#meirneal

[devoraqs]

Happy Father’s Day to Mèirneal MacRionnag because it wasn’t easy but he loves his son more than anything ;-;

(Also he’s kind of a dilf and that should be celebrated too)

[baronmpontmercy]

Nimue Pendragon and Meirneal MacRionnag, Alexander's parents

[devoraqs]

Dr Alexander MacRionnag

Basic Info:

Pronouns: He/him Birthday: 1st February Star Sign: Aquarius Age: 32-34 Height: 5′10-and-a-bit Scowl: Semi-permanent  Favourite Food: Goat’s cheese on brown toast Favourite Drink: Masala chai or dry stout Patron Major Arcana: 0 - The Fool Patron Minor Arcana: The King of Swords Main Magic Specialisation: Alchemy, sometimes astronomically charged, and pyromancy Familiar: Lughnasa, a female eurasian magpie Birthplace: Neuadd y Frenhines, Cumbric, Isles of Prydain Family: Meirneal MacRionnag (father), Morgaine Shonan MacRionnag (stepmother), Princess Gwenhwyfar Pendragon (eldest half sister), Princess Yvaine Pendragon (middle half sister), Princess Mared Pendragon (youngest half sister), Queen Nimue Pendragon (mother), Prince Uthyr Pendragon (step-father)

Face Cast: Paul McGann (ish) Theme Songs: Steer Your Way by Leonard Cohen, Halfway from Amélie the Musical

Links:

apprentice alexander - main tag for art and fics lughnasa - featuring the Best Birb

Ships:

Canon LIs: Ascha (Alexander x Asra), Ilyacha (Alexander x Julian), Alexander x Portia (ship name tbc), Sachasrian (Alexander x Julian x Asra) 

OC x OC Ships: Vissacha (Alexander x Vissenta @vissentasenadz), Visachra (Vissenta x Alexander x Asra), Jinacha (Alexander x Jinana @the-iron-orchid), Alchemy and Chill (Jinana x Vissenta x Alexander), Alexander x Amaryllis (@nvvermore)

Extra Fun Facts under the cut

Random fun facts:

plays the knee harp and fife, and can sing

incredibly bisexual

his fashion sense is ‘les mis and poldark reject meets eighth doctor chic’ with an added splash of Gender Roles Are Fake

earned his doctorate at age 21

not too shabby with a sword, preferring an épée or a bastard sword but capable of using a two-handed longsword

has several tattoos:

a blue triskelion on his left wrist

a blue and white aquarius over his heart

magpie wings and antlers crowning a sword on his back

and several piercings:

two lobes and two helixes on each ear

septum

nose

both nipples

prince albert

tongue

he has a large burn on his left shoulder/upper arm from an alchemy accident

when he overuses magic his body temperature drops, and his hands are nearly always cold to the touch

speaks several languages

cumbran

nalbe

vesuvian

zadithi

nevivic

old vesuvian

passable prakran and minor langue venterraise

his middle name is Medryd

his laughter sounds like a magpie caw

[devoraqs]

And a #25 kiss for Visilyacha?

They had been in Nalba for two and a half months now, and it had been three since they escaped from Firent. Those months had been some of the longest and most arduous of Alexander’s life, and he was including the Plague in that. The worst of Julian’s wounds had been healed fairly quickly after the fact, in those frenzied moments on the ship as they had sailed away from the burning city, but ‘healed’ did not mean ‘recovered’, and recovery was taking its time. This, as his father was wont to remind him, was true for him and Vissenta as well, “I’m fine,” Alexander had said gruffly the first time Meirneal had said something, “I’m not hurt. And they both need me.” “They do. And you need them,” his father said, uncharacteristically stern, “and I will not see you hurt yourself further by denying that you need help, and rest.”

Being in Nalba, safe, sure, comforting Nalba, admittedly was helping. As soon as they were able, and as soon as Julian was robust enough, they had begun to hike through the woods and the mountains around Beinn nan Craobhan Giuthais, with its well trodden paths and lush green forests. It was worlds and worlds away from politics and papicide plots and… well, everything really. Everything, of course, except the people who Alexander realised more clearly each day he loved more than anything. Loved, and was in love with.

It was on one of these hikes that found him, Vissenta, and Julian resting in a small clearing at the foot of Craobhan Giuthais, that the clouds rolled dark overhead and sheets of heavy rain suddenly began to pelt down on them. Vissenta swore at the shock of the freezing water, leaping to her feet and pulling Julian up with her. Suddenly feeling a bolt of energy and daring, Alexander grabbed both their hands, “Come, I know where we can shelter til this passes!” Fast as they could, they sprinted through the trees. As cold as the rain was, and how slippery it was rendering the soil and the grass, there was something exhilarating about it. Beside him he heard Julian howl with laughter, and their hands were warm in his.

The place in question was a small rocky cave found during some boyhood exploration, which he identified by a pattern that he himself had etched into the mouth with some juvenile magic. He pulled the other two inside just as a flash of lightning streaked the sky followed by a low rumble of thunder. It was a fairly tight fit, but there was just enough room for them all, pressed nearly cheek to cheek. “Ah,” Julian quipped once they’d gotten their breath back, “Prydic weather at its finest,” “At least it’s not a blizzard,” Alexander replied, “Then we’d really be in trouble.” “Please, we’re experts at being in trouble,” Vissenta said, wringing out the end of her braid, “a little snow is nothing. Or rain, for that matter.”

All three of them looked a bit worse for wear, drenched to the bone and streaked with mud from running. Alexander’s hair had come loose in their mad dash, hanging in sodden strands about his shoulders, and Vissenta’s fringe was plastered to her forehead. Compared to the levels of dishevelled they had been in recent months, there was something slightly charming about this, as uncomfortable as it was. Perhaps it was because, Alexander realised, they’d finally had some fun again. However, uncomfortable it certainly was, exacerbated by the chill stone around them, and it didn’t take long for them all to start to shiver. Alexander took their hands again, and drew them both in closer (not a difficult feat in the restricted room of the cave). He could feel the light puffs of their breaths on his skin, almost hear the thrum of their pulses, racing still. Steadily, carefully, he brought their hands to his lips and grazed them across their joined fingers, and as he did so a warmth spread across their bodies that sapped the rain-wrought cold from the inside out. He heard Vissenta’s breath catch, and felt Julian clasp his hand tighter. He glanced up, and they were both staring at him with wide eyes,and expression that was almost certainly mirrored on his own face.

“Sanya,” a barely-voiced whisper from Julian.

Barely a further heartbeat passed before he pulled Julian down to him with an urgency, a hunger he couldn’t quite describe, and crashed their lips together. In that same heartbeat Vissenta also surged forward, wrapping her arms around the two taller men as much as she could in the cramped space. Julian sighed into his mouth, Vissenta’s hand curled into his damp hair. He broke off from Julian and turned in his arms, and with that hand anchored in his hair Vissenta kissed him with the same intensity. Heat that had nothing to do with the warmth charm spilled out of his core and enveloped him from head to toe, even as cool drops of rainwater continued to slide down from his hair into his collar. Julian’s mouth was at his neck then, trailing every inch of skin he could reach with a hot open mouthed kiss. Then, as he and Vissenta parted, hers and Julian’s lips met and Alexander held them both closer and closer. The rush of blood pounding in his ears melded with the hammering rain and rolls of thunder outside.

Time outside that tiny cave stood still as the storm raged outside, and there was an unspoken sense of finally among them.

Finally, finally, finally.

Finally, they had time. Finally, things made sense. And finally it was so clear that this was right; it was right for them to be here in this cramped little alcove, so entwined it was as though they had become one being. Proximity aside, they were close, so close to each other. Alexander kissed lingering raindrops from the cheeks of the other two, Vissenta traced patterns across their arms as she held them tight, Julian buried his head into their shoulders and they breathed together.

When the rain subsided, then they could try and reckon with reality, but for now the three of them were out of the storm and away from the world, and had each other. That was all they needed.

[devoraqs]

Hey bestie tell us about Seren, they seem pretty neat 😇

did u know that Seren gets called Lambkin just like their father did as a baby, and for the same reason? (their curly hair making them look, to quote Meirneal, "like a wee sheep")

and did u also know that Alexander's dog Brigid immediately bonds with this new tiny human, and when they're little Brigid lets them ride her. Obviously, they do not stay little as they inherited the Tol gene and end up towering over both their parents

also also muriel and caspian both help carve their first bow, which has Sagittarius' constellation engraved into the wood

and did u also know that, poor kid, their name means Star McStar

[devoraqs]

Day Three: For The Boys A Celebration of Your Apprentice’s Friendships

@gentapprentices

Some relationships have their seeds planted decades beforehand, without either even knowing. 

Following on from yesterday’s prompt surrounding backstories, I kept thinking about what Alexander’s friendships were like pre-canon and when he was little, which then made me wonder... what if on his childhood travels he struck up a brief, blithe friendship with someone who would be very important to him later in life? Serendipity indeed!

[devoraqs]

uncommon asks: 7 and 38, and also G, for all of em (yes this includes Gwen too fight me)

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Gwen: being in a library at a certain time of day, as it reminds her of learning to read (with Alexander, sometimes) as a child. She does enjoy it as it evokes some happy childhood memories, but they're bittersweet with hindsight.

Alexander: the sounds of gulls and the smell of sea air in the early morning, which brings him back to travelling with meirneal as a young boy. Like his sister, it's a kind of bittersweet nostalgia; the travelling with his father was one of the only tastes of freedom he had from the ages of 5-12, and it always reminds him of how fleeting that time could be.

Caspian: being in and around the kitchens when they're baking some Venterrais delicacies, they used to help their mother Amara in the kitchen from time to time. They do enjoy it, and more often than not they ask to help out in the palace kitchens too.

38. What memory do they revisit the most often? 

Gwen: Forging her first sword! It's a rite of passage for the crown princess of Cumbric to forge her own sword when she's knighted, and Gwen was something of a prodigy as she was knighted at only fifteen. It's one of the times she's felt unabashedly proud of herself.

Alexander: Having his triskelion tattooed on him, and consequently seeing magic literally flow through him for the first time. It was important step in working through his emotional and physical blockage surrounding his magic.

Caspian: The accident they and Safiya got into as children, and it's a constant reminder to themself to always live life to its fullest and to keep their loved ones close.

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

Gwen: I'm still getting to grips with her as a character, but at the moment it's that she doesn't seem to like seeing things from other points of view, though I do think that's something she'll work on.

Alexander: Writing wise, given I say he's a grump and a bit of a sourpuss slash biting-sarcasm-using asshole I don't... show that? At least not as much as I'd like to. But it's finding the balance between making him be the grumpy git I know he is, while still keeping him, y'know, likeable. And letting his inherent gentleness find its footing alongside it.

Caspian: They're dangerously close to having a bit of toxic, fake positivity going on sometimes. And given I know people irl who are in fact incredibly fake and catty I'm like "why... my precious papillon human... why did I also have to make you kind of a bitch?"

[devoraqs]

Awards ask: 1, 3, and 6!

01. Who wins best supporting/side character?

The nominees for best supporting OC are:

Morgaine Shonan MacRionnag, Alexander's stepmother!

Meirneal MacRionnag, Alexander's father!

Safiya du Vignoble, Caspian's twin!

Princess Gwenhwyfar ferch Nimue Pendragon, Alexander's half sister!

And the winner is...

The world's best step-mum, Morgaine!

03. Dealing With Trauma Unhealthily Award

The nominees are:

Alexander with his dangerous blood magic, stubborn loner behaviour and refusal to talk about anything

Caspian with their tendency to lash out and make everyone miserable, including themself

And the winner is...

Alexander, who literally nearly died several times as a result (his prize is Therapy)

06. Who wins Best Fight Sequence?

The nominees are:

Alexander fighting Valdemar in Julian's route slash my Sachasrian route canon

Caspian fighting Lucio in my Muriel route canon

And the winner is...

Caspian, who beats tf out that fuckin goatman!

[devoraqs]

Listened to no matter what from beauty and the beast and ah fuck it’s Meirneal and Sacha

[devoraqs]

12 and 13 for Alexander and Caspian?

12) Does the OC have any pets? Any animals they really like?

(As Tamburlaine and Lughnasa are familiars, rather than pets, I won't include them) Caspian gets on really well with their stallion from Nadia's route, and becomes very close to him. They're also quite a Cat Person, and eventually adopt a kitten with Portia's help, who they absolutely adore (and spoil). They grew up with cats and kittens as a child on their parents' vineyard, but they never really had one that was an their pet before

Alexander, post upright on all his routes, eventually will get a dog with his LI; I'm favouring a bigger dog like a scottish deerhound. He's quite fond of horses too, and enjoys riding. He didn't really have any pets growing up, because of being on the move with Meirneal a lot and *gestures vaguely at all the other stuff going on at Neuadd y Frenhines*

13) What is the OC’s favorite place to go to to relax? Parks, playgrounds, cafes, libraries, etc.

Caspian finds they relax best around lots of people, so they enjoy chilling out at places where they can chat and interact with people, be it cafes, the markets, or in their own home with people over. I think the people are just as important as the place for them. In stereotypical nerd fashion, Alexander likes relaxing somewhere quiet where he can study or read. But his absolute favourite is his rooftop, or one of the hilltops outside the city gates, at dusk just as the evening star appears. It's peacefully quiet and he can be comfortable in his solitude, looking at the things he loves the most.

[devoraqs]

Interlude: Air for the Wise Celtic Fool

A reclusive young alchemist spends time with a fortune teller, and things begin to change. 

Set concurrent with  Part 1 and Part 2.

Mentions of citrus but nothing explicit. 

1.5k words

@vissenta-senadz​

As a general rule, Alexander wasn’t fond of interaction. Sure, people could be pleasant and enough of the people in his life were, but people could also be insufferable, irritating, cruel. Better then, to keep to himself.

So why had he, over the last few weeks, now found himself looking forward to whenever Vissenta would pay him a visit? No, she was visiting the shop. That was what she was there for. Not him.

He already knew who she was before they’d exchanged words. While he kept to himself for the most part, he was aware of people coming and going from the shop each day. Lughnasa was able to sense them. More to the point, she’d been able to sense whenever Vissenta would arrive at the shop for months now, and would announce her presence to Alexander with a squawk and a sharp nip to the ear, willing him to go down and say hello. He never did.

He made an attempt once or twice, while Morgaine was chatting to her over the counter, but as he made to push past the curtain in the back wall his throat immediately became tight and the words jumbled in his head.

He did ask Morgaine, though. Trying to be offhand one evening he'd said, "Mam, who’s that girl who keeps coming in? The brunette with the merlin."

Morgaine's eyes had widened. Her stepson had ever barely shown interest in any of her customers before, let alone asking after them. She flicked her eyes over him, scrutinising the light lick of colour that had blossomed on his cheekbones, and withheld a chuckle, "Oh, you mean Vissenta. One of my regulars, lambkin. Why?"

"N-no reason," he’d replied quickly, and immediately changed the subject. Lughnasa had immediately begun to cackle, and Alexander lightly pinched her beak shut.

Then, Mèirneal had announced that he and Morgaine were returning to Nalba for at least a few weeks. Then, Vissenta had returned that evening.

Something about her fascinated him. Not just her specialism of magic, which was something that eluded him. No, it was the way she spoke, so forthright and to the point. How she seemed to pick up on when he felt himself flushing. How she didn’t seem to car when he got tongue ties, which was often. How she made him laugh, which didn’t happen often at all. He enjoyed seeing her, spending time with her.

And her hands... by the Gods he'd had to stop himself staring at them, at the long elegant lines of her wrist down to her fingers. He thought of the way she’d traced the golden filigree that embossed the cover of the novel he'd been reading, and how her eyes had lit up when she saw the dragon coiled on the cover. Her smile... Her lips. He wouldn't admit to how often he thought about them, wondered what they'd taste like.

And every time that thought crossed his mind, he'd push it away as it appeared. He couldn't think of her like that. Couldn't think of anyone like that again.

Yet, with Morgaine and Meirneal gone, he was alone with ample time to think about her, and wait with an enigmatic mix of trepidation and anticipation until her next visit. Lughnasa was markedly less conflicted, cawing excitedly whenever she walked through the door.

More often than not now, weeks in, they’d stay talking for hours after the shop had closed. He was used to tidying the shop floor in complete silence, but now found he... didn’t hate her being there. Far from it, actually. Better still, Lughnasa and Vissenta's own Etienne seemed to be getting on well, chattering to themselves.

Their conversations would range from what kind of bread they’d gotten from Selasi's that day, to what cargo had come through the ports over the week, even to funny stories about various clients and customers they’d had. Each time the tangle of words in his throat dissipated more and more, like it was easier to breathe around her. He welcomed it, and she seemed to as well. Once or twice their conversation floated to the topic of magic. He was eager to learn about tarot, having only a base knowledge of it himself. The cards spoke to him on the rare occurrence he opened Morgaine's deck, but they never seemed to say much. The ease with which Vissenta could understand them was incredibly impressive. Far more impressive, to him, than any science trick. There was an art to it.

He told her as such, and she laughed merrily, "You’d pick it up, I think. What’s interesting to me is what you get up to in that lab of yours."

"Me? Oh it’s just...it’s just alchemy. Nothing special."

Vissenta raised an eyebrow, "I know it’s alchemy, Alexander. But what is it that you actually work on?"

Was she actually interested? A lot of people brushed off alchemy as either too complicated to try and understand, or making flashes and bangs that were passed off as science. He scanned her face quickly, trying to gauge whether or not there was any hint of mocking. There wasn’t. She actually wanted to know. He felt his cheeks get hot, and he stumbled a bit over his answer,

"Uh... things. Lots of...things," he shrugged, "I uh... well... when I did my doctorate I had this theory called astrolocational magical charge that uh..."

Too much jargon, maybe.

"It’s to do with the stars,” he clarified, “How the stars directly influence magic, especially alchemical magic. I wrote about it in my thesis, and now I’m still doing research on it. Using the magic in the stars as a conduit and enhancer in spellwork. It’s uh..." his flush deepened, "kind of unstable when you try and directly harness the power. Hence the uh, bangs and crashes. I don’t think human magicians are really meant to use it too much."

Vissenta's eyes widened, "Isn’t that dangerous?"

"Isn’t all magic?"

"Hm." She had an unreadable look on her face, "I suppose... but you aren’t going to burn your shop down, are you?"

"Ideally no, though there was a bit of a close call the other week... I though Mam was going to kill me," he chuckled awkwardly, "I think a bonus of studying the alchemical arts is that you get very adept at cleanup spells."

She chuckled at that too, and he felt his flush deepen.

"You’ll have to show me something before too long," she said, leaning over the counter on her forearms and looking him in the eye, "I’m very interested, you know."

Gods strike him, his heart nearly stopped.

"I-I’ll take you up on that," he replied.

She smiled then, bright and blinding as those very stars that he’d spent so long gazing at, and couldn’t help but smile back.

And then, everything had snowballed to now, and much to his dismay, he had grown very fond of her. Fond of her, and excruciatingly attracted to everything about her, from the lines of the tattoos on her shoulder blades that had been burned into his mind's eye, to the quirk of her lips when she laughed at his blushing. Gods, he wanted to kiss her.

So when he finally pressed his lips to her hand, his heart hammered against his ribcage like it was trying to leap out of his chest. He heard her breath hitch, ever so slightly, and her fingers tightened slightly around his. His blood sang in his ears, and the hairs stood up at the back of his heck. He half expected her to pull away and slap him, curse him for his forwardness, and storm out never to return. But she didn’t.

"Your palm said you ought to kiss me," she had said, and it was like the air had been knocked out of him.

And then when her lips found his, his hesitation dissolved entirely. His hand dove into her hair, fingers threading through the soft strands. Everywhere she touched him made him feel like his skin was alight, and when she tugged at the gathering of hair at the base of his neck he couldn’t stop the moan rippling from his mouth.

He wanted to feel every part of her, tease sounds out of those lips. The way she rocked onto his hand when he touched her there, the feel of those hands in his hair pulling, he could gladly have lived forever in that moment.

Of fucking course that’s exactly when Morgaine and Mèirneal returned after a literal month and a half god knows where. Every word in every language he knows has been completely erased from his mind, his cheeks red, chest heaving, and fingers of his left hand slick. Yet initiative took over when he locked eyes with her and took those fingers into his mouth. He could taste her on them, and barely held in a groan. This was a silent promise of sorts, for what was to come.

Then when she disappeared abruptly out the door, he couldn’t help but stagger against the counter, mind reeling. Most of his intuition was screaming at him to never let this happen again, that he couldn’t risk it, but a small and loud part of him was telling him to go after her. Even when Morgaine hinted he should do just that, he’d already made his mind up.

With Lughnasa winging her way ahead, he followed her out into the streets.

[devoraqs]

I’d Be Lost, I’d Be Frightened

Set between Not So Starry-Eyed and Do I Look Moderate To You?

Pairing: Vissacha

Characters: Alexander MacRionnag, Asra Alnazar, Meirneal MacRionnag, Morgaine Shonan

Wordcount: ~1.9k

Warnings: Swearing, Alexander’s massive self-pity and self-deprecation

Summary: Communication has never been Alexander’s strong suit, and in the wake of what seems to be a disaster he curses himself even more. Asra again lends a needed helping hand and a voice of reason.

@vissenta-senadz

Alexander’s head was spinning like a top, his heart pounding in his throat. What the hell had just happened? Had she… had she really said..? His legs suddenly felt weak and he stumbled onto his worksurface, scrambling to brace himself against the wood.

She’d said she loved him. The woman he loved said she loved him.  And he’d been silent. 

The moment the words had left her mouth, he’d been struck by disbelief. It had to have been a fluke. Or he’d misheard. Or she was playing a trick on him… no one loved him like that, no one could...surely?

No. Vissenta wasn’t like that. She wouldn’t say such things lightly. And the look on her face when the words passed her lips…

Looking back on it now made his heart clench. He cursed himself for his hesitation, and cursed himself twice more for doubting her.  This wasn’t like before, when using his magic had weakened him and frazzled his brain too much to form coherent sentences. This was all his fault.  

“I’ve never been built for someone loving me back,” she had said.

But she was, and he did. It was him who couldn’t be loved, not her. It should have been simple. He should have been able to tell her how he felt then and there, letting her know that she was reciprocated even as he was ecstatic that she loved him too. But he didn’t. The thoughts caught in his mind, then the words caught in his throat. And for the second time, Vissenta had fled the shop upset, though now it seemed unbelievably worse.

She must hate me. She should hate me. 

There was no way he could be able to fix this. No apology would be enough. Nothing he did would ever be enough. Octavian had been right about him after all, he would never be able to do anything right and would only ever get people hurt.  And now, he’d hurt Vissenta. He thought about the way her face had changed when she thought he was going to reject her, how those vibrant green eyes he adored had flared with pain, how her voice had dwindled to little more than a whisper.   Maybe it was good that she probably hated him now, he figured, slumping further against the desk so he was half crumpled on the floor. He didn’t deserve her love, and she deserved far better than him. She deserved the world, and he was a mess. A stuttering, screwed up, stupid mess. 

He’d fucked it all up. They’d been so happy, his arms wrapped around her, comfortable in each other’s embrace… the tenderness in her voice as she explained his nickname… Chevalier. Noble, she’d said, and good. Things she’d believed him to be, but he’d let her down.  He didn’t realise he’d begun to cry until a warm tear dripped down his nose and onto one of the papers on the desk in front of him. Then once he started, he couldn’t stop. Sliding fully onto the floor now, he buried his head in his hands and howled.

---

He didn’t know how long he stayed curled on the floorboards, but eventually there was a knock at the door and he heard his father’s voice on the other side,

“...Alexander, are you in there?” “I’m busy, Da,” he replied weakly, voice thick, “I’ll be down later.” “Can I come in?” Meirneal’s voice was insistent, “No.” “Sacha-” “Da, I said no.”  “Morgaine and I would like to speak with you.” “Later.”

He heard Meirneal sigh heavily, “Open the door, Alexander. Please.”

Alexander scrubbed furiously at his red eyes, and lifted his hand to unravel the wards on the door, making it swing open. Meirneal stepped in, followed by Morgaine, both with equally worried looks on their faces.  Neither said anything, but both sat themselves on the floor on either side of their son. Meirneal put an arm around his shoulder. He was grateful for the silence, but also for the comfort.

Eventually, Morgaine cleared her throat and said, “Vissenta looked upset when she left. Barely even said goodbye.” Alexander trained his gaze on the floor in lieu of answering. “Is she alright?” “I don’t know,”  “Alexander,” Morgaine prompted, “do you want to tell me what happened?”

Alexander grit his teeth, “Don’t talk to me like I’m a bairn in need of scolding, Mam.”

Morgaine raised her eyebrows, “I am sorry for being concerned for you both,” she replied, folding her arms, “sound charms or no, something happened when she was up here, right?”

“Something happened. Or, nothing happened.... Gods strike me, I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped, shrugging off Meirneal’s hand, “I want to be alone.”

Over the top of Alexander’s bowed head, Meirneal shared a look with his wife, as if to say he’ll talk when he’s ready. Whenever that would be.

---

As it turned out, that seemed to be over three days. On the fourth day of locking himself in his bedroom and alternating between trying to distract himself with particularly volatile experiments , smoking through nearly all of his Firentian tobacco, and sinking deeper into overthinking, it wasn’t Morgaine or Meirneal who knocked on his door.

“Hey, Sacha, it’s me. I have tea.”

It was Asra.

“Go home, Asra. I don’t want to see anyone.” “Your chai is going to get cold.” “I don’t care.” “Yes you do. It’s my Prakran blend,” Asra insisted, “and I know for a fact it’s your favourite. Which you won’t be able to drink if you keep yourself cooped up in there.” “I don’t want to see anyone,” Alexander repeated, voice croaky from four sleepless nights, “Lughnasa seemed to think differently when she came and found me,” they said, and the magpie cawed in agreement from her perch on the windowsill, “and...well, I think I’d know when you need company, Sacha.”

Alexander knew he looked rough when he opened the door, he hadn’t shaved in days and his hair was a tangle of knotted curls, though Asra to their credit didn’t react beyond pushing the fragrant mug of chai into his hands and walking in. They sat together  on his bed in semi-comfortable silence, sipping their drinks. Faust curled around his shoulders, her head nuzzling under his collar.

“Do you want to talk?” Asra asked quietly after a minute or so, “I don’t like seeing you upset.” “I’m not.”

Asra narrowed his eyes, “You know as well as I that that’s bullshit.”

Alexander swirled the chai in his mug, and swallowed hard, “I ruined everything, Asra. We were so close, and I ruined it. It’s all my fault.” “With Vissenta?” “How did you-?” “Don’t forget I’m also friends with Nadi and Deirdra. They didn’t tell me everything, but apparently Vissenta’s been upset as well.”

Alexander crumpled, having to bite his lip hard, “Oh...It’s my fault,” he mumbled, the words tasting bitter on his tongue, “What?” “It’s my fault, Asra. Gods… she… she told me she loved me, the other day.”

Asra’s eyes widened, “What? But… but that’s wonderful! What’s the problem?”

“I… I froze. I couldn’t say anything. It took me a while to even realise that...that she was serious and not…” he swallowed again, “I didn’t think anyone would ever say those words to me again and mean them, after… after… you know. And by the time I even realised she was serious, she thought I was… rejecting her. If only I’d just… I could have said it back! Told her how I really feel about her! She bared her heart to me and what did I do? God I’m just… I’m terrible, Asra. I should never have… never have…” “Never have what? Let someone love you?” “Exactly!” he cried, “No good ever comes of it, all that’s happened is that she’s hurt. I can never forgive myself.” “Alexander-” “Her-her name for me, it meant fucking knight, Asra. And she said that because she thought I was good, and gentle, and I can’t even tell her the truth about how I feel? I still haven’t even told her the whole truth about my family-” “Alexander-” “-and even the godsdamned cards were telling me what to do and I still couldn’t do it, god’s strike me what’s wrong with me-?”

“Sacha,” Asra interrupted flatly, folding their arms, “for a very smart man you’re being a complete blockhead. Did you not even consider trying to, I don’t know, talk to her? Clear everything up?” “What good would it do? I’d make things worse. That’s what I do, I fuck things up then make them worse. She probably hates me now, and you know what? She should. That’s easier than loving me.”

Asra frowned, setting their mug down and taking Alexander’s from him, placing it on the bedside table, “You can’t hide up here for the rest of your life.” “Says you.” “Yes, says I. Well, you know what I think you should do, even if you’re going to be a stubborn mule about it. But in the meantime, you need to get out of the house. Get some air.” “I don’t want any air.”

Asra raised an eyebrow, “Of course you don’t. Doesn’t change the fact that you need some.” “...you’re not going to quit until I agree, are you.”

Asra cracked a small smirk, “Nope. There’s that showcase at the palace later in the week. I think it’d been good if you came with me.”

Alexander looked hesitant, “You know I’m not good at parties. And the courtiers...” “I’ll be with you.” “What if...what if Vissenta is there. I won’t know what to do, what to say.” “If you see her, you see her. If you don’t, you don’t. I think it would be good for you to go, nevertheless. It’ll be fun, Sacha - don’t give me that look, it will - there’ll be good food, good drink, and a lot to learn. You’ll enjoy yourself, even if you’re determined to be miserable for the foreseeable future.”

Alexander looked at him dolefully, “You’re sure?” “I am. And you do deserve a nice evening of fancy stuff and magic, regardless of what has happened, believe me,” Asra’s face was serious again, and they took Alexander’s hands in their own, “things will resolve themselves. You still love Vissenta, don’t you?” “Of course I do,” Alexander replied, “I can’t stop thinking about her...and how I want to make it right. I owe her at least that, even if I don’t think she’ll ever accept me again.” “Then you’ll make it right. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, or this week, or this month, but you will. I know it.”

Alexander sniffed, feeling tears prick at his eyes again. Asra slung an arm round Alexander’s lanky shoulders and pulled him in tightly. Faust coiled herself round his neck in a light squeeze, joining in. 

“Thank you, Asra,” Alexander murmured against the fabric of their shirt, “gods… I’m a fucking fool, aren’t I.” “Yes,” Asra replied, rubbing Alexander’s shoulders affectionately, “you are. And for someone who’s a budding recluse, you’re also incredibly overdramatic and a bit obsessed with wallowing.” “...alright, maybe I do wallow sometimes.”

Asra snorted,  “Come on, let’s get some outfits together for the showcase. I’m determined to finally get you in some nice clothes. It would make a nice change.”

“You’re just being a dick now,”

“A dick who is going to make sure you look stunning,” they said, pulling them both to their feet and gradually easing Alexander out of the darkened pit of his room, and out into the sunlit street.

[baronmpontmercy]

Fantine's invited the MacRionnags over, and I love how Alexander and Morgaine swooped in dramatically on their brooms (they’re both witches), whereas poor Meirneal is just sort of. Sidling along.

[devoraqs]

11. welcome home kisses + 21. “we’ll face this together” kisses

11. welcome home kisses & 21. “we’ll face this together” kisses

Under cut for length!

From the moment they had set foot on Cumbran soil, anxiety had sat at the bottom of Alexander’s stomach like a cold, weighted stone. He and Reidunn had been well on their way back to Vesuvia from Longyearbyen, staying a week with Meirneal and Morgaine in Nalba, when the missive had found them. The missive, bearing the swirling red dragon and triskelion of the Cumbran royal seal that bore a direct order from Queen Nimue requesting (or demanding) their presence at court in a fortnight’s time. 

In hindsight, they could have just ignored it and gone back to Vesuvia anyway. What could the Cumbri have done, hunt them down and bring them back in chains? They weren’t criminals or fugitives, they were newlyweds who were eager to return home after their honeymoon. Nevertheless, Meirneal had advised that the right thing to do would be to respond and honour the Queen’s request. A week and a half later they arrived at Neuadd y Brenin, high on its hilltop and looming over the towns and villages in the valleys below. 

Neuadd y Brenin was maybe not as impressive as the palace in Vesuvia, but the castle was still resplendent in white marble, the turrets and spires reaching into the skies and the standard fluttering in the breeze. 

“Oh my,” Reidunn had breathed half to herself when the castle became visible over the horizon, “it’s beautiful…”

She turned on her horse and caught sight of her husband’s face. Alexander had gone nearly as pale as the high stone curtain walls, his hands gripping his reins tightly. She reached out and brushed her hand over the top of his comfortingly. Seemingly broken from his reverie, Alexander jumped.

“Sacha,” Reidunn prompted gently, “ are you alright?”

She felt she knew the answer without him having to say anything. 

Alexander bit his lip hard and let out a sharp breath through his nose,

“The sooner we arrive, the sooner we can leave,” he muttered, voice clipped.

“Exactly,” she nodded, squeezing his hand.

She nudged her horse closer so they were side by side, and leaned up so she could press a soft kiss to her husband’s frowning lips,

“You aren’t alone, my beloved,” she said, “we’re in this together. We can face this together.”

Alexander returned her kiss, cupping her chin in his hands,

“Thank you, cariad,” he murmured against her lips, “I’m glad for that.”

Her lips were warm against his cold ones, and for a moment his fears dissipated. In between more kisses, she tucked an errant red curl behind his ear and held him as closely as they could manage while on horseback. 

Eventually she broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together, offering him a hopeful smile that he hesitantly returned.

“I suppose we’ll soon found out how good a Cumbran teacher you are,” she quipped, 

“Aye,” he replied, almost chuckling, “I suppose we will.”

Alexander tried to keep a brave face the rest of the journey, but by the time they passed under the iron trellis gate and into the bright lights of the main courtyard, the pit of anxiety had reformed in his stomach and his hands were beginning to shake. They were ushered off their horses and led through the large castle doors and the subsequent maze of hallways by several servants and the chamberlain, who had the good grace to mask his disdain with an artificial smile and not mention Reidunn’s tail. He had swooped into a low boy, addressing Alexander and Reidunn as “My lord and lady,” and Alexander thought he was going to be sick. He felt Reidunn curl her hand around his and he clung to it like a lifeline. 

The vast carved door of the throneroom was suddenly before them. Alexander knew every single whorl and chink of wood in that door from hours of staring at it as a child. A scratch on the top right panel that looked like a lightning bolt, a chip in the carving towards the bottom that his grandmother had made. He swallowed hard.

“Welcome home, my lord,” the chamberlain had said before he disappeared out of a side door, leaving Reidunn and Alexander alone in front of the door, knowing Alexander’s mother was on the other side. He didn’t feel at home. Home wasn’t here.

Home was his and Reidunn’s life together. The future they were looking forward to. 

No, more than that. Home was Reidunn. 

Alexander breathed in deeply and turned to his wife,

“I love you,” he said quietly, pressing a light, gentle kiss to her lips, “home is wherever I’m with you. Even here.”

“I love you too,” she replied, chasing his kiss up with one of her own.

As they parted, the door began to creak open.

[devoraqs]

The As-Yet Untitled Summer Fling Crackfic

Part One

This whole fic is pure self-indulgent silliness, but I’m posting it anyway. 

~ 850 words

Set circa eleven years before the main game storyline; Alexander is about nineteen, Valerius around twenty, and Lucio in his late twenties/early thirties. No canon characters appear in this part as it’s mostly setup for the main action, and backstory.

I.

Summer brought long evenings, hot weather, and the end of studies for students at the university at Zadith, and after a long week of travel from his university dwelling back to Vesuvia, Alexander’s father met him a few leagues outside the city walls. His father was a welcome sight after many months away from home; this semester had been a difficult one for Alexander, which had made him all the more eager to come home and put it out of his mind. Their horses ambled slowly home as the sun sunk into the horizon, while the two men chatted. Finally, Alexander felt like he was relaxing. That is, until his father said,

“Ah. Yes, I almost forgot. We...received a message from the Cumbran court last week.”

Oh. Brilliant. Thinking about his mother was precisely what Alexander wanted to do then,

“What did it say? I visited my mother some months back, before the spring semester started again, surely she isn’t asking to see me again?”

Meirneal shook his head

“No, though be fair to your mother. You see her three times a year at most. It’s to do with Gwenhwyfar.”

“My half-sister? Is everything alright?” 

“Yes, yes, she’s fine. She’s fifteen now, yes?”

“Nearly. She’ll be fifteen in two months’ time. Why?”

“Your mother has decided to send her as an ambassador to Vesuvia this summer, given now she’s at an age that she can take on some responsibilities.”

Alexander frowned,

“ ‘Some responsibilities’? Travelling halfway across the world to a completely different culture at fourteen is more than just ‘some responsibilities’. Surely she isn’t going alone!”

“Of course not, your mother isn’t foolish. She’ll have some courtiers with her-”

“Hm.”

“- and your mother asked you to be her guide.”

Alexander abruptly stopped his horse,

“What?”

Meirneal sighed, stopping his own horse and turning round,

“Sacha-”

“No. I’m not doing it. I won’t be used as a glorified childminder just because my mother has remembered I exist and just happen to live in the city she’s sending her daughter to.”

“Sacha, she isn’t ordering you to do it like you’re one of her subjects. She’s asking, because you’re her son and she trusts you. And apparently your sister asked for you as well.”

Meirneal turned back around and urged his horse to walk on,

“You are an adult, and I can’t force you to do anything. But as your father, and Nimue’s friend, I would like you to consider it.”

Alexander tried to scowl, but it ended up being a petulant pout. It wasn’t that he disliked his half-sister, they got on well. It was everything that would come with it. Gwenhwyfar was the crown princess of Cumbric, Alexander was a bastard son. Going with her would mean following royal protocol and etiquette, as well as enduring the snide looks from his mother’s courtiers who even after twenty years still saw him as their good Queen’s biggest mistake. It would also, presumably, mean going to the Palace and staying there the entire length of Gwenhwyfar’s stay. The Palace loomed above Vesuvia on its hilltop, opulent and imposing. 

Alexander, his father, and stepmother had attended the masquerade a few times, but they had been cloaked by the throng of other Vesuvian partygoers, which made the prospect of going in less daunting. Now, he’d not have that cover. He’d have to sit in audiences with the Vesuvian court, where almost certainly the ‘news’ that he was also Queen Nimue’s child (but not Prince Uthyr’s) would spread like wildfire. Nobles were nobles wherever they were, and they all enjoyed gossiping to the detriment of those they considered lesser. The thought of Count Lucio, cruel and stupid as he was, joining in with jeers of “Bastard Prince” was enough to make Alexander want to turn tail and ride back to Zadith as fast as his horse could take him. 

He was plucked out of that train of thought by something landing heavily on his shoulder and nibbling at his ear. Alexander turned his head slightly to see Lughnasa staring up at him. The magpie cocked her head,

Worried!

“Huh? Lughnasa, what’s wrong?”

Worried. Sister. 

Oh. 

“Why are you worried, ‘Nasa?”

Sister little. Count bad. Worried. 

“You don’t have to be worried. She’ll be fine. It’s not our probl-ow! Gods strike you, Lughnasa!”

She’d given him the corvid equivalent of a scowl and nipped his ear sharply with her beak.

Sister needs us. We help. 

Her ‘voice’ was uncharacteristically stern, and she punctuated her thought with another peck that made Alexander wince, 

“...you’re not going to let up until I agree, are you.”

She bobbed her head in lieu of a nod. 

Alexander sighed. She did have a point. The Vesuvian court was a big place, and while Gwenhwyfar was savvy and could probably hold her own, she was also a child and wouldn’t have asked for her half-brother had she not thought she needed him. And, well… it would be nice to be able to spend time with her. She was his sister, after all. He could put up with court life for a month or two for that. 

[devoraqs]

Bambi and Zootopia for both?

Zootopia - Would your muse enjoy living in a utopia, or would they feel out of place?

Neither would, I think. Alexander is far too sceptical of things to thrive in an environment where Everything Is Perfect all the time, and while the concept of everyone being happy might appeal to Caspian, it would foster their worst traits. 

Bambi - What is your muse’s relationship with their parents like?

Caspian did have a very privileged upbringing in that their mums are incredibly loving and supportive, and they have a very good relationship. It got a little strained when the plague began, because their mothers, Charlotte especially, were very protective and wanted their child home before they got hurt. I think their relationship was the easiest for Caspian to rebuild once they started getting memories back, because their mums were just elated to have their child back. 

Alexander’s is... a lot more Complicated, so I think it might have to go under a cut.

I’ll preface by saying that his parents love him. A lot. He was his mother Nimue’s first child and is his father Meirneal’s only child. However. 

Nimue is a monarch. Alexander, as he is illegitimate, is not counted as royalty and so is a bit of a pariah. His birth caused a scandal at court (Nimue was unmarried at the time and his father was a commoner from a neighbouring country), and as a result a lot of senior nobles didn’t like him much. Nimue never had him legitimised or given a title, partially because when Alexander was old enough to understand what that meant he didn’t want one anyway, so his place at court was never elevated beyond “Queen Nimue’s bastard”. When Alexander was about five, Nimue married Uthyr, and quickly had Alexander’s sister Gwenhwyfar, who was true born, and therefore a princess and the heir to the Cumbran throne. As a result, Gwenhwyfar became the centre of attention because, as an heir, she was more important. It wasn’t that Nimue had her first daughter and forgot her son existed, far from it; she still loved her son and doted on him, but she never got to know him. When, when he was seven, he began living with his father full time and only visited Cumbric a few times a year and it quickly became very formal. When Alexander was fifteen, he even stopped calling her ‘mother’, swapping to ‘your majesty’ like any other commoner would. Uthyr is technically his stepfather, but like other nobles, he didn’t care about the boy at all to the point where he would ignore him. He wouldn’t even acknowledge or speak to him. In Uthyr’s eyes, there was only one child in the household, and it was his. 

I think you could class Alexander’s upbringing in the Cumbran court as emotional neglect, even if he was well cared for otherwise. 

It goes without saying that he’s closer to his dad, right?

Meirneal absolutely adored his son, and was determined to give him a good life, even though Meirneal’s life meant a lot of travelling and never being in the same place twice. Alexander ended up having very similar interests to his father, especially astronomy and astrology (their surname, MacRionnag, mean ‘son of the star’), so they bonded over Meirneal teaching him everything he wanted to know. None of the social structures and stigma applied here, unlike Nimue Meirneal was allowed to love his son openly and spend as much time with him as possible. Their relationship was always a good one, and this continued into Alexander’s teenage years and adulthood.

Secretly, Meirneal hoped that Alexander wouldn’t have magic. Magic runs through the Cumbran royal family and Nimue, as the Queen, is an accomplished magician. Meirneal has some sensitivities to magic, but has no command over it or understanding of it, and so Alexander being magic would be difficult. However, when Alexander started showing clear signs of magic, Meirneal set his judgements aside for his son’s sake. Alexander grew to really appreciate this.

His ‘aunt’ Morgaine eventually became his stepmother when she married Meirneal after a few years in Vesuvia. She’d always been very fond of Alexander, and was a second mother to him as well as his magic teacher. She also was far better at helping her stepson deal with his romantic drama when it eventually cropped up and totally didn’t matchmake him and Asra. 

Tl;dr, his relationship with his mother is on good terms but quite restrained, he has no relationship with his stepfather, and his dad and stepmum have a great relationship with him.