friendship Goblet. It was a glorious wizards event in Neudonia, which was established by King Jack Atlas. Once a year, wizards among both the elite and commoners would take part in horseback magic battles, with the winner having the honor of challenging the king himself.
Crow would have taken part in the tournament as usual, but due to him unfortunately getting in a horseback magic battle that greatly injured his back, Rin decided to take his place. However, while the girl wasn’t an expert on summoning creatures and casting magical spells, she had the unusual ability to control the wind through the power of pure energy, which she channeled using the foreign art of tai-chi. But she had learned to use her ability to summon creatures she has nicknamed ‘Windwitches’. She learned to control this power through the help of local freedom fighter Shinji Weber, who also gave her a strong, pure-white mare so she could participate in the Friendship Goblet.
One day, after visiting Shinji’s place for her usual magic training, Rin came across an adult man wearing strange clothing. “Can I help you?” she asked.
“I see you are trying to be a horseback wizard,” the man said. “That sport is very dangerous for a girl like you.”
“That’s why I’m training to get better,” Rin explained. “My brother is counting on me to win the Friendship Goblet for the both of us. It’s our way towards a better life.”
“This ‘brother’ you speak of is wrong,” the man said, gently placing his hand on Rin’s shoulder. “You should not take part in such a dangerous tournament. You are better off in my care.”
Offended and baffled, Rin stepped back from the man’s grasp. “Look, I don’t even know you,” she said. “And I don’t care what you say. I will participate in the Friendship Goblet!”
After that little skirmish, Rin was able to return back home, where she explained what had happened. “I see,” Crow said. “So this man thinks he can walk up to you and ask you to live with him? That doesn’t seem right.”
“I know!” Rin agreed. “He must be from another kingdom, because the Friendship Goblet is important for both of us.”
“Indeed,” Crow replied. “It’s our ticket out of the slums and into a better life. I thank you for taking my spot.”
“Of course,” Rin said with a smile. “You are not well to take part in the Friendship Goblet this year. My win will benefit us both.”
“So how is your training with Shinji coming along?” Crow asked.
“Very well,” Rin answered. “I have finally learned to summon a tuner. Now I can tune summon like you can!”
“How wonderful!” Crow said. “I must see your progress.”
As Rin used her magical ability to perform a successful tune summon, a creature witnessed the two siblings from outside their home. The creature looked humanoid, but he was clearly not human at all. The creature seemed drawn to Rin, almost as if he was attracted to her…
That night, Rin was awoken by a loud crash. Concerned about an intruder, she slowly approached the kitchen. Once she was in the kitchen, the green-haired maiden proceeded to light a nearby candle. She gasped, realizing a person wearing a dark blue hooded robe had broke in.
The person looked over at Rin. “Don’t be alarmed,” he said, approaching her. “I just want to-”
Rin slammed her knee into the person’s stomach, causing him to fall over. Crow had ran into the kitchen. “Are you alright?!” he asked.
“Of course,” Rin answered. “But it seems someone has broke into our house.”
The person slowly got back on his feet. “I must admit, you are rather strong,” he said. “But you must let me stay with you. I have been living a poor life for ten years.”
“Just about everyone here lives a poor life,” Crow pointed out.
“Who are you, anyway?!” Rin demanded.
“Yugo,” the person answered.
Rin was confused. “You want us to go somewhere?”
The person let out a frustrated sound. “Yugo’s my name,” he explained. “And I really wish to live with you.”
“Oh no,” Crow said. “We’re not dumb to let that happen again. Do you even know how many times people asked for hospitality, only for us to later realize they were spies working for the Neudonia Royal For-”
Crow was cut off when Yugo had took off his robe, revealing a rather monstrous form. His whole body was covered in thick white scales with sparkly green crystals on his arms. Light blue spikes came out from his head, one on either side of his face and one on his forehead. He also had a long black-striped tail, yellow eyes with slitted pupils, small fangs for teeth, and dark blue hair with blonde bangs that resembled bananas.
“Do I look like someone who would work for the Neudonia Royal Force?” Yugo asked.
While Crow was absolutely speechless, Rin let out a small gasp. “What happened to you?” she asked.
“I was only four years old when it happened,” Yugo explained, sounding a bit sad. “I used to live in the kingdom’s orphanage with other orphans under the gentle care of the great Headmistress. Things were going great for me, but one rainy night changed everything.
“I was sleeping peacefully when I felt a sharp jab in my heart, almost as if I was stabbed there. I don’t remember what else happened, but the next thing I knew, I had transformed into this hideous creature and everyone in the orphanage had apparently died.”
Yugo lifted his scaly hand. “I remember seeing fresh blood on my hands that night. I came to the conclusion that I was responsible for this bloodshed.” He clenched his hand and closed his tear-brimming eyes. “It wasn’t long before rumors spread throughout the kingdom. People have called me the Beast of Neudonia. They dare not approach the orphanage because of me.”
“So why have you come here?” Rin asked.
Yugo opened his eyes and looked at the maiden. “Because I was drawn to you,” he answered. “I feel that I must stay with you in order to prevent any more bloodshed.”
“Crow?” Rin asked.
“I think I remember that night,” Crow recalled. “We had left the orphanage earlier that day after I realized adoption meant the possibility of us separating. The sudden rainstorm was unexpected because the town squire did not predict it.”
“And you feel that my presence helps you?” Rin asked Yugo.
“Indeed,” Yugo answered, approaching the maiden and gently touching her face. “That’s why I feel that I must live with you.”
Rin was oddly drawn towards the gentle touch, placing her hand over Yugo’s. “I appreciate it, but I fear that you might cause an outcry,” she said.
“Then why don’t you live with him?” Crow suggested.
“What?!” Rin exclaimed. “But what about the Friendship Goblet?!”
“The Friendship Goblet…” Yugo said. “You are participating in it, correct?”
“Indeed,” Rin answered. “It’s the only way my brother and I can escape this life of poverty.”
“Let me train you,” Yugo said. “I, too, admire King Jack Atlas, and I have wished to participate in the Friendship Goblet for years. I also know tune summoning, so maybe I can give you some pointers.”
Rin looked a bit unsure, but Crow assuringly placed his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, sis,” he said. “The Friendship Goblet is in a few weeks. And if Yugo really is good at tune summoning, he can help you out.”
The green-haired maiden took a deep breath. “Very well,” she told Yugo. “I’ll live with you, but only until the Friendship Goblet.”
“Deal,” Yugo agreed.
And so, Yugo had escorted Rin over to the abandoned orphanage. It was still in good health, but it was clear that it was starting to deteriorate. “The rooms are still in good condition,” Yugo explained, dropping his robe onto the floor in what appeared to be his room. “You can stay in whichever room you like.”
“But what about the tune summon lessons?” Rin asked.
“We’ll start first thing tomorrow morning,” Yugo answered. “For now, we need to get some rest. Wizards should never take part in battle with a sleep-deprived mind.”
Nodding in understanding, Rin went over to another room, one that looked the cleanest. She let out a sigh, knowing that if she continued her training, she would no longer have to live among the commoners.
The next day, Yugo brought Rin over to what appeared to be a horseback wizards training room. “Before you take part in a horseback magic battle, you must know the rules,” Yugo explained. “They’re like regular magic battles, but with a few rule exceptions.”
“I know,” Rin said, petting her mare. “That’s why Shinji gave me Crystal Belle. Horseback magic battles require great multitasking with both riding a horse and using magic at the same time.”
“There’s more than that,” Yugo explained. “As soon as a horseback magic battle is declared, a speed charm is casted in the arena, prohibiting the battling wizards from using normal spells and allowing the horses to run without getting tired. Additionally, whoever makes the first turn depends on whether or not their horse is fast enough to take the lead as soon as the battle begins.”
“I understand,” Rin said.
“Before we can continue, I need to see how you summon creatures,” Yugo said.
“Very well,” Rin said. She proceeded to do some tai chi, syncing her magical energy with her summoning magic. And in a gust of wind, a spellcaster riding a bell appeared. She did the same thing to summon another spellcaster riding a bell, one that was smaller. And in a flash of light, the smaller spellcaster proceeded to circle around the larger spellcaster, until the two merged into a crystal-like spellcaster.
Yugo was surprised. “I have never seen a wizard cast magic without words,” he commented.
“It’s because of my magical ability,” Rin explained. “I can control wind using pure energy, and I have learned to channel that power using basic magic. It allows me to summon creatures, like this Windwitch known as Winter Bell.”
“Not bad,” Yugo said. “I can summon creatures too, but my summoning techniques are a little different.” He snapped his fingers, summoning a snake made of red tops and a blue pyramid die with a red eye. The die proceeded to circle around the top-snake. “Now watch as Tri-Eyed Dice tunes Terrortop, allowing me to tune summon my trusted Kendama!”
Rin was amazed by Kendama. “How wonderful!” she exclaimed.
Yugo smirked. “That’s just one of my tune creatures,” he said. “You need to create more of them if you want to win.”
Rin looked a bit embarrassed. “But Winter Bell is the only one I have been able to tune summon.”
“That’s why you’ve got me,” Yugo said. “But basic talk won’t work. Let’s practice.”
“I don’t see your horse,” Rin pointed out.
Suddenly, sparkly green crystal-like wings materialized on Yugo’s back. “Why should I get a horse when I already have wings?” he asked in response.
“Not bad,” Rin said, climbing up to ride on Crystal Belle’s back. “But I bet my horse is faster.”
“Oh, we’ll see,” Yugo replied.
And so, Yugo and Rin proceeded to practice. As the days passed, Rin’s magical powers became stronger. She had even learned how to tune summon other Windwitches of her own creation. Hopefully her magic would become strong enough to defeat King Jack Atlas.
Ultimately the day of the Friendship Goblet came. Rin was all set to go, but Yugo halted her. “What is it?” she asked.
“Another key element with magic battle tournaments is appearances,” Yugo explained. “You need to make sure the crowd favors you, and I don’t think you can do that wearing those old rags.”
“These were my brother’s old clothes,” Rin explained. “We couldn’t afford outfits for myself, so we had to improvise.”
Yugo proceeded to lead Rin into another room in the orphanage. “There’s a chest of costumes in this room,” he said. “Feel free to take any outfit you like.”
“Very well,” Rin said, stepping into the room. Yugo closed the door to allow her some privacy.
Rin looked at the chest of costumes, amazed with the outfits. But one outfit caught her eye. It was a beautiful sky blue dress with long sleeves and pink bows on the skirt. She never saw an outfit as lovely as this one. She had also found white boots, perfect for horseback magic battles.
After changing into her new outfit, Rin knocked on the door, indicating that she was done. Yugo opened the door, and he was amazed. “Whoa…” he said. “I guess you are cute after all.”
Rin wasn’t sure if she should be flattered by the compliment or offended that he apparently didn’t think she was cute beforehand, but she was blushing madly. “Don’t worry,” Yugo said, not understanding why the maiden was blushing. “You look great and your magic has become stronger. I’m sure you’ll win the Friendship Goblet.”
“Thanks…” Rin said, smiling softly.
Once Yugo put on his robe, he and Rin met up with Crow before the three headed over to the Neudonia magic battle arena. While Yugo and Crow went over to the commoners seats of the arena, Rin headed over to where the other participants were gathered. To no surprise, she was the only girl participating.
With all the participants present, a red-haired woman dressed in red and black and holding a matching parasol walked over to the podium. “Well, howdy everyone!” she said, speaking in an odd, foreign accent. “Welcome to this year’s Friendship Goblet! I’m Melissa Trail, and I will serve as the host of the tournament. I’m sure everyone’s all fired up to win as usual.
“But before we begin, I would like to make an important announcement. As all you common folk know, local participant Crow Hogan was in a rather unfortunate accident. But not to worry. His younger sister has offered to take his place. Now let’s give a warm welcome to Rin Hogan!”
The commoner participants applauded as Rin smiled and waved. She was happy to get such a nice reception. However, the applause was cut short when a blonde man dressed in white took his seat in the highest balcony of the arena. “Goodness!” Melissa exclaimed. “It seems King Jack Atlas has arrived. Your highness, do you wish to say a few words to all the lucky wizards participating?”
“I wish you all the best of luck,” Jack said. “But I must say, a girl among noble men is quite a rare sight. But fear not, Ms. Hogan. The rules of the Friendship Goblet remain the same, especially for you. If you are as mighty as your brother, you should have no trouble keeping up.”
Rin showed no fear as the king spoke. She would not be intimidated by his words, for she was determined to win for her brother.
“Alrighty then!” Melissa said. “Now if y'all can head over to the luxury rooms near the arena, the pairings will be selected. And as y'all know, the Friendship Goblet lasts for a good number of days, so everyone better take this time to practice.”
And so, the participants were escorted to their rooms. To Rin’s amazement, her room was the most luxurious room she had ever seen, especially with an indoor water pump with a magical filter to supply with her fresh water. She wondered if this was what Crow experienced during previous Friendship Goblets.
It wasn’t long before the first battle of the Friendship Goblet was announced. Surprisingly, Rin was facing off against Shinji. Upon arriving in the arena with Crystal Belle, she was greeted by Shinji and his horse Stinger.
“Glad you can make it, Rin,” Shinji said. “I was worried you chickened out when you stopped showing up for your usual training sessions.”
“As if I would chicken out,” Rin replied. “I learned more spells from another mentor.”
“Another mentor?” Shinji asked. “Then let’s see if that new guy really did help you out.”
With the two wizards on their horses, the speed charm was cast on the arena and the race had begun. To Shinji’s surprise, Crystal Belle had quickly outrun Stinger, allowing Rin to go first. Knowing that she needed both hands to guide her horse, Rin simply concentrated her magical energy through thought to successfully tune summon Winter Bell with two Ice Bells and one Snow Bell.
“So you learned to use magic without having to use your hands,” Shinji said. “Not bad.”
“There’s more,” Rin said. “Since I tune summoned Winter Bell using Snow Bell, she’s immune to all special abilities. But since I’m not allowed to attack on the first turn, I shall pass things over to you.”
“Very well,” Shinji said. “Now to see if the apprentice has excelled from the master!”
Things went well for Rin afterwards. After managing to defeat Shinji, she was able to battle day after day, fighting one tough opponent after another. I would describe what had happened in the Friendship Goblet, but alas, this tale is already long enough and the author shall waste no time writing about the more important details.
“Congratulations, Ms. Hogan!” Melissa said. “How does it feel to be the first women to win the Friendship Goblet?”
“I haven’t won yet,” Rin said. “You know there’s one last thing I must do.”
“Ms. Hogan, I think you have done enough,” Melissa said. “We don’t need you to go on and have get injured like what happened to your brother.”
“No,” Rin said. “I participated in the Friendship Goblet so my brother and I can finally live in luxury. I will not accept this win until I have done so!”
“But Ms. Hogan…” Melissa began, but Jack had already stood up.
“That’s quite enough,” the beloved king said. “If Rin Hogan wishes to do battle with me, I accept her challenge. After all, no women should never be excluded for things men are allowed to do.”
“Thank you, your highness,” Rin said.
And so, with Jack in the arena with his horse Red Demon, he and Rin took part in battle. It was fierce, but ultimately Jack had managed to tune summon his Scarlight Red Dragon Archfiend with Rin almost about to pass out.
“I must say, Ms. Hogan, you put up quite a fight,” Jack said. “But I never planned to go easy on you. Any final words?”
“Not a single one,” Rin said, still determined to win. She tried to concentrate on summoning any Windwitch to assist her, but it seemed most of them were defeated. What was she supposed to do now-
“You can do it, RinRin!”
Rin was alarmed by that voice. It sounded like Yugo. Glancing back, she realized Crystal Belle had run past him and Crow. Suddenly, a Windwitch resembling a icy blue heart had materialized. It seemed that her newfound connection with Yugo had allowed her to create such a creature.
“What is this?!” Jack asked, alarmed. “You are not allowed to create creatures mid-battle!”
“But it’s still here,” Rin pointed out. “So the Windwitch Heart Bell still counts as an official creature! And I’ll use her to tune with any Windwitches in my graveyard!”
Concentrating her energy on this one tune summon, Rin let Heart Bell circle around the ghostly images of four of her Windwitches. And in a sudden gust of wind, a dragon-like spellcaster wearing a white dress with green crystals had materialized.
Yugo felt something odd in his heart, almost as if the constant stabbing pain he had felt for ten years had vanished. And everyone else among the crowd was amazed by Rin’s creation that they were unaware of the sudden glow coming from the dragon-human’s body.
“My god…” Jack said. “That creature looks just like the Dragon with Clear Wings!”
“Then I guess my newest Windwitch shall be called Clear Bell,” Rin said. “And she can automatically destroy any dragon creature of choice, then she’ll transfer all of its strength into a direct attack!”
Clear Bell raised her green crystal staff and blasted Scarlight Red Dragon Archfiend with a magical blast, draining all of his strength before destroying it. She proceeded to use that power to attack the king, causing him to fall off his horse.
With the speed charm wearing off, Crystal Belle came to a stop. Rin got off her mare as she saw everyone cheering for her. She was so happy with what had happened.
Getting back on his feet, Jack approached the green-haired maiden. “That was quite a battle,” he said. “Ms. Hogan, you are clearly deserving of a right among the elite.”
“Not without my brother,” Rin insisted. “I participated in the Friendship Goblet for the both of us.”
“RinRin!”
Yugo proceeded to tackle Rin for a hug as he and Crow approached her. “And my new friend too,” she concluded.
“New friend?” Jack asked. He looked over at Yugo. “Young man, may I see your face?”
But before Yugo could reply, there was a scuffle. Suddenly, the oddly-dressed man Rin had once come across had ran into the arena. “There’s the beast of this kingdom!” he exclaimed, pointing at Yugo. “We must kill him before everyone in this land is brutally murdered!”
But without any hesitation, Yugo lowered the hood of his robe. To Rin’s surprise, all of his dragon features were gone and his eyes were bright blue. “Sorry, but I don’t know what you're talking about,” he said innocently.
“Don’t play dumb with me!” the man exclaimed. “You are the beast of Neudonia!” He took out a knife from his belt. “Now die!”
However, Jack approached the man. “Hello Leo Akaba,” he said, glaring at him. “I wasn’t expecting to meet you like this.”
Leo chuckled. “You must be King Jack Atlas of Neudonia,” he said. “But you know I am far more than a simple man.”
“You don’t deserve to be called by your proper title,” Jack said. “And my allies have informed me of the deeds you have done. Did you really think you would get away with your actions in this kingdom?”
“But of course,” Leo said. “While my past deeds are questionable-”
“You killed an innocent man, imprisoned his daughter, and kidnapped an infant princess!” Jack interrupted.
“Those are just strong words,” Leo said. “Their supposed ‘parents’ were only obstacles. I simply want what is rightfully mine.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Jack said. “Guards, escort this man to the kingdom borders! He must never set foot in Neudonia again!”
But before anyone could respond, Leo had vanished in a flash of purple light. Rin wasn’t sure what had happened. “Your highness…” she said.
“You must not worry about what you have witnessed,” Jack interrupted. “For now, I would suggest celebrating your win. You are the first women to win the Friendship Goblet.”
Life was never the same for Rin after that day. She, Crow, and Yugo had moved from the slums to among the elite. While the scuffle with that Akaba person confused her, she didn’t let it bother her. Because after all those years of living in poverty, she was finally able to live happily ever after with her brother and friend.
29 notes · View notes