#oh and i like the docks and urchins

[thedeafprophet]

everyone has like a few flondon factions they care about and the rest fall to the wayside

but we all join in hating the constables

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐑… 𝐍𝐎. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you were once a feared name on the sea--once, but not anymore. your downhill life takes a turn when you decide to rob a pirate ship, and it happens to belong to one of your big brothers.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: luffy's sister!reader x strawhats

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: smoking, mysterious backstory ooooo ahhhh, fluff and minimal angst, not enireeeely satisfied with this but its left off kinda open-ended so ill likely return to this scenario later

Now, the Strawhat Pirates were used to not knowing much about their captain’s past. He has a brother with flame powers? Sure thing. A Marine Vice Admiral for a grandfather? Okay, that’s fine. Monkey D. Dragon is his father? Whatever, they’ve heard crazier. 

But really, at this point, they might want to just sit him down and get all of it out in the open. 

Usopp wandered through a busy marketplace, Luffy’s shirtsleeve in his tight vice. Sanji tailed them as an extra precaution, one eye on his supply list and the other on the ready-to-bolt captain. 

Luffy huffed indignantly, tugging at Usopp’s grip. “I wanna explore.”

“And we want to get out of here in a timely manner,” Usopp quipped back.

And they just might have done just that, if not for the hooded figure running right through Luffy and Usopp, parting their hands. A street vendor shouted curses after them, shaking a fist. “S-Stop! Hey!”

It was no use; the thief was too far away, and the man was too old to have the energy to chase them. He slumped his shoulders and pinched his brow, raising his gaze to find the stares of Luffy, Sanji, and Usopp zeroed in on him. “What? You plan on robbin’ the old man too?”

Sanji removed his cigarette from between his teeth with a shake of his head. “Sorry. What’d they steal? Maybe we can get it back for you?”

The old man shook a dismissive hand, frown deeply set on his face. “Agh. Don’t bother. You kids don’t get yerself wrapped up with her.” That was all it took for their prying curiosity to close in on him, and suddenly the man was surrounded on all sides. “Hey, now…”

“Who?” Luffy demanded first, head cocked to the side. 

Lips agape, he shook his head and jabbed a thumb at the wanted poster pinned up to the wall beside his fruit stand. “That’s her, if you’re so curious. Been robbin’ us blind all month! The marines tried to catch ‘er, but no one can touch the bitch.”

Usopp rushed over and swiped the poster down, skimming it over with a hum. “Doesn’t look too tough. I bet we can take ‘er.”

The man rolled his eyes. “That’s what we all said.”

Sanji peeked over the sharpshooter’s shoulder as he let out a puff of smoke. He blinked, cheeks growing warm the longer he gazed at the woman pictured. “She’s… beautiful.”

Usopp squinted at the slightly faded writing scrawled under the picture. “Wanted dead or…” He snorted. “Nope, that’s it. Just dead for 40,000,000 berri.”

“Lemme see!” Luffy sidled up to Usopp and stared right at the poster’s center, recognition settling in instantly. You looked older, but that wasn’t the biggest change—joy had returned to your smile, your beaming expression showcasing a side of you he hadn’t seen since before Sabo died. 

An unbridled laugh left him as he took the poster roughly, shoving Usopp aside. “Hey! That’s my little sister!”

“Oh,” Usopp hummed, taking a moment to process before his brows vaulted and he shot Sanji a look. “WHAT?!”

જ ⁀ ➴

You slinked through the streets toward the docks, hood hung low over your face, cheshire grin shrouded by shadow. You rolled a slice of mango around your tongue, sighing now that your hunger was satisfied. 

You wanted to pay the guy—honest! But being an enemy of the state didn’t exactly pay well, and a mercenary’s gotta eat. 

Waiting for a donkey cart to roll past, you bolted over to the wooden boardwalk just in front of the port. Nobody paid you any mind, assuming you to be one of the street urchins that made up the local gangs. You only meant to play a small joke on the young sailor you’d grown acquainted with, make his life just a bit more difficult, when your path was halted by the sight of a new ship docked at port.

It was a pretty caravel, a little rough around the edges from weather and climate, with a masthead of a goat peering out at the city. A pirate ship, for certain. A grin itched its way up your face. A pirate ship meant treasure, and there wasn’t much in this life you liked more than treasure. 

Well, there was one thing, but unfortunately, your brothers were scattered across the sea—two alive, one not so much. The thought had you stumbling over your own feet, righting yourself swiftly before you headed for the caravel. You mumbled pathetically to yourself, like you had been since you left your home village some years ago. The life of a mercenary is a lonely one. 

“Wonder what they’ve got, huh, Sabo.” Gazing up at the clouds, you grinned. The wind whistled through your hair, and your coping mechanism fell through. It’d been doing that a lot lately. Sighing out your troubles, you shook out your shoulders and crept up the gangway. 

A girl stood watch, facing the sea on the other side of the ship. At the helm, a swordsman lay sleeping. Other than that, it was empty. Just a skinny-limbed girl and a lazy warrior. Perfect.

You slipped on board without a sound, living up to your title as The Silent Death. Well, nobody had called you that in a few years, not since you were twelve and stormed Marine Headquarters looking for your grandfather. You hadn’t found the Vice Admiral, but you had given them a reason for renovation. You possessed the Terra-Terra Fruit, and the earth rumbled at your command. At least you still held the name Earthshaker.

Your first wanted poster had been a shot of you sailing away, laughing in the face of the destruction. A force of nature, they called you. Hired by pirates, warlords, and royalty to do their less than noble deeds. But that was a long time ago. Now, you were nothing more than a petty thief, loneliness and grief taking its toll after so long repressing it.

But never the matter! After this last loot, you’d have the money to buy back your ship, get off that godforsaken island, and finally restore yourself to your former glory. Then Ace would never call you on your little snail transponder and laugh at your series of failures.

“Hey.” You glanced up from where you were crouching behind a barrel, locking eyes with the girl as she blinked surprisedly. Her hand itched toward a weapon at her side. 

“Shit.” You cursed yourself and your inner-monologuing tendencies. “Bye!”

You darted up and made for the edge of the ship when a sword whizzed past your faze, narrowly missing your chin. The swordsman rose, alert as ever, two more swords ready at his side. You scoffed, huffing, “Why do you need three?”

Three… Two… One.

Eyes widened, you realized you knew that lazy swordsman (whose swords probably overcompensated for something) just as he started to recognize you as well. He jumped down to the deck, approaching warily as the girl came to stand beside him. 

Roronoa Zoro muttered your name like a curse. “What’re you doing here, huh?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you murmured back, genuinely curious. “What’re you doin’ on a pirate ship, pirate hunter?”

“Change in career path,” he snapped. “We don’t appreciate stowaways. Especially not a backwater odd-job dog clinging to her glory days.”

You tsked. “Now, now. I was just having a look around. No harm done.” You swept a bow, flicking your wrist as you searched out the sea floor far down below. “I’ll be going now.”

With your head bowed, they didn’t catch your growing smirk until it was too late; the oceanic crust spread across the floor, magma exposed to the salty sea at an unnatural speed. The water rocked the ship and all those around, the nearby sailors murmuring worriedly.

“Hey, I may be a loser,” you admitted, picking at a cuticle as their glares shifted to concern. “But I’m still the Earthshaker, Roronoa. Now, how about some financial compensation for my bruised pride, before I capsize this sorry excuse for a boat.”

The girl scoffed in reply, brows vaulted. “Yeah, no thanks. We’re very attached to our beri.”

“You are,” Roronoa yelped. “Give her something before we lose the ship!”

Lips pursed, the girl looked ready to either attack you or give up, so you worsened the sea’s uproar just to give her a scare. A relent was on the tip of her tongue when her gaze darted over your shoulder, relief flooding her features. “Luffy!”

The sea floor closed up in an instant, the color leaving your face. “Luffy?”

A body flung into your back, tackling you to the deck. You bit back curses, wriggling free, when that laugh hit the back of your neck. A million repressed memories surfaced like the magma you controlled, and you were suddenly twelve years old, leaving your last brother in the dead of night to set off on an adventure you thought would fix everything. 

Falling still, you slowly shifted to roll on your back, staring up at the beaming face of Monkey D. Luffy. You pushed up on your elbows, blind to the careful stares of those around, and gulped down some air. “Luffy?”

He chuckled gently, murmuring your name in turn, and you lurched forward to wring your arms around his neck. A tiny piece of your heart was put back in place (only a third of it, and you figured it would only be whole when you died and rejoined the brother lost). 

Leaving home so young was a shitty miscalculation on your part. You’d fled Dawn Island some time after Ace, and some time before Luffy. Your not-so-big-more-like-twin brother always said you’d set out together, that one day he would be Pirate King and you would all be happy. But you left without ever saying goodbye, joined up with a crew of mercenaries, ate a devil fruit, and searched out Grandpa Garp for some answers about where you came from. And years passed and you could never admit your mistake—not until you spotted Luffy’s smiling face in the wanted poster he always thought you would share. 

You leaned back and caught his eye, scurrying to sit on your knees. You wiped at your eyes as embarrassing tears started to well up. “I… I dunno…”

He knocked his head against yours, eliciting a sharp ow! from you. Luffy grinned cheekily as you nursed your temples. “You owe me an apology. So you can start there.”

And the fire sprang up in your throat all over again. Pathetic, you choked it all down with a nod. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. With S-Sabo gone and Ace gone… I thought for sure you’d be gone too soon enough… so I left you before you could leave me.”

You looked away sheepishly, rubbing at your arms. Luffy just flicked the side of your head and offer you the same bright expression he always did; it was the expression that gave you hope your life wasn’t totally screwed over, not yet anyways. “It’s okay—S’ long as you know it was stupid.”

You rolled your eyes and stood as he did the same. His hand never strayed far from your shoulder, holding you there like you might bolt away. Luffy gave a laugh and turned to face his friends, and only then did you remember you weren’t alone. You pivoted to face them all, locking eyes with a less-than-pleased Zoro.

“What’d going on, Luffy?” Zoro grunted, and if possible Luffy’s smile grew.

He took both your shoulders and shook you a little. “This is my little sister!”

You scoffed. “Little my ass! We’re the same age!”

Luffy held up his palm to his own height, then dipped it down to around your collarbone. “But you were always little-er, and Ace got to call you little!”

“Because he’s older than me!”

“Wait,” Zoro butted in just as you prepped to launch yourself at Luffy. “Sister? You never mentioned a sister.”

Luffy nocked his head to the side, lips pursed. “I didn’t?”

“No.”

“Huh.” He laughed it off. “But this is great! We saw Ace a while back in Alabasta, y’know.”

Nodding, you twined your hands behind your back and rocked on your heels. “Yeah, I caught ‘im a few months ago.”

The reunion met a halt when Luffy asked, “What’re you doing here, anyway?”

Nami jutted out a hip and settled you with a look. “She threatened to take down the Merry if we didn’t hand over our beri.”

Luffy’s brows vaulted, lips a thin line as he turned to you. You chuckled awkwardly. “That is something I did, yes.”

But that wasn’t what occupied him. “How did you nearly sink the ship?”

“Oh.” You swirled your palms, gathering the granules of rock and dirt scattered around the deck and collecting it all in a tiny twister. “I got the Terra-Terra Fruit a few years ago.”

His eyes brighetend like stars. “That’s so cool!”

Usopp faced Sanji with a slack jaw. “What is it with their family and devil fruits?”

“Hello?” Nami waved a hand between you and Luffy. “She tried to rob us, Luffy.”

You inched away from her with a small smile. “Sorry about that. Desperate times, yeah?”

Despite the frowns set on everyone’s faces, you had a good feeling you would win them all over. You were just too charming, after all. Casting a look around, a familiar ache gnawed at your stomach. “Uhm, have you got any food?”

જ ⁀ ➴

The crew quickly decided that Ace was their favorite of the family. 

While Ace was polite, generous, and charming, you and Luffy were cut from the very same cloth. Messy and loud, the only difference was that you were slightly more aware of your surroundings than your brother.

“Yeah, she and Luffy were always tied at the hip,” said Ace, his voice crackling to life from the transponder snail Sanji pulled out one late night. “Just… don’t be too harsh on her. She’s had a rough few months.”

Sanji had no clue what that meant, but he almost wanted to find out, not just because you’re pretty. A shadowy look always eclipsed your face, no matter how big your smile got. Over the few weeks you’d spent on the Going Merry, Sanji tried to get to know your story, but you never answered more than a few sentences before disappearing the whole afternoon.

“You knew her from before,” he said to Zoro one morning, stopping the swordsman as they traded spots for the night watch. “Do you know anything?”

Zoro adjusted his swords at his hip, chewing at his cheek. “All I know is a couple years ago, she was one of the most wanted mercenaries on the East Blue. Now, she’s a shadow of that person on the Grand Line. Isn’t that just what this place does?”

“Maybe…” But Sanji knew better. Maybe he was so concerned because he knew that sometimes, on days darker and gloomier than the rest, he had that same look in his eye. So he caught you one night watch when you had no choice but to lean against the ship rail and deal with his company.

He took a long drag from a cigarette, preparing what he’d say, when you nudged him and reached out to take the smoke from him. Sanji scoffed a laugh as he handed it off, watching you inhale deep and expel it in a puff, your eyes heavy. “Wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” You took another drag.

“Whatever it is you thought of.”

From the way your face darkened, Sanji thought you might stub the cig on the deck and leave him there to take your watch, but you only stood there, head hung between your shoulders. You gave him back his smoke hesitantly. 

“For the longest time,” you sighed, “I wanted so badly to know where I come from.” Sanji tilted his head in unspoken question. “Me and Luffy aren’t reallys siblings. We’re adopted, I guess.”

“Ah.” That made all your similarities a little more uncanny, but it made sense. You didn’t really look like Luffy anyway. “And… you found out?”

You nodded shortly, picking at a splinter in the rail. “Not to long ago. I always imagined that my parents loved me, and that we got separated by some tragedy that left me on Dawn Island.” Your voice broke off hollowly. “But that’s not it at all.”

He didn’t say anything when you started crying, and he didn’t ask what exactly plagued your past. Sanji just… stood there, offered you a cloth from his pocket, and waited till you compeod yourself to give you his cigarette. 

“Thank you,” you whispered as the sun peeked up over the sea. 

“No need. I’m here if you want to talk. All of us are, really.”

You doubted that, but you sent him a smile and descended to the girl’s cabin for some sleep. Nami and Robin remained sleeping softly as you slipped into bed, staring up at the ceiling wide awake. Your slammed the heels of your palms to your eyes, silently screaming into the air. 

“Why,” you hissed. “Why did I cry?”

Sheets rustled across the room, and suddenly Robin’s eyes glinted at you. “You were crying?”

“Who’s crying?” Nami yawned as she pushed up on her elbows.

You just about buried yourself in your blanket and suffocated yourself, face warming over. “No one! Go to sleep.”

“Can’t,” Nami snapped back. “You practicality stomped in here. I’m thoroughly awake.”

“Same here.” Robin and Nami shifted to face you from their beds, sleepy eyes hooded as they gazed upon you. “What’s the matter?”

You sat quiet as a mouse, eyes wide and caught, until you flopped over on your side and pulled your blanket up to your chin. “Sorry I woke you.”

The two Strawhats locked eyes, brows equally raised. They’d been conspiring to figure you out ever since you joined their adventures, and this certainly added fuel to their investigative fire. Because as much as you laughed and played and made messes everywhere you went, a great shadow lurked behind you—and everyone could see it.

Like a lingering ghost of a past you’d rather forget, something haunted followed your every move. From the way you cast glances over your shoulder at every port to how you fell into frightening silence at certain points in conversation, the entire Strawhat Crew felt the way darkness pulled at you.

And they would find out why—Whether you liked it or not, they would find a way to help you.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@100520s

[alisonwritesimagines]

Your Eyes Whispered "Have We Met?" ~LA! Shanks x Reader~

Summary: Set in the Enchanted series. You meet Shanks but you aren't sure if you could trust him.

Author’s Note: I can't wait for more Shanks in season 2.

Based in my Enchanted series

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: fluff

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

You sat on the porch with Luffy, teaching him how to do some simple math. Luffy was a child that the Marine Vice Admiral Garp had asked you to take care of and educate him while he tend to his Marine duties. You were a smart woman with your father and mother being educators who taught in villages before settling in Windmill village.

"Math is stupid. Why do I have to learn it?" Luffy asked frustrated.

"I get that it can be challenging or upsetting but you need to know at least the basics," you tell him.

"Can we go to the docks later?" Luffy asked you.

"Tell you what, if you can finish this math sheet and get only five wrong, we'll go to the docks," you promised.

"Okay. Deal."

Luffy was smart. Even if you had to teach him in ways that were different, he was still smart. And you kept your promise by taking him to the docks to see the oncoming ships that came by to drop off some food or other goods.

"Woah! Y/n look! A pirate ship," Luffy says as he pointed at the large ship that stuck out from the other ships.

"Yeah. Why don't we go visit Makino," you tell him as you led him away.

Makino owned the bar in the village but she was one of your close friends.

"Go ahead and sit down. I'm just going to have a word with Makino," you tell Luffy.

"Okay."

"Makino, don't be too alarm. But there are pirates here," you tell her.

"Not again."

"I know. Just thought you should be prepared," you tell her.

"Thanks. Where's Luffy?" She asked. You turned around to see Luffy gone from his seat.

"Oh no. Luffy!" You called out before rushing out.

Luffy stood by the pirate ship as he stared at the crew. He had heard of pirates from his grandfather and Y/n but he never got to see them up close.

"What's this little urchin doing on our ship?" He heard. He looked up scared to see a man standing before him.

"I'm sorry."

"Where's your parents? A kid like you shouldn't be on a ship like ours," the man said.

"What's going on?" Luffy heard another man ask. Luffy looked over to see a tall man with crimson red hair that was covered with a straw hat.

"Captain. Found this kid wandering onto our ship," the crew member told him.

"What's your name?" The captain asked Luffy as he squatted down to his eye level.

"Luffy."

"Well, Luffy, do you know where the village bar is at?" The captain asked.

"Yeah. I can show you," Luffy nodded.

"Perfect. Come on lads, let's get ourselves a drink," the captain said.

"Who are you?" Luffy asked.

"You can call me Shanks. I'm the captain of this pirate crew."

"You don't seem so mean."

"Who said I was mean?"

"My grandfather. And my caretaker," Luffy tells him.

"Your caretaker huh? Maybe I should change their mind on me then huh?" Shanks smiled.

"Luffy!" You yelled out. Luffy and Shanks looked over as they heard your yell.

Luffy rushed over to the edge of the boat and looked down on the docks. Shanks looked down at the docks as well to see who was yelling for Luffy. He watched as Luffy smiled and waved at you as you looked up at him with your hands on your hips.

"Monkey D. Luffy! You better come down here right now or else!" You yelled at him. You crossed your arms as you stared up at him.

"Coming!" Luffy said. The crew chuckled as they watched the kid rush down to you after getting in trouble.

So that's his caretaker, Shanks thought to himself before heading down as well.

"What were you thinking? You know better than to go onto dangerous ships," you tell Luffy with a stern look.

"I know but-"

"I apologize if you were worried," you looked up to see a man in a straw hat walking over towards you and Luffy. You pulled Luffy closer to you before moving him behind you.

"The little lad was just curious. He wasn't in any danger if that makes you feel any better."

"It's not just that. It's just that you're a... you're a..." You tried to find the right words to say without insulting him, risking you in danger.

"A pirate? I can guarantee to you that I'm not like any other pirate captain," he tells you.

"And how can I believe you?" You asked him.

"Why don't you join me in a drink and I'll change your mind?" He asked you.

"I think I'll have to pass. We need to get going anyway," you tell him before rushing away with Luffy.

The next day was the beginning of your weekend off as Luffy was with his grandfather for the weekend. You brought some fruit and vegetables to Makino so she could get her first pick before you sold the rest to the rest of the village.

"You know those pirates that came in yesterday aren't so bad," Makino tells you.

"How so?"

"They're nice. And they pay," Makino tells you. You shook your head at her before helping her put some of the liquor that came in away on her shelves.

"The captain seems interested in you," she points out.

"Who's the captain?" You asked.

"The one with the red hair and the straw hat," Makino says with a smirk.

"Don't give me that look," you say, nudging her.

"I'm just saying. You should get to know him."

You shook your head at her before grabbing your basket and heading out to the village. You set up your small stand before sitting down on your chair and picking up your book to continue reading.

"This is nice little stand that you have," you heard. You looked up from your book to see the same pirate from yesterday.

"Oh. It's you," you say as you put your bookmark into your book.

"How much for the fruit?" The man asked.

"It's just two berry a piece," you tell him.

"Seems a little cheap for some good fruit," the man tells you.

"I get paid well for taking care of Luffy. This just gives me something extra to get him some treats for doing well on his homework or some other stuff for me," you tell him.

"Well in that case, I'd like to buy everything you have."

"Why would you do that?" You asked.

"I'd like to get to know you and how can I do that if you're behind this stand all day?" He asked you.

"You could always just join me behind the stand," you offered.

"True. But I would also like to grab a drink," the man winked. You shook your head at him before standing up.

"Alright. A hundred berry for all of them," you tell him. The man gave you the money before taking the fruit and vegetables.

"I'll meet you at the bar then?" You asked him as you closed up your stand.

"I’ll be there after I drop these off," the man winked at you.

You headed over to Makino's bar and sat on a stool to wait for the pirate captain. Makino gave you a look as she walked over towards you.

"Sold your food already?" Makino asked you.

"That pirate captain bought it all," you tell her.

"So you spoke to him?"

"A little. He's meeting me here for a drink."

Makino gave you a smirk before pouring a drink for you and one for the pirate. You looked over at the entrance to see the pirate walking in.

"Glad to see you had a drink ready for me," he said with a smile. He sat next to you before taking a drink of the alcohol.

"You know, I never got your name," you tell him.

"Where are my manners? I'm Shanks."

"Nice to meet you, Shanks. I'm Y/n," you smiled as you offered a handshake. He took your hand into his before placing a kiss on the top of your hand.

"Smooth," you say with a small laugh.

"How else am I suppose to impress a beautiful woman like you?" Shanks asked you. You shook your head at him before taking a swing at your drink.

"Where is Luffy?" Shanks asked.

"He's with his grandfather right now. A couple days off for me," you tell him.

"I see. Do you often get days off?" Shanks asked you.

"Not really. So I try to relax before Luffy comes back."

"I guess this gives us a couple days to ourselves to get to know each other," Shanks smiled. You smiled at him before looking down at your drink.

"Will you show me your pirate ship?" You asked him.

"Want to see it now while it's empty?" Shanks asked you. You nodded before putting some berry down for Makino.

"I got this," Shanks said before replacing your berry with his.

"I can pay for stuff too you know."

"True but I like to find treasure so berry doesn't mean much to me. Though, I think I found some good treasure in this village," Shanks tells you with a smile.

"Come on Captain," you say as you took his hat and put it on yours. "Take me on a tour of your ship."

"As you wish," Shanks smiled before taking you over.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

ok its 1 am so obviously perfect time for thinking about muriel, so picture this ok check this out. you are 6 years old, you are an orphan living on the streets since maybe age 5 in the slums of a mediterranean city in the 16thish century. school does not exist. you do not have anybody that cares about you or loves you youre terrified of people and making contact with them. you have been alive on this bitch of an earth for 6 years and so far its not looking all that great

and THEN one day your teeth start falling out at regular intervals. what the fuck do you even think at that. do other street kids let you know that yea this is a thing its fine or do they take the opportunity to have what little fun they can score as fellow street urchins and make fun of you and tell you its a curse or youre dying or something. do you just go in a safe corner by yourself somewhere and cry or are you desensitized enough at this point to your life of perpetual fucking misery to just space it out and see where it takes you. i started this off as a funny lil thought but now im just trying to figure out how quickly would a kid in circumstances like that figure out whats goin on like that is not shit you just have inscribed in ur brain i reckon somebody would probly need to tell you whats up like ok theres a lot of things you probably learn by the time you hit puberty if you live out on the streets in a big city youve seen ur fair share of peeps suckin n fuckin out and about in the dark of night if you happened to be awake in the wrong place wrong time but 1. sir That is a Baby and 2 unless theres a load of other kids your age around who is gonna just go up to you n tell you oh btw your teeth are just gonna fucking all fall out one day but they should come back dont worry like in WHAT CONtext fhdhhfsfhkgd idk man im a pansy, i have like. parents n shit i have no frame of reference

and then some years later you make friends with another sixyearold and then one day his teeth start falling out. you tell him its fine theyll probably come back

EDIT ok its 2 am and i have now googled how teeth work and i may have forgotten that they do not in fact quote "fucking all fall out one day" BUT a lurk on pubmed has informed me that malnutrition can delay them falling out and new ones growing in BUT ALSO he was in good conditions tho until 3 yo at least so uh. theres. theres that factor. idk its 2 am and im not very smart my gray matter is fully occupied by love for blorbo from dating sim and it has been 5 years and i am RUNNING out of things to make up about him fhgshkfjfdgjtaf

@tetsuooooooooooo you're all good, friend!!

And oh gosh you're so right xD

It's possible one of the other kids on the docks told him what was going on, but with how isolated he was it's also very possible he had no idea what was happening.

Thankfully if a tooth falls out on its own you can often see the adult one already coming in, so he probably didn't have to worry about it for too long ...

[blinddreams24]

Breakfast

A Mermay Prompt

(Note: this is me talking to my old self. I’m projecting myself into these characters and I’m addressing no one specifically. Take it how you will, I hope you enjoy)

Masterlist

Prev / Next

Growl.

“Y/n.”

Embarrassed at the loud noise your stomach just made, you curled into yourself.

Cross glared at you disapprovingly. “Have you eaten anything this morning?”

You could lie. You could lie with such ease. But he would never believe you. Not after that very obvious sound. Your stomach growled again.

Your companion sighed. “You can’t be skipping meals like that. Especially when you’re using up so much energy. What if you got attacked again? Would you even have enough strength to fight back? Defend yourself? Or even call for help?” His voice raised in volume as he got more and more carried away in his rant.

“It won’t happen again.” You grumbled, arms crossed over your knees.

All the righteous anger was suddenly gone and Cross scooted closer to you. “Y/n. I’m not angry at you for not eating. I-…” He glanced back into the water, checking to make sure no one else was listening, before turning pleading eyes back to you. “I’m scared. It’s terrifying. I… I don’t want to lose you, and I know it seems dumb to you. ‘It’s just a few meals, it’s not a big deal. You’re overreacting.’ And yeah, I kinda feel stupid feeling this strongly about it, but,” His hand rested on your knee. “I care about you. I always will. And if something is hurting you, whether now or in the long run, I feel this painfully crushing need to fix it. To heal you, and make you feel better. And if I can’t, I feel like my soul will tear itself in two trying to find a way.” His eyes held pain and truth.

“Oh.”

He smiled at you. “Yeah. Sorry. That was a lot.”

You were lost. And slightly upset but that was fading. It wasn’t that big a deal but he seemed so upset by it. Why would he even care?

“Y’know what, I have an idea.” Cross started again. “There are a few food places near the docks, right?” Nod. “I’ve been wanting to try some of y’all’s food and since your stomach is already rebelling, do you think you could grab something for us to share? I won’t be far, and you won’t have to eat it all if you don’t want to. Do you think that’d be fair?” He gave you a hopeful look.

Dang it, he was using those puppy dog eyes again. There were a few good places by the docks that would be open this early.

“Uh. I can do that.” You shrugged. He needed to eat too. Probably a whole lot more than you. “But, what do you want? There are a few options.”

He shrugged back at you. “Whatever you come across first, I guess. I haven’t actually had legger food.”

“People food.” You corrected.

“Am I not a people?” He teased.

“Nah.” You shot back easily. “You’s a fish.”

“Excuse me!?!” His tail splash violently in the water as you laughed. “I am not a fish! Oh my stars! Go! Go get me food, you little urchin!” He shooed you back up the path to your car.

You… did get food from the first open place you saw. It just wasn’t breakfast food. You didn’t know why they were open this early and the cafẽ wasn’t.

“Ooooh! What is it? It smells good!” Cross looks like an excited puppy whose owner just got home. Waves crashed around him with the force of his tail tossing back and forth.

“It’s called pizza. I’m not sure if you should even eat this.” You admitted.

He tilted his head at you. “Do you eat it?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Then I’m sure it’s fine! I mean, my stomach’s pretty strong and I don’t see you living on a diet of fish.”

“Ugh. Fine. But if you eat too much and get a stomach ache, it’s your own fault.”

“Good.”

You opened the box and handed him a slice before taking your own. It had been a while since you’d eaten out. And he was right. It smelled amazing. You bit into your pizza savoring the taste. Correction: it was amazing.

Out of curiosity, you spared a glance at Cross and nearly choked. His duel-colored eyes were blown wide and his mouth hung slightly open in shock, the pizza sitting on his… tongue.(Skeletons had tongues?) His stunned, love-struck expression was topped off with tears in his eyes.

Once you swallowed your food without choking again, you spoke. “Are you crying?”

His wide eyes focused on you. Remembering himself, Cross chewed and swallowed his pizza before answering. “Am I what?”

“Crying.”

He looked confused. “What’s that?”

If you had food in your mouth, you would have choked again. “I- You- What??”

“What’s crying?”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time! What do you mean ‘What’s crying?!?’ You’re crying right now!!”

“I am?”

“YES?!?!”

“Uh…” He looked down at his hands and pat himself down as if searching for something. “…What exactly does that mean?”

“Ugh!” You pushed yourself to your feet and strode up to him. Reaching up, you gently wiped a tear off his cheek to show him. “This is a tear. Tears come out of your eyes when you cry. Crying can happen when you’re sad, hurt, or even happy. I assume these are happy tears?”

His looked at the tear and reached up, feeling the other tears on his face. “Oh. Yeah, I think it’s happy. I didn’t know I could do that. I guess those would normally get swept away by the ocean.”

“Oh. That makes sense actually.”

His gaze didn’t leave your hand as he slowly reached down and cupped your hand in his own. “Is that why my eyes would hurt when I…” He locked eyes with you and suddenly pulled away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”

You shrugged. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“You’re so small.” He grinned down at you, proving just how much height he had on you and effectively changing the subject.

You huffed. “I am not small! Oh my stars, Cross! You’re just huge! It’s not a fair comparison!”

He chuckled. “What would be a good comparison?”

Killer. “Someone normal sized. Your butt takes up the entire beach.”

“And yet there’s still room for your tiny butt.” He teased.

“That’s it!!! No more pizza!!! I’m eating the rest and you can’t have any!!!”

“Wait! No! I’m sorry! Y/n! No!”

[mekachu04]

Kidd - 4 | Killer - 8

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Dialogue only

Original Characters

Companion to Love Language

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

He'll be five - we should throw him a party.

He'll be five - he wouldn't remember a party.

He will. Cook can bring her boys, and your niece can come.

I do not understand this need of yours to have hundreds of children underfoot.

....

Fine, fine. It's a Tuesday, it'll be slow anyway. We'll close the tavern and throw a party for a five year old.

Oh! I love you so.

You better.

....

What about that little blonde fucker?

Who?

The stabby kid, the dock boys' shadow.

Oh, Killer!

... I shouldn't have expected anything else.

I didn't think you liked him.

I guess I should be happy he bit me instead of stabbing me like he did Anndra.

You scared him!

I though the stevedore was getting handsy with him! I didn't know the bastard was just blackout drunk.

....

What?

I didn't know that was what you were upset about. It's just... very sweet of you.

I just don't want that shit going down in my home. They wanna turn tricks, they can go to the red light like everyone else. Stabby fuck knows that and that's why I let him stay.

My brave knight off to rescue damsels and urchins alike.

Stop.

... Do you think Killer would want to hang out with a bunch of preschoolers?

I think that boy would follow anyone who gave him a soft look into a back alley.

Eustass!

Sorry. I'm.. I'm sorry.

Ph! Don't make me think about such things - I'm never going to let him leave next time if you say things like that.

We can't afford that.

We could...

We already pay cook twice her worth to feed her boys.

Don't word it like that!

What?

Twice her worth - Twice her WORTH - gah. Its gross. Don't say it like that.

We do though. You figure in the free meals and board, she makes more than I do at the end of the day.

Maybe we could hire Killer to work with her.

We can't afford that.

.. I know....

....

...What do you have there?

My mom made it for me when I was little - I found it with her things last summer when...

.. Oh sweetheart...

Its supposed to be Moccus; He was mom's favouite old God. The fierce defender.

Wish we knew she had it a few years ago - it would have been a nice christening gift.

You knew what she was like....

Still.

... Maybe.

Hmm?

... It's bad luck to visit someone without a gift.

... I'm not following.

Stabby boy. Killer. He wont come without a gift. Especially a party. And I can't exactly demand a street kid buy my son a toy.

What if he takes it and runs?

Do you think he would?

...No.

If he did... if he did, I would be sad but... I don't think I'd be mad. He could probably use a fierce defender patron.

[theluckywizard]

Unrequited Hawke/Aveline, a few to combine (or not) as you wish: spooky fall bingo, 'heavy fog'; whumptober, 'it's all for nothing'; whumptober, 'hunting or hunted'

Hiiiii thank you, Ammy! For @dadrunkwriting I had a wonderful time writing a little glimpse into my Hawke's history here!

Pairing: Garrett Hawke x Aveline (unrequited) WC: 860 Content Warning: Dead body Tone: Angst

They stood over a cold body, Aveline and Hawke. The investigation had already gobbled hours of sleep as he postulated late into the night and chased leads across Lowtown. And here in this forgotten corner of the docks, in this forgotten alley, Hawke felt the force of failure grinding at his soul.

Aveline surmised by their limp tissue and the blackened blood on the pavement stones that they’d been murdered yesterday. It couldn’t have been by the Templars, not in an official capacity anyway. But Meredith had been sending mercenaries after those she felt posed a serious threat. Hawke was often one of those people. But this mage was different. A sudden legend on the lips of the harried masses of Lowtown and Hightown alike. An alleged mortalitasi.

“We should hurry,” said Aveline, her tone even though the words suggested nerves. “That fog won’t be our friend in another fifteen minutes.”

He searched the apostate’s body, gingerly lifting pocket flaps and the drape of her robe in search of anything useful but she’d already been picked clean by scavenging urchins and the woman’s staff was nowhere to be seen. It could have just as easily been an unlucky encounter with a desperate someone as it could have been the more unscrupulous templars that Hawke knew sullied the ranks. 

What he wouldn’t reveal to Aveline is that he and her have been searching for her on entirely separate missions. He’d been hired by the apostate herself to track the threats against her as she searched for her younger brother, an escape of the Gallows. Aveline was merely answering Meredith’s open call to secure the streets.

“I suppose the Knight-Commander won’t complain,” said Aveline.

Her indifference smarted inside him. The woman hardly deserved such hardened apathy, far from her home in Nevarra in search of her last remaining family.

“Ah Kirkwall. Where murder is a Maker sent convenience,” retorted Hawke. 

Aveline flicked him a fraught glance that managed to be sisterly, judgmental and rueful all at once. He felt the hopelessness of the years spent pining for her at the deepest levels. Her nigh intractable marriage to the law had severed any possibility of love ages ago but he scrambled to hold onto any remaining thread that connected them. His brow was heavy with regret, layers upon layers of it. 

“Let me guess,” said Aveline. “You haven’t been working for the Order.”

Hawke sighed, scratching a hand in his hair.

“You’re really playing both sides still?” she scolded him. “Maker, Hawke. Look around. You’re going to end up on the wrong side of Meredith at this pace.”

“The mage hired me. Felt like someone was hunting her. Not the Templars though… something worse.”

“As a body guard?”

“No, well. Only the first night or two. But after those nights were quiet it was just to see what I could find out when I put my ear to the ground. And it looks like my ears weren’t sharp enough.”

“Hawke,” she scolded him. “How could you be so foolish?” It was always the same with Aveline. Oh there’d be jokes about it, but the sisterly reproof was a given. He hoped for years that he’d break it but at this point he could only accept the punchline that it had become.

“I can take care of myself,” he answered. “I know you can. But it’ll be a little bit harder when the Templars decide to take you in. Aiding and abetting apostates can be waved off well enough, but a necromancer?”

“Well it’s not like she went around raising all the dead!” he argued.

“But some of the dead is all right? Maker, Hawke,” she said.

Hawke regarded Aveline, the freckles that dusted her cheeks, the deceptively darling sweep of her nose. He searched for the spark that had flickered and glowed inside him for so many years when he looked at her. Their bond had been forged in blood and trial, the narrow escape from Ferelden. The honorable end she gave her first love that he bore witness to. He’d thought it had all meant something, but now his hopes had settled into quiet embers.

“She just wanted to find her brother. He escaped the Gallows two months back—”

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” she muttered, shaking out a sheet and drawing it over the body.

“Likewise,” he answered in a soft, bitter snort.

It had all been for nothing, all those years hoping she’d know him deeply.  Truthfully he wondered if she had the capacity. He chased true justice wherever it lay, inside or outside the confines of the law. Perhaps she’d always hoped to school him, to pull him out of chaos and into order. Perhaps that’s why she kept him close.

Hawke silently made a note to find the lad she’d been looking for and help him get back to Nevarra. It was the least he could do.

The arriving fog stuck against his skin and shrouded all the miserable ambiguities of Kirkwall. The body between him and Aveline was a cold reminder of everything that separated them. Of how wrong he’d been.

And Maker, he hated being wrong.

[ethersierra]

hey can you describe the plot of the last two arcs of ethersea s1 to the best of your ability? I haven’t finished it and I want to listen to it in my head during the ap calc exam tomorrow

Well peter you are in a heap of luck because my answer comes to you like two or three months late! Hurray!!!!

Oh um and if you're my friend Siena, don't read this post!! Spoilers ahead!!!!

Okay. So. The menagerie. Following the shit that happened in cambrias call the crew have saved the city and yada yada they're heroes . They go back to the bluespan brokerage like hey we want a new mission and Ravi is like oh yeah I have this one or the biomass swarm which has been available since day one with Ballaster Kodira but keep running away from it I guess. And Justin is like I'll take the first option. Anyways they go to the conservatory where the curator is and he's like hey uh some of my animals got stolen

And they talk to the horse, well Zoox does I guess, and Devo follows one of the security sprites cause he doesn't fuckin trust it. And he does such a good performance check that he turns into a white cube or something. And they manage to not track it exactly but realized it's the same type as was in the abyssal auction. And they want to get in touch with this guy

So they are like ok the best way to do this is to talk to someone who we Know would know him. And they take a wine bottle to Aloysius supremes house and try to bribe him into telling them? Honestly no idea how that worked out for them. But it did.

And then they take their ship to where he told them to and dock and pretend to be fucking window inspectors or some bullshit of equal holding. And they infiltrate and they are like damn this is fancy and amber and Devo chill in the study but Zoox is like I need to soak :( and then amber like pulls some stunt maybe it's another bathroom break scenario and Devo dresses like a waitstaff to blend in. He goes to the docks and talks to tolliver maybe who he learns runs the place? Which is called crescendo. And amber finds the place the auroch is stored and goes into it and she has to fight some dude cause they're trying to hunt the animals. And she saved the auroch but then it started talking and oh what it has griffins face ok that's weird . And they get it on the ship or some bullshit and then Zoox bombs the place and kills everyone inside and damages the Coriolis a little bit but it's mostly fine. Idfk what their deal is.gonna be real I remember menagerie the least. There was an undersea encounter somewhere there and I think it may have been blinksharks telling Zoox about the four arm woman person who hang in the sky and boil sea? And he's like yeah ok. Also it may have been the ghost ship? Or a mermaid?

Then they get back to founders wake and another ship is like uh permission to board and KODIRA!!! shows up and she's like... Devo I'm im so sorry. The hand of guidance is dead

‼️‼️‼️💥💥💥

So they go to the Parrish and investigate and Kodira's like look this is kind of illegal but I'm gonna let you all do whatever you have to to investigate. And they're like she didn't kill herself someone made her do this and then they go to the schoolhouse and talk to seldom and idk what came of that cause I forgot.

They decide it's probably orlene and he's been weird so they are gonna go after him and they're like hey let's bring Kodira also urchin has a friend now but it's not important. Along the way they come across some minefield or something and aaa blinkshark maybe? The important part is the statue that is at the bottom of the ocean. Amber swims down to it and when she touches it she has a vision where she is like on land and Koda is about to step on her but he is smiling. And then her astral arms are way more powerful and the statue glows green.

Kodira blinks them back and is like wtf happened and amber is like check it pretty swag huh? And Kodira's like. I gotta process

And then after a day they reach this big dome made of bleached coral. And they have to fight the last of the blinksharks which they end up killing. And they go into the dome and fight a coral dragon. But amber hears fighting downstairs from Kodira so she's like!!!! I gotta help! An she sees that there's just been.. a.. slaughter. Kodira is standing in the middle of just a field of slain bleached coral bodies. And a red eye on her forehead is glowing. Koda starts talking to amber about how magic destroyed world's yada yada join him to stop it from destroying the next or shit idfk he sees ambers green arms and is like you have such a power you don't know you possess. And then fights her for it

Kodira has six red astral arms out and amber manages to grapple her into a bear hug from behind and hold them down. And Koda is like wow she... Really.. . Doesn't want me to fight you. And they fight more and she eventually is like fine I'll join you if everyone gets to leave safe. And Kodira's mouth is bleeding and she gets some blood on one of the empty portal attempts and uh it activates.

Upstairs, Zoox and Devo defeat the coral dragon and face orlene. They learn that he wants to go back in time and be with his family. He has a bunch of portals formed from the coral which is what he was using drynarr to do . They talk, fight, etc. Zoox is separated from his body and becomes the coral tower, after a chat w finneas in his mind palace . Orlene dies. Devo looks into the portal of the past, and says the words he knows so well,

"when kingdoms fall the sea provides a home for all beneath the tides... and bring your families"

And then he returns downstairs where koda-kodira and amber have been fighting. And amber is like hey Devo come look at this and she's like, I just wanted you to see it once (I'm not cryi--). And then goes back to fighting Koda and she's like actually if you want magic gone you're gonna have to come get it and dashes for the portal and leaps into it shouting kela sai guppies momma's home! And Kodira jumps in after her and holds herself up with these red arms and grabs onto amber but then amber turns on the vapour suit, snapping at Kodira's arm, and they both fall into the new world and the portal shuts behind them.

Devo and Zoox go home. He wants to see seldom but goes to the schoolhouse to find only beck, saying seldom took his ship and went away. Devo becomes the new head of the Parrish and he turns it into a school. Zoox is made th defender of the city and has a giant mech body. He builds a coral statue of amber. They go out in their freetime to try and find Amber.

But uh funny thing is, Devo has a headache. It started back on their way home. And then he sees a visage of a man in front of him, the one he knows as tolliver. And tolliver is like yeah man u made two different timelines when u did that shit. And Devo is like oh yeah well I'm your brother Damien cern and tollivers like oh yeah well I'm kind of a personification of magic at the moment so.. and then we see timeline b in the world that got devos version of the call. He is at the Parrish still and guidance is alive. He is happy, maybe, and teaches kids about benevolence. But without his help on their first mission, amber and Zoox died.

Back in uh timeline a as we are now calling it. The main ethersea timeline. Devo is going through his stuff and finds a book from orlene with a handwritten note that says "great oraters seldom whisper." And everyone is like OHHH SHIT SELDOMS A SPY

And we go up. Up up up to a city in the sky. And we are inside a cell. Where we see Seldom. And a man approaches him. It's benevolence.

And Devo vows that he is going to kill god.

Meanwhile in the other world amber and Kodira are giant and theres blinksharks in the water and they're like fuck what's up and then Koda is dead as hell and they're basically gods and they goof and fall in love and then sun sets the end

Anyways hope your calc exam went well the results are probably in by now xoxo (for dramatic effect) DBSKFJKSKFJDKD

[barstoolblues]

theres like 7 chiton 5 of them are lined chiton which is awesome because those are what i was looking for and turns out they all looooove the marina dock in town. OH also i saw a giant gumboot chiton and tried to get her but she was clamped down but she was like 10cm easily and bright orange… the nudis are a sea lemon and leopard dorid and then theres a regular ol hermit crab and another smaller one not pictured. and then a green sea urchin

[silentwalrus1]

when my sister was very small, she busted up her nose and lip open really bad on the edge of a floating dock while playing with another little girl. she’d hit her head and was in the water. the dock was maybe twenty yards out, and both my parents and I were standing on the shore watching. I swear my dad was in the middle of the lake holding her before my brain had even processed what happened. not like oh, I didn’t know my dad was such a good swimmer—I didn’t know ANY human being could react that fast. you almost can’t give credit for something that’s so clearly instinct, but he was already there and had her out of the lake before I had moved OR my mom had moved OR any of the lifeguards had moved or really anyone else on the little beach understood what was going on

Oh man!! Yeah i get what you mean, that’s less a conscious decision than an emergency response, but hey it’s still men doin’ good

in return, swimming dad story also - when i was like 6 my family went on our first vacation, and it was to an island, and i had some random 5 dollar inflatable plastic red ball i was playing with that i naturally lost in the waves. and i was not particularly upset by this, i was just kinda like lol welp, but my dad was like no big i’ll swim out and get it, only it was getting carried out on the current, and all i can say is thank fucking god the current went AROUND the island instead of out to sea bc my dad swam for the next hour after that fucking ball. My mom took me and my brother after him walking alongside the shore and we ran out of beach pretty quick, we were fighting thru jungle for most of it and my dad eventually got back up onto shore by climbing up a cliff. The ball got punctured lol and in trying to get to the cliff my dad accidentally stepped on a sea urchin, but by god he got that mfing piece of plastic out of the ocean

[poltergeistsoup]

Oh sick, a Gorillaz pirate AU, can’t wait to play this on the back of my eyelids before I go to sleep (story outline under the read more so you too can play it on the back of your eyelids before you go to sleep)

•Murdoc spends his early years as a grunt doing miserable jobs like scraping barnacles off ships. He tried to stage a mutiny, but no one else was down with it and thus he was thrown overboard. He joins multiple pirate crews over the years and attempts the same thing several more times, failing each time. He’s been on his own for a while now, trying to get himself a proper ship and a crew with no luck.

•Murdoc’s dream is to find a mythic pink island that according to legend is home to a book of Truths, granting the holder visions into the past, present, and future

•While robbing what turned out to be an empty cargo ship guarded by a lone sailor, 2D, while it was docked at a harbor, Murdoc decides this is as good a place to start as any and he knocks out 2D and steals the ship. When 2D comes to, not remembering what it was he was doing, Murdoc lies to him saying he owes a debt and has to work as his cabin boy to pay it off. 2D goes along with it

•Russel is a merchant with his business associate (and life partner), Del, but their ship is attacked by a kraken and Del drowns. His soul possesses Russel and he manifests to protect him when he’s in danger. Now working alone, Murdoc conns Russel into joining his crew.

•Paula Cracker is a rival captain who 2D falls for. Noticing his infatuation with her, she tries to convince him to join her crew. Murdoc, not having it, does what he does best: sleeps with her to break 2D’s heart and keep him in his crew (but this is not the last we see of her, she and Murdoc have an ongoing rivalry and sexual tension)

•Noodle is a street urchin who is discovered as a stowaway on their ship. Murdoc finds her tiny hands and unassuming stature useful for thievery and mentors her into an expert pirate. She grows up to be a stellar thief, her status as a legend outshining Murdoc’s.

•As Noodle grows up and pulls off trickier and trickier heists with success, she tells Murdoc she think she deserves to be made captain in a big-dick-energy move

•Murdoc, lying, tells Noodle if she completes this one last task, he’ll make her captain. He cheats a notoriously dangerous group of pirates called the Black Clouds that Noodle must fight off. In the process, she is knocked overboard into a whirlpool, where she falls to hell. After a year, she crawled her way out, back with a vengeance.

•Now, Noodle wants to gather her own crew and find Murdoc to show him who’s boss

•Her first mate is Ace, a former captain who was overthrown by his old crew on the S.S. Gangreen in a mutiny. After years of being down on his luck, he meets Noodle, who offers him the opportunity to join her in ruling the seas if he helps her extract revenge

•In the meantime, Murdoc, 2D, and Russel assume Noodle to be dead. They come across an automaton at a sideshow that bears a striking resemblance to Noodle, and they steal the automaton to fill the hole left in her absence

•Word has been going around that there have been sightings of this mythic pink island, and Noodle knows the best way to get to Murdoc is to find the island before he does.

•Murdoc and Noodle are not the only ones who’ve caught wind of these sightings, many pirates have heard these whispers including Captain Paula Cracker, as well as a fearsome ghost-ship captain known as the Boogeyman, and it’s a race to find this island—and the Book of Truths— first.

Other details:

•Their ship is called the S.S. Kong

•Murdoc, rather than a parrot, has Cortez the raven on his shoulder and he’s known to shout obscenities and mimic a distinct haw-haw-haw-sounding laugh

•Paula used to have her own animal companion, a fez-wearing monkey, but he was stolen by Murdoc after their ~encounter~

•Murdoc mockingly refers to his rival as Paula-Wanna-Cracker. She in turns calls him Captain Two-Nickels “because that’s all he’s worth”

•2D retains the brain damage from an accident-prone childhood, but is missing one eye after a sword fight with Murdoc

•It’s rumored that Murdoc’s success despite such a small crew is due to his practice of the occult

•Some other locations include The Island Called Monkey, The White Light tavern, Big Rick Black’s Sundry Shack, and Melancholy Hill

•Some minor pirate characters include El Mierda, Big Balls McGuinness, and Vlad the Inhaler

•Perhaps Noodle gets a mermaid girlfriend? idk

[under-sedationnn]

asra x reader (request) - "pineapple juice"

anonymous: Number 37 from the 50 types of kisses with Asra (or Valerius if you write for the Courtiers, do you?) 👀

Word Count: approx. 500

prompt list here

37: Cleaning the other person’s lips with a lick and a kiss.

to answer your question anon, i do not write for the courtiers. i will write for any of the main six tho!! i hope that you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it, especially since the prompt is a little more spicy than i generally write ;)

The sweltering heat of Vesuvian summers are damp and suffocating, and not even a calm, steady breeze helps against the rays of sun that beat down on the massive market crowds. Everyone stood fanning themselves, attempting to cool off any way they could. It was futile, though, due to the proximity from person to person. Heavy breathing mingled our exhales in the static air, and heat waves rose from the beaten dirt path and worn cobblestone.

I had left the shop only to pick up a few small things, Asra keeping an eye on the store. On my way back, as I excused myself through the dense crowd of travelers and townspeople, a small fruit stand came into view. Only, it was not full of apples, oranges, bananas, or any other fruit this stand usually sold.

Making my way toward the stand, I asked the owner, "What kind of fruit is this?" It really didn't even look like a fruit; it resembled a sea urchin much more than any plump, soft crops he had ever presented to the market before. My confusion must have shown by my expression, because the merchant only chuckled.

"Ah, these came on the trade ships just this morning! Many of them were shipped to the palace right away, but I was able to smuggle some."

"Right, so, what are they?"

"Oh, yes," he began, clearly having lost his train of thought, "they're called pineapples. They're tropical."

I picked one up and carefully examined it, gently poking the seemingly sharp spines on the side of the fruit. "Hm, alright," I moved it up and down in my palm, mentally weighing the large fruit, "how much do you want for one?"

"Five bit."

"Five? It's one fruit!"

"Yes, but it is a large fruit, and I stole it to sell. Consider it paying for the labor, as well. Five bit, nothing less."

Shifting the small coins between my fingers, I looked between the merchant and the fruit in my hand. He smiled smugly as I handed him the money.

"Pleasure doing business with you."

Let's just hope Asra knows how to cut this.

-----

"Asra, I'm back!" I called as I opened the door to the shop. I found Asra sitting on one of the small cushions we had littered along the floor, drinking a piping cup of tea.

"Seriously, tea in this weather?" I accused.

"It's worth the hot flash that follows," he joked, taking some of the items from my arms and restocking the shelves. "What are you holding?"

"This, apparently, is called a pineapple."

Turning to look at it, his eyes immediately lit up at the sight of the fruit. He grabbed it from my hands and began gazing at it with both curiosity and awe. "Where did you get this?"

"The market! From the merchant who sells all the fruit. He said he stole it from one of the merchant ships this morning, so it's a little battered and bruised."

"No, it's just ripe! Wow, Y/n, I haven't had one of these since I was a kid. Muriel and I used to snag them from merchant ships all the time at the docks."

"So I'm assuming that means you know how to cut it?"

Laughing, he responded, "Yes, I know how to cut it. It's not as hard as it looks, promise. Would you like to help?"

"No, thank you," I said, grabbing his abandoned tea from the floor, "but I will definitely let you cut it up and eat some when you're done."

Motioning for me to follow him up the stairs, he said, "Gotcha, go ahead and get some water and sit down."

After trudging my way up the stone steps, I all but collapsed into one of our small dining chairs, pouring myself a cup of slightly warm water and downing it in one go.

"So I'm guessing it's pretty hot at the market," he joked, and I watched his back as he cut up the fruit at the kitchen counter.

"Surprisingly so!" I responded.

"Well, this should serve as a refreshment for you."

Turning to face me, he presented a large bowl of bright yellow fruit. A puddle of juice sat in the bottom of the bowl, and the chunks of pineapple glistened in the bright sunlight filtering in through the windows. It looked delicious.

Before sitting down to join me, he grabbed he smallest chunk he cud find and set it on the table, Faust slithering up the leg to gobble it down quickly.

"Sweet!"

"Well, if Faust approves, then I guess it can't be too bad."

Asra and I both grabbed at the sweetest looking pieces we could find, and I immediately found pleasure in the bursting sweetness and tang of the fruit. Although warm from the weather, the fruit was rejuvenating. I smiled as I chewed, and Asra began to laugh at my expression.

"I told you it was good, didn't I?"

"You did, you did," I said as I grabbed another piece, "you just sometimes have... interesting tastes in food."

"Okay, listen, spicy honey was a good idea!"

"Only in theory," I teased, and he smirked at me, rolling his eyes and leaning forward slowly, "I couldn't get the taste out of my mouth to save my life. It stuck to all of my teeth."

"Well, I make up for it with other skills." He leaned forward still, holding a small chunk of pineapple between his fingers.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Well... I can cut up a pineapple and you can't."

I laughed. "Right, what else?"

He made a face as though he were thinking, and I ate another piece of the fruit. The juice dribbled down my chin and onto my neck, leaving a trail from my mouth. His eyes hazed over slightly, an area of mischief radiating from his person.

"Well," he began, slowly inching forward to lean over the table, "I'm excellent at cleaning up."

I could feel his breath on my skin now, and my breath hitched as he brought his lips to my color bone. He put his hands on top of my own so that they wouldn't leave the table, our sticky, sugary fingers sticking to each other. He slowly placed sloppy kisses all the way to my mouth, licking away any trace of the juice I had left behind. He ended the action with a small kiss to my lips, and I leaned forward as he sat back down in his seat.

Blushing and overheated, he only smirked at me as he ate another piece of the fruit.

I cleared my throat, attempting to return to the previous conversation and rid my head of the thoughts that were now coming to mind.

"I can certainly attest to that. Maybe you could teach me sometime."

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

May You Always Be Satisfied

SuperCorp AU based on the song ‘Satisfied’

The tinkling of silverware against glass delicately ringing through the room pierces dully through the crystalline numbness surrounding Lena, and she looks up only when she hears her name amidst happy applause.

 "...... the maid-of-honor, Lena Luthor."

The delicate bell of apathy Lena has been existing in since the ceremony shatters, and she is saved only by the impeccable manners that have been drilled into her since early childhood. The perfect smile on her face is as permanent and forced as one painted on a wooden doll.

That is exactly how she feels as she stands, wooden and lifeless, her elaborate dress and corset feeling heavy and constricting around her chest and middle, cutting off her breath. But her glass is already raised, her voice somehow steady despite the roiling in her insides. 

"A toast to the groom!" She tips the glass toward her brother, handsome in his suit. Lex smiles at her, affectionate as ever.

Lena returns the smile, lingering in hesitation - and it's telling of how far gone she is, because Lena Luthor never hesitates, always wrestles her fears into submission - before letting her eyes slide to the woman beside him. She carefully curates the smile on her face, fearing it will betray her at this moment.

"To the bride."

The crowd echoes her words, all turning with fondness at the blushing woman in ivory white sitting beside Lex Luthor. Golden hair crowned with flowers and a sweet blush adorning her face, she is exquisite, and Lena's heart squeezes painfully in her chest.

Linda Lee Luthor, nee Danvers. That is how people call her now. Even Lex calls her by that name - it makes sense to call her Linda, he says -- she is still in hiding, and Linda was the name given to her by her adopted family since they arrived in Metropolis. It's a name fitting for a Luthor.

 Only Lena still calls her Kara.

 She had insisted on it, her warm hands clasping Lena's moments after she and Lex had announced their engagement to the room filled with their loved ones - family friends, Lex's associates, and Kara's kin.

Lena is now the only one, outside of a select group comprised of Kryptonian immigrants and Kara's family and friends, who calls her by the name she was born with.

"From your sister, who is always by your side." Lena smiles her way through the envy clogging her throat. It is the great tragedy of her life that she means every word out of her mouth - oh, how she means every felicitous wish of happiness that she expresses for her brother and his new wife, she means it with all the love in her heart she bears for both of them - and yet each one rasps out of her throat like a bittersweet barb as her gaze lands on that smiling face and those lovely eyes sparkling with joy.

"To your union!" Lena lets her fond gaze travel from the couple to the people surrounding them, citizens of Metropolis and Krypton all sharing the same table, thanks to these two most important people in her life. "And the hope that you provide."

Hope. That is what Kara is, and always will be for Lena. And that is what she is for her people.

"May you always be satisfied."

_____________

In 1763, Krypton was ravaged by Civil War.

Young Kara was always inquisitive, even at the age of thirteen -- “nosy”, her Aunt Astra had called it fondly -- and she’d heard whispers, between her parents, and Aunt Astra and Uncle Non. 

Rumors of the House of Daxam. Of the formidable Lady Rhea. Of plots against the House of El. 

It seemed preposterous at the time. She’d grown up under the near-holy light of the House of El. Her family had ruled Krypton for over a hundred years, and, it seemed, would rule a hundred more. Under its banner, Krypton had flourished. Her father’s brother, Jor-El II had been Bethgar even before Kara was born, and would continue to rule until her older cousin Kal succeeded him. On and on, the House of El would stand mighty, carrying Krypton on its unwavering back.

But she’d been too young, or perhaps too naive, to understand.

That night -- the night that changed Kara Zor-El’s life and destroyed everything she knew -- she was roused from her sleep by her mother, whose urgent face was drawn and pale. 

She’d never seen the aristocratic Alura Zor-El look so ... terrified, and it frightened Kara. At her mother’s frantic insistence, the confused girl put on her warmest clothes and was just about to put on her favorite cloak with the El crest emblazoned on the back, but her mother yanked it off urgently.

“No! Not that one. Put this on,” Alura threw the mantle aside and grabbed another cloak, one of Kara’s older ones -- simpler and more worn, she’d always lamented that Kara looked like a street urchin rather than a princess in it. 

Now she wrapped it securely around Kara’s shoulders and pulled the cowl up so that it obscured Kara’s golden hair and part of her face. “Now, follow me. Quickly!”

Her mother herded her down the vast marble steps, Kara struggling to keep up with her. There were raised voices all over the place, and was that smoke rising from the West Tower? As they rushed by a window, Kara could see the angry orange glow of a raging fire emanating from the tower that housed Kara’s beloved Science Guild. She wanted to run to the window and see, but Alura steered her firmly away.

She and her mother were met at the foot of the stairs by her father and Kal. Her older cousin was also wearing a cloak like Kara’s, his face similarly obscured, and it only added to Kara’s confusion. “Ieiu, Ukr. What’s going on?!”

Her mother hurriedly clapped a hand over Kara’s mouth, but it was too late. Her high, panicked voice carried through the empty hall and alerted others to their presence. She heard yells -- that was her Uncle Non’s voice! -- booming from beyond the Great Hall. 

“There! They’re over there! Get them!”

Her father’s face hardened as he drew his sword and turned toward the mob pursuing them, his own kinsman among them. Their faces twisted and contorted like the monsters from the bedtime stories Kara had heard as a child, except these faces were terrifying real, glowing red from the light of their torches, and they were coming for Kara and her family.

At the head of the army was a tall, regal woman with eyes that reminded her of the stones at the riverbank she used to play in -- cold, black and smooth. She wore an armor stained dark with blood -- Uncle Jor-El’s blood, she would later learn.

At the sight of Kara and Kal, the smooth coldness of the woman’s dark gaze morphed into something mad and feral, and her lips twisted into a cruel smile. A blade glinted dangerously in her hand.

“Alura! Take the children and go!” Zor-El planted himself between the woman and his family. “I’ll hold them off! GO!”

Kara stood frozen in terror as her father raised his sword and the woman loomed over him with her eyes as black as stones and as mad as the inferno that engulfed the West Tower. She couldn’t have moved if her mother hadn’t yanked at her elbow, pulling her along as Alura and Kal fled down a back corridor. 

Kara’s feet could barely keep up with them, and she struggled, screaming for her father, begging to go back and help him.

She struggled so much that Kal had to scoop her up in his arms -- it occurred to her vaguely in the back of her mind that he hadn’t carried her like a babe since she was a child, she was too big to be carried now -- but they ran faster, faster down narrow passageways, with the din of a pursuing mob behind them -- and all Kara could think of was her father struck down by that woman.

They reached the end of a corridor and Kal kicked the door open. He set Kara down long enough to barricade the door against their pursuers with Alura’s help. It was only then that Kara realized they were at the stables.

“We have to go back! Ieiu, Kal, we have to go back!”

“Kara,” Alura abandoned her task to take Kara by the shoulders. “Listen to me. I will go back to your father, but you -- you and Kal must go. Quickly, Kal. Take Steyg, he’s the fastest and he can carry you both…. Listen to me, Kara. You must be brave now. You must be strong. Your journey will be long and hard, but your father and I will be with you always.”

Alura reached around her neck and hurriedly unclasped the necklace Kara knew she always wore there -- the one with the crest of the House of El that Zor-El had given her on their Bonding Ceremony years ago. 

Alura pressed her necklace into Kara’s palm and curled her small fingers around it. Even through her panic and confusion, Kara could see the tears in her mother’s eyes. She pulled Kara close, and Kara clung to her tightly, out of fear and a panicked certainty that she would never be able to hold her mother again.

“I am so proud of you, my Kara.” Alura whispered in her ear, her voice thick with tears. “I know you will do extraordinary things.”

Too soon -- much too soon -- they heard the clamor of their pursuers beyond the barricaded door, and Alura hoisted Kara up onto the horse in front of Kal. 

“Take care of her, Kal. Go to the docks, there’s a ship waiting there that can take you to Metropolis. Look for Jeremiah Danvers. He was your father’s friend many years ago, and he will help you.” Alura’s fingers dug into Kal’s arm for one second more before she let go and pushed Steyg into motion. “Be safe. Don’t let them find you!”

Steyg was already galloping away when they heard the mob break through the barricade. Kara cried out and struggled to turn back, but Kal wouldn’t let her. He was immovable, no matter how much she pushed and pushed against him. 

“We can’t go back, Kara. We can’t!”

They reached the docks after a few hours’ ride, Kal pushing Steyg to his limit while a sobbing Kara helplessly clung to him. The horse was given as payment to the Captain who let them hide in the ship with the other survivors just before it slipped its moorings. 

They stayed hidden below deck, shivering out of fear and cold. The others --  supporters of the House of El, old enemies of the House of Daxam, slaves owned by the House of Daxam making a bid for freedom -- crowded around them, like moths drawn to a flame. They all huddled close to each other, hidden in the underbelly of the ship, staring at Kal and Kara, murmuring “Kir Bethgar… Kir Bythgar… Zhaonah… Zrhythrev Ehl… Voikirahm...”

Kara didn’t hear any of it. She spent most of the trip in a numb, shocked haze, clinging to Kal for most of the journey. The only thing that jolted her out of her catatonic haze was whenever Kal moved away, to retrieve food for them or to assist another refugee. 

If Kara wasn’t holding onto a piece of Kal at any given moment, she would be besieged by a mindless terror that caused her to gasp for breath, fat tears leaking out of her eyes before she could stop them. 

The only thing that could calm her was Kal holding her again, rocking her as the ship creaked around them, the sound of the waves lapping at the ship creating a dull rushing in her ears, allowing her to slowly calm down.

Finally, after weeks at sea, they docked at Metropolis in the dead of the night. Met in secret by Jor-El’s old friend, Jeremiah Danvers and his wife Eliza, who received them into their house warmly. 

Only to tell them that Kal could not stay.

Kara was appalled and near-wild with fear. Jeremiah was talking on and on about the danger of the two of them being seen together, about how Jeremiah’s friendship with Jor-El had been well-known and it would only be too easy to deduce Kal’s lineage if he was suddenly adopted by the Danvers, Kara could stay, she shared Eliza’s coloring and looked enough like her that she could pass for a family relation, but Kal must go, perhaps to his friends, the Kents, who lived west of Metropolis --

But all Kara could hear was that Kal -- her only family left -- would be taken from her.

“no…. no… No… No! ….. NO! NO!!!” Kara could only mutter over and over, shaking her head back and forth, each interjection a terrified moan that escalated into high-pitched shrieks that both Jeremiah and Kal hurriedly tried to silence for fear of discovery.

Her screaming woke the Danvers’ daughter Alexandra, who found them all trying to subdue Kara, who was now crying and screeching inconsolably while clinging to Kal. Eliza was trying to wrap a blanket around her, but Kara refused to let go of her cousin. 

“Alexandra, make a cup of tea. And fetch the laudanum from the cupboard.” Alexandra, confused and a little frightened of this howling creature, complied with her mother’s orders for the first time without protest.

In the end, there was no help for it, and they all knew it. 

Kara would not be safe with Kal. They would be too easily discovered together -- two displaced young people with the telltale brilliant blue El eyes arriving in Metropolis at the same time the Prince and Princess of Krypton went missing? It would be frighteningly easy for Rhea -- who had now established herself Bythgar of Krypton -- to discover them.

So Kal stayed with the Kents, distant friends of Jeremiah’s, who lived out west in Smallville. And Kara stayed with the Danvers in Metropolis. Plagued nightly by nightmares of her family burning or dying at the hands of Rhea with her stone-black eyes.

Every night, Eliza Danvers slept in a chair beside her bed. Whenever Kara woke up screaming and shaking, Eliza was there, with her gentle calming voice, to smooth her hair back and hold her until she felt safe enough to sleep again. She wasn’t her mother -- could never be her mother -- but Eliza was a desperately-needed source of comfort for the terrified young girl.

The Danvers’ daughter, Alexandra was more than a little chilly toward her at first. Especially after her first impression of Kara, and especially after Kara called her Alexandra, a name she loathed with a burning passion. Alex treated her more like a nuisance than a sister during the first few months of her stay with the family.

Until one night, when Jeremiah and Eliza were invited to dinner at the Luthor Manor. 

One did not simply turn down an invitation from the Luthors, and not even a renowned doctor like Jeremiah could refuse. Eliza was unable to sit with Kara that night, and the young girl, terrified of the nightmares, huddled in her bed, forcing herself to stay awake. 

Sometime in the night, Alex found her there, crying silently, curled into a painful little ball. 

Alex took one look at Kara, and with a deep, resigned sigh, she pulled the covers back and slipped into the bed beside the young girl, holding her gingerly. 

It was awkward, since Alex did not customarily like giving or receiving hugs, but she made an effort to pat Kara stiffly on the back. 

Instead of soothing her, the clumsy attempt at comfort made Kara snort a laugh, and Alex glared at her. But as her next attempts at comfort got no less awkward, Alex was forced to acknowledge to herself how inept she was at this, and she reluctantly joined in on Kara’s laughter.

Both Eliza and Jeremiah were astonished to see both girls sleeping soundly on the same bed when they got home late that night. 

And they were even more astonished to see Alex pushing her bed into Kara’s room the next day. When asked what she was doing, Alex replied sniffily “Well, clearly she’s useless on her own. Someone has got to make sure she behaves like an actual human being!”

From then on, they were inseparable.

It was Alex who still called her Kara, even when the Danvers said that she must change her name to Linda to avoid detection. 

It was Alex who stayed up with Kara on each passing birthday, waiting for Kal -- whose name was now Clark Kent -- to visit. He never did, though a letter would often arrive. Except Kara hated those more, because they had to be impersonal to avoid giving away information, and as such each missive contained as much emotion and affection as a handshake. 

And it was Alex who would usually end the day making increasingly diabolical plans to get petty revenge on him to make Kara laugh.

It was Kara who took Alex’s side in every argument she had with Eliza. It was Kara who made funny faces behind her silk fan to entertain Alex whenever Eliza forced them to accompany her to a luncheon. 

And it was Kara who held Alex’s hand tight as they stood silently at Jeremiah Danvers’ grave. It was Kara who sat quietly beside Alex after the funeral, and said nothing when Alex began sobbing -- faintly, in halting, reserved hiccups at first, then bigger and bigger until she was rasping her grief out into Kara’s collar while Kara stroked her hair.

Still, despite their mourning, there were still some things to be thankful for. They were far better off than the other Kryptonian stowaways with whom Kara had shared close quarters in the ship years ago.

The Kryptonian refugees had gathered among themselves, banding together like a school of fish in hostile waters -- which they were. 

Metropolis was not kind to them. Metropolitans were trade people, and while some had welcomed the new business, most were resentful of these newcomers whom they whispered had come to take their land, their resources and livelihood.

And so, the Kryptonians had kept mostly to themselves all these years, making a home for themselves in the fringes of this new land they had found themselves in. Within a few years, a growing settlement had formed, a hopeful patch of land they had called New Argo, after the city that once had been their home.

Here, in New Argo, the Kryptonians felt safe -- away from the reach of Rhea and the House of Daxam. And if they were not accepted, they were at least somewhat tolerated by the Metropolitans. 

Most Metropolitans would not cross into New Argo, and very few Kryptonians ventured too far into Metropolis. The few exceptions were Kara -- who lived in Metropolis with the Danvers family -- and the Olsens, who along with the Nals, owned an apothecary shop on Bakerline. 

_________

It is in this manner that Kara is brought up, with one foot in one world and one foot in the other. Never quite able to let go of the past and uncertain of the future, never able to share the entirety of herself to another.

Now that they’re older, Kal -- or Clark, as he seemed more to be now, since Kara saw little of the Kal she had known before in him now -- visits New Argo and Metropolis more often. 

He tries -- for Kara -- she knows he does. 

He makes attempts to cross the gulf that has opened between them, but it’s hard. There is too much secrecy, the need for it permeating every aspect of their lives so that neither of them really knows what to say to the other any more.

He does tell her things about himself -- how he has been invited to write for the new publication that Perry White, a visionary publisher, and an illustrious and irrepressible widow named Cat Grant had been trying to get off the ground. The paper is to be called The Daily Planet, and Clark is tremendously excited at how much good he could do in such a position. 

He speaks of how he had been invited to dine with the famed Luthor family, and had met the enigmatic Lex Luthor, who helms the Luthor Trading Company, and his beautiful sister. How he had the most fascinating conversation with a woman named Lois about the Metropolitans’ stance on New Argo at dinner with the Lanes’, and how they had spoken about what actions could be taken to build a bridge between the Metropolitans and the Kryptonians.

Kara tries to appreciate Kal’s efforts, but she cannot help but feel disconnected from him. Where is the boy who had taught her the prayers of Rao’s faithful? Who stood, tall, youthful and earnest in The Great Hall beside his father and told Kara stories of the Bethgars of old, and took pride in their family's legacy?

He asks about Kara’s life, but truthfully, there is not much to tell, and she can’t help but feel that this is at least partly his fault. The Danvers have sheltered her all these years for her own protection, but there is much she knows she has been kept from. 

It's been thirteen years since that night.

Thirteen years of change and secrecy, of hiding, of holding herself back in so many ways. 

Nights like this, however, give her the chance to drop her guard.

Tucked in cellar of Megan Mores’ home on the boundary between New Argo and Metropolis, she laughs as she watches the revelry around her. Even with twenty or so people crammed in the basement lit only by candles, her people still know how to have a good time.

She claps in time to the lively beat reverberating through the small space, nearly shaking the walls each time James plays the belahdiehd. 

Winn, one of her oldest friends and one of the few Metropolitans present, is well on his way to drunk from the Aldebaran rum Megan has been pouring all night. Someone really should have told Winn that stuff is deadly to anyone who doesn’t have a Kryptonian’s constitution for liquor.

Most of the revelers are Kryptonian and all of them are familiar to her. She waves to each of them and stops to converse with each one, cheerfully inquiring about their livelihoods and their little ones. They all respond warmly, chatting and laughing heartily with her. 

In the safety of this secret cloistered place, they all still call her Kara and the ones who are old enough to remember Krypton before they fled still call her Kir Bythgar, and she doesn’t have the heart to remind them that she is a princess no longer. She’s not Kara Zor-El anymore, she’s just Linda Lee Danvers.

She doesn’t begrudge them their nostalgia. She’s lived in Metropolis for thirteen years now, she’s lived here just as many years as she lived in Krypton. Outside of this basement, she looks and acts a Metropolitan as much as Alex does -- but she knows, in her heart, that a part of her is still that thirteen-year-old Kryptonian princess who never grew up.

She never speaks it out loud -- and she only ever lets herself think this thought at Gatherings like this, when she doesn't have to be Linda Lee Danvers -- but sometimes Kara feels as if she is the only El left.

Kal-El is now Clark Kent. He never speaks of Krypton. Instead, he speaks of Metropolis as if it is his home. He never speaks of their old friends in Krypton. He no longer speaks of their family, as if they had all vanished into the ether that terrible night.

Instead, every word out of Clark's mouth nowadays is usually attached to one of two names -- that of Lois Lane or Lex Luthor.

One is his beloved, and the other he calls his dearest friend. Kara sometimes wants to tease him that she can't tell which is which the way he talks about them both, but she and Clark are no longer familiar in that way.

She's never met Lex Luthor, but Kara has met Lois -- or rather, Linda has met Lois. She likes the older woman well enough: Lois is intelligent, bold and unafraid of speaking her mind. She keeps Clark on his toes, and she can see how happy Clark is with her.

Kara sometimes wishes she could be like her, that she can be as free with her words and her mind as Lois seems to be.

She spots Alex across the room. She’s talking to Kelly and another woman Kara doesn’t recognize. She can’t quite see her face, but from the looks of her, particularly the elegance of her clothes, she’s Metropolitan.

Alex beckons her over, and as Kara approaches, the other woman turns around, and the first thing that Kara immediately notices is the brilliant clarity of the woman’s jade-green eyes as she surveys the celebrations. There’s an agile curiosity in the way she watches the revelry around her, the people dancing to the belahd.

“This is my sister, Linda Lee.”

Those curious eyes flit to Kara’s and the lady holds out her hand. Kara takes it, expecting it to be soft and delicate, but instead, the other woman’s hands are surprisingly calloused and her grip is firm. She smiles archly as Kara stares at her. “Lena Luthor.”

So this is Lena Luthor. Only daughter of the most powerful family in Metropolis, and the sister of Clark’s best friend.

Kara vaguely remembers that Clark had described her as ‘beautiful’, but now she realizes her cousin has not done her justice. Lena Luthor is lissome and regal, her every move elegant even in the confines of this tiny, cloistered basement.

When Kelly manages to pull Alex over to the small makeshift dance floor, Kara and Lena are left on their own. Kara shifts nervously at first, unsure of what to say. Her sheltered upbringing has somewhat limited her capacity for small talk, and it’s especially difficult to come up with interesting and engaging conversation when faced with someone as beautiful and important as Lena Luthor.

But Lena surprises her. 

She’s a stranger to these Gatherings. Most Metropolitans are, since very few come to them. Lena is brimming with curiosity and asks about every dance and every song James plays on the belahdiehd. 

Kara tries to be careful about her answers. After all, she is supposed to be a Metropolitan too.

But Lena turns out to be dangerously easy to talk to. She’s effortlessly charming and she seems genuinely interested in listening to whatever Kara has to say.

At one point, their conversation turns to the latest advances in science, and Lena lights up even more. “.... I’ve heard of a self-taught inoculator from Scotland who claims to have developed a cure for smallpox, and while I’m skeptical about his technique, I think his ideas might have some merit.”

And Kara, who was once the youngest member of the Kryptonian Science Guild, is enthralled. She chimes in unreservedly, and the two of them spend most of the night by the fire, talking and talking. Kara doesn’t think she’s talked to someone this much or this freely in a long time, except perhaps Alex.

She tips her head, surveying Lena during a lull in their conversation. She’s never been good at filtering her thoughts before they leave her mouth, and Lena’s company is easy and comfortable. “You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied.”

Lena stills. For the first time in their conversation, she draws herself up to her full height, and Kara is reminded of her station. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. You forget yourself, Miss Danvers.”

And Kara looks away, down at her hands, sure she’s overstepped. “I just -- I only meant.... You’re like me.” she fiddles with her hands on her lap. “I’ve never been satisfied.”

It’s Lena’s turn to study her. One perfect eyebrow arches. “Is that right?”

Kara nods, risking a glance at her companion. Lena is watching her with a strange look on her face, thoughtful and measuring at the same time. She’s spared the agony of thinking of a reply when Megan announces that the Metropolitan Police have started their patrol.

While there is nothing illegal about the Gatherings, people tend to frown at any event that brings Metropolitans and Kryptonians together, and they don’t need to bring down the wrath of any Metropolitan authorities on New Argo. The crowd disperses quickly, but quietly.

Kara walks Lena back to her carriage, while Alex waits impatiently for her in theirs. Lena gives her a contemplative smile as she stops at the small door. “Thank you for a very interesting evening. Goodbye, Linda.”

The name jolts Kara, and she flounders. It sounds wrong coming from Lena. Just before Lena climbs into the carriage, Kara takes her wrist. And despite the all of the warnings that have been drilled into her by Alex, Jeremiah, Eliza and Kal, she finds herself speaking in a quiet voice meant only for the other woman.

“Kara. My name is Kara Zor-El.”

___________

Kara Zor-El.

The name has been swirling in Lena’s head since she heard it that night at the Gathering. The name had confirmed Lena's suspicion that "Linda" was Kryptonian.

It changes nothing for her.

She had found Linda -- Kara -- to be a very intriguing woman. Pretty, mild-mannered and unassuming at first glance, but so very quick and clever behind those lovely azure eyes -- with a straightforward frankness that had both surprised and ensnared Lena.

It doesn’t matter to her that Kara is Kryptonian, but she does want to know more.

Kara Zor-El.

The name is somehow familiar. She has heard the name before.

She asks around as discreetly as she can, and her inquiries lead her to the deposed House of El and its missing scions, believed to be dead.

Clearly not, if Kara -- Linda -- is to be believed.

The next time they meet is at a garden party. As the widow of an important doctor, Eliza is invited. Alex and Kara tag along as her dutiful daughters, Alex squirming in her dress the whole way.

Lena gravitates toward Kara, and she can see the trepidation in her eyes. Kara’s hands open and close nervously at her sides as she awaits Lena’s reaction.

Lena leads them away from prying eyes down a small path, and as their surroundings get less crowded, Kara seems to become less agitated. She calms more the farther they get from the party.

By the time they reach the lovely little fountain at the end of the path, Kara has visibly relaxed, though she still looks at Lena tentatively.

“Why did you tell me your secret?”

Kara ducks her head, watches the water burbling in the fountain for a long moment. “I don’t know.... I’ve only told one other person, and that was Winn, and he’s been my friend since I first came here. He’s practically a brother to me. Only my family and the other Kryptonians from New Argo know.”

“So why tell me?” Lena asks softly.

Kara meets her eyes slowly, and Lena can see the plain honesty in the, “It’s very easy to trust you.”

A sense of lightness sweeps over Lena’s chest, and she smiles. “It’s very easy to trust you too.”

A slow smile blooms over Kara’s face, and Lena delights in it for a long moment. Then she reaches out and, very gently, touches Kara’s hand.

“Tell me about Krypton.”

___________

That is where it begins for Lena. The slow, intoxicating downward spiral of emotions that Kara induced in her.

It only grows from that one conversation, in which she had listened, enraptured, to Kara’s stories of Krypton. And with each new encounter -- over tea, at parties she makes sure Kara is invited to -- Lena becomes more and more enamored, until she catches her heart racing when she sees Kara’s smile. 

And she knows.

When Kara places her hand lightly on top of hers, and Lena’s heart skips a beat. When Lena says something that makes Kara throw her head back and laugh, and her heart soars along with the sound of Kara’s laughter -- she knows that what she feels has grown into something more.

She also knows there is simply nothing to be done about it.

Lillian has been pushing her to choose between two suitors, Jack Spheer and Morgan Edge. But Edge is simply abhorrent in every way, and while she adores Jack with all her heart, the thought of Jacky as a husband makes her balk just as much, because he has been a friend and almost a brother since childhood.

So it really is quite impossible for anything to come out of Lena's feelings, and so she keeps them to herself.

Then there is also the matter of Kara’s true identity. She has been in hiding for a long time, but the only thing protecting her right now is her anonymity. What happens if that is somehow taken away from her? She would be in danger, not just from Rhea, but also the other Metropolitans who are already hostile toward the Kryptonians. 

The anti-Kryptonian sentiment has been rising with alarming swiftness throughout Metropolis recently. Enough that Lena knows Kara’s cousin has been investigating possible links between Rhea's regime in Krypton. It’s already necessitated several dangerous trips there for Clark, Kara has told her, and Lena is worried for her friend. 

But, if Kara were under the protection of the Luthors....

No one would dare to come after Kara if she had the might of the Luthor family behind her.

As she watches Kara try to sip her tea as delicately as possible, Lena makes her decision. She reaches across the table and takes Kara’s hand. “Come with me.”

She rises, tugging Kara lightly with her. Kara sets the teacup down carefully, as if trying to avoid breaking the delicate thing. She tips her head curiously at Lena, but allows her to pull her along. “Where are we going?”

“I’m about to change your life.”

She leads Kara to the door of Lex’s study and knocks.

__________

Lex Luthor is a strange man, Kara thinks.

There’s something about him, something enigmatic that immediately draws the eye. Perhaps its the way he moves with confident ease through any room, commanding attention. He’s larger than life, and he has a charismatic way about him that makes it easy to gravitate toward him.

Kara doesn’t quite feel the same ease with him that she does with Lena, and in fact, she feels a certain discomfiture around him when he first asks to court her. She’s never had anyone court her, and to have her first suitor be the great Lex Luthor is enough to make Kara want to curl in on herself and hide.

It takes her and every one around her aback, because Lex is older and such a prominent figure, and Kara is, well, Kara. Or rather, Linda. But Lex gallantly applies himself to the task, and with Lena gently encouraging her, Kara slowly warms to him and she begins to spend more time with him. 

Lex treats her with the same affection he gives Lena, and Kara has to admit, it feels nice to be the center of someone’s attention. She warms to him the way she warms to everyone else. She doesn't feel any of the affection for him that she saw between Jeremiah and Eliza, but she likes him well enough because Lena seems to love him so much. And she supposes that love can come later when they are married.

And Kara does find him intriguing. These Luthors entrance her, with their piercing intelligence and easy charisma. Lex reminds her of Lena, a bit. The way their brilliance simmers just underneath the skin -- Lena's brilliance is more tranquil; it radiates from her, like the sheen of a pearl; but with Lex it seems to coil and tense under a thin veneer.

She craves to know more about them. Kara calls on Luthor Manor more and more often. Often, it's Lex she sees there, since he is her intended. And she enjoys reading the books he gives her, and playing chess with him.

He tells her stories, of the history of the world as they play, things she never knew from her sheltered upbringing with the Danvers. Her family never neglected her education, nor did they keep her ignorant, but there is so much Kara has been kept from, and Lex, like Lena, seems to know so much.

On one occasion, he tells her of Philip of Macedon, and his son Alexander the Great, for whom Lex himself was named, and how he conquered the world. And Kara smiles as she moves her next piece.

"This appeals to you, the idea of conquering the world." This is as close as Kara's come to teasing him, and she lets it show in her voice. It's almost domestic, this routine they've fallen into while playing chess.

Lex huffs a short laugh. "You sound like my sister."

Kara can't help it, the way she looks up at any mention of Lena's name, the warmth it introduces to her chest, spilling down to her stomach slowly, like honey. Her smile is soft, and Lex notices.

"You remind me of her sometimes. The two of you share many things." 

"Well," Kara keeps her voice light. "We are friends."

"More than that, you two are kindred spirits. You both aspire to be good." There's a note in Lex's voice that sounds almost condescending at the word. "You both believe in the good in people. You both belong in the light."

Then he smiles, teeth flashing. “Checkmate.”

“Not again!” Kara groans, and Lex laughs, teasing. She ducks her head and joins him in light laughter. It feels comfortable, and Lex promises to teach her how to play better with an affectionate smile. She can see why Lena loves him.

The more time Kara spends with Lex, the more she likes him.  And the more time she spends with Lena, the happier she is. This is nice, she thinks. Playing chess with Lex, then having tea with Lena in her lovely sitting room later, just the two of them.

Whenever Kara gets back home, she's always smiling brightly, and Eliza teases her, says it's the happiness of a young girl in love. Alex is a little bit more skeptical, but she sees Kara’s light mood, and she refrains from saying anything.

When she joins Lena for tea later that week, Kara gives her permission to tell Lex her secret.

_____________

Lena watches the growing closeness between her brother and her friend from the sidelines.

She can see how much good this union will do. It's necessary, it's best for Kara, to protect her. And on top of that, she can see the hope it gives Kara’s people. 

Already, she can see the changes.

Kara's true identity is still secret, of course, but as she becomes more and more visible with the Luthors, among the Kryptonians of Argo -- who know who Kara truly is, and look to her and her cousin as their leaders -- there is already a burgeoning sense of cautious hope, a possibility of more than just existing alongside the people of Metropolis, but of a union, of acceptance.

And this, to Lena, is further proof that she made the right choice. That this is the best way.

Lena can see the way Lex makes Kara smile, and he is as affectionate toward her as he is with Lena herself. And Kara, sweet Kara, who envelops everyone with her warmth and earnestness -- how could anyone not love her?

And Kara is always so excited to tell Lena everything she and Lex talk of. More than anything, Lena cherishes the moments she and Kara share just before Kara leaves. After her visit with Lex, Lena gets to steal Kara for herself, a little bit of precious time for the two of them to talk. ‘Ladies' gossip’, Lex calls it.

But these moments are never filled with idle chatter for Lena. 

She's enraptured by everything Kara has to say, about Krypton, about the new things she's learned from Lex -- Lena has heard them all, of course, but seeing everything through Kara's eyes provides her with a uniquely refreshing perspective that thrills her. 

And Kara seems equally interested in everything Lena has to say, God knows why -- but she'll listen raptly as Lena babbles on about her study in finding vaccinations for smallpox, which everyone else regards as preposterous and unladylike, but Kara nods along excitedly and provides her own ideas and opinions

This is more than Lena can hope for. This way, she gets to keep Kara in her life.

Kara was wrong. Lena can learn to be satisfied. She can.

When Clark returns from Krypton, Lex suggests to Lena that they all dine together. 

"They are to be part of the family, after all." There's something about the way he says it, a note just slightly off-tune, his smile a tad too much like the one Lex wears when he plays chess against her and is near victory.

But then he puts his arm around her, warm affection all but seeping through his voice against Lena's temple.

"And I owe it all to you, sister. This is all because of you, Lena. Remember that."

Lena takes this for ardor, and she embraces him warmly, accepting his affection and gratitude as if it doesn't pain her, as if she is happy for him. 

And she is.

__________

This is the domestic scene Clark comes home to, Kara all but ensconced in the Luthor home. His first instinct is to be defensive, to protect his cousin -- they’ve kept their identities hidden for so long, how can Kara share the truth without telling him?

But then he sees her with the Luthors. 

Lillian is distant and pragmatic, but Lex is affectionate toward her, and Clark knows his closest friend to be a trustworthy man. He would never hurt Kara.

And Lena, well.... Clark sees the clear devotion between the two women, and he’s happy Kara has found a loyal friend and a confidante of her own. And when he sees how lighter she seems now than she ever has since they left Krypton, he smiles and tells her he’s happy for her.

___________

It begins after the wedding.

More and more Kryptonians had begun integrating into Metropolis, and the Gatherings between Metropolitans and Kryptonians become less secret and become more of the celebrations they were always meant to be. Kara’s marriage had drawn Kryptonians and their supporters out, and it had been a hopeful thing.

Until the Children of Liberty emerged with them.

They had started out in the fringes -- small, random isolated attacks, and Clark had been keeping an eye on them. However, they gain momentum quickly as more Kryptonians come out of the woodwork and become bigger targets for bigger attacks.

Storefronts damaged and defaced in the dead of night. A hooded and masked group carrying torches chasing down and terrorizing a young Kryptonian girl who had ventured into Metropolis to visit the Nals’ apothecary at Bakerline. Luckily, Clark and James had been nearby and had managed to fight most of the group off, while Nia had taken the girl quickly back to New Argo and delivered her safely to her parents.

And then the illness starts.

It hits the older people first. A couple of people, then five, then ten, then enough that Kelly has to leave the apothecary so she can tend to the sick.

Then come the children. Little ones crying for their mothers as they convulse on the bed, sweating and heaving. One after the other, they fall ill and Kelly makes a valiant effort, but it’s simply too much, and even Eliza and Alex have to come and help.

It’s simply too much, and Kara cannot stand by and let this happen to her people. An illness that only spreads among Kryptonians? It’s too deliberate. She knows that somehow, the Children of Liberty are behind this.

The organization is shadowy and incredibly effective, leading Lena, Kara and Clark to believe that it's being funded by people in high places. Lex offers to help the investigation by giving them access to Luthor Trading Co resources, but the answers remain elusive.

It’s only after weeks of fruitless investigation into the Children of Liberty and after several Kryptonians have already died of the mysterious disease, that Kara discovers that the sickness is caused by a certain substance found only on Krypton called Kryptonite. She discovers that it has been introduced to New Argo’s water supply, and the efforts to stop the spread begin in earnest, but the damage has been done, and the sick continue to get sicker.

Clark manages to procure a sample with great difficulty, despite the resources Lex has offered, and he gives the sample to Lena to study.

Lena applies all her skills and intellect into developing an antidote and a vaccine to the Kryptonite like she has never applied herself to anything before. She studies the substance diligently, with little thought to food or sleep.

When she has a breakthrough -- finally discovers how the substance was produced and takes one step closer to finding a cure -- it’s not what she expects. Nor what she wants to see.

The Kryptonite, she discovers, targets specific parts of the body’s cells, and Kryptonians have a particularly high susceptibility to the substance. And even more than disturbing, some of the materials that are necessary to produce the Kryptonite are incredibly rare. In fact, she knows only one trading company who would possibly have access to these materials.

Luthor Trading Company.

She enters her mother’s study on shaking legs. Lillian spares her a short disdainful look before returning to her book.

“How could you, Mother?”

Lillian doesn’t look up, merely drawls in a bored voice “How could I what?”

“All those people.... I knew you were no saint, but I had no idea you were the devil incarnate.”

This time, Lillian does look up with casual, almost bored, disdain. “What are you talking about?”

“Those people in New Argo! You procured the materials to produce Kryptonite, and you poisoned their water supply! Why would you do this?? Don’t tell me you’re one of those fools who believes the Kryptonians are here to steal resources from our business? How could that ever justify killing them? How could that ever justify what you’ve done?”

Lillian rises from her desk and pins Lena with a glacial look. For a moment, Lena feels like a child being cowed into submission. But she holds her ground.

“If I were you, I would choose my next words wisely, Lena. Don’t go making accusations on things you know nothing about. I'm not the one you should be chastising. After all, I’m not the one who poisoned those people. And I’m certainly not the one about to deliver your friend to her greatest enemy”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Lillian laughs, low and cruel. “Oh, you truly are slow, Lena. Gullible where your brother is brilliant. He had the right idea and the right sentiment against those parasites.”

Horror creeps over Lena as the realization slowly dawns on her. “Lex....” her voice breaks. “.... Lex was the one who poisoned all those people?”

"Finally, you’re catching up.” Lillian smiles, her lips a sharp, curved line, like a scythe slashed across her face. “Why do you think he married that worthless little twit? He needed a bargaining chip. Something he could trade for the materials he needed to make the Kryptonite and wipe out New Argo.”

Lena’s heart stops, and an icy sweat breaks out all over her body. “Kara...?”

“.... Is probably being delivered to Queen Rhea’s hands as we speak.”

Something inside Lena breaks, and she doesn’t remember rushing out of Lillian’s study, or the cruel laugh that trails after her. She doesn’t remember running and almost falling down the stairs in her haste. She doesn’t even remember mounting her horse and racing through the streets of Metropolis.

All she can think of is Kara, in danger because of her. Kara who could die because Lena was a fool and had unwittingly betrayed her. All this time, she’d thought she was protecting Kara, giving hope to the people of New Argo, when really she’d been offering Kara up to Rhea on a silver platter, and leading the Kryptonians by the hand to their deaths.

She’s so numb to everything else around her that she is nearly unseated when the explosion rocks the whole city. The ground beneath her trembles in the resulting blast, and she has to hold on to keep from falling off when her horse rears up in fright. It comes from a few miles east, near the port, where the Luthor Trading Company keeps its ships docked.

KARA!

Lena wastes no time. Once her spooked horse is under control, she turns toward the docks. Her breath comes heavy and she rides as fast as she can, but she’s too late.

There’s too much confusion at the scene -- too much smoke, people running to put out the fires as they spread from the docks to the homes, people fleeing the fires with their children and their possessions.

She can’t find Kara anywhere.

She tries to stay and look for her, but one of the fire wardens sees Lena trying to approach the burning wreckage, and hauls her away, struggling the whole time. She only calms down when she’s told that only one body was pulled out of the wreckage.

"Miss Luthor.... it’s your brother.”

______________

Everything descends into chaos then.

A witness, a dock worker named Ben Lockwood, comes forward, stating that he had seen Lex Luthor in a confrontation with Clark Kent.  According to Lockwood, Kent claimed that Luthor was trying to kill the Kryptonians somehow with the illness that had spread through New Argo. Luthor, in turn, had exposed Kent and his cousin, Luthor’s wife as Kryptonian anarchists trying to incite a rebellion to take over Metropolis and claim it for the Kryptonians. 

Luthor had then produced a device with what he claimed to be an unstable substance inside. Kent had tried to take it from him, and in the ensuing struggle, the device exploded.

It doesn’t matter how factual Lockwood’s statement was. Lex’s body at the site of the explosion is enough to seal her fate.

She returns home to find her mother, and all of the valuables in the house, gone. With Lillian gone, Lex dead, his wife revealed as a Kryptonian and both her and Clark Kent missing, the only one left to shift the blame to is Lena.

The whole city condemns her. Metropolitans blame her for the wreckage her brother inflicted on their home. They point the finger at her and say she must have been involved in it somehow. Even orchestrated it. After all, she is the only one left unscathed.

She inherits the company, and the mess Lex left behind. There’s still the Kryptonite poisoning to contend with, and now that she knows her brother was behind it, she throws herself into the work even more. People are still dying, and if she doesn’t come up with a vaccine soon, even more people will die.

All because Lena was a fool.

On top of it all, the Children of Liberty grows stronger -- now they call themselves Cadmus, and this time, their messages of hate contain a proclamation of vengeance, for the life of Metropolis’ son, Lex Luthor -- whom they have now claimed as their hero.

They blame Lena for this too.

She grits her teeth and bears it all, as she should. She scrambles blindly to keep everything together. The vaccine. The business. The family name.

But even all this is easier to bear than the memory of seeing Kara’s room empty. Of walking up the stairs to the Danvers’ porch and knocking on the doors fruitlessly.  The house is dead and empty, devoid of Kara’s warmth and Alex’s teasing laughter.

Kara is gone, and Lena is completely and utterly alone.

________________

It’s a member of Rhea’s court who saves Kara.

His name is J’onn J’onnz and he reveals himself first to Clark the night of the explosion. He tells him of how he had served as one of Jor-El’s advisors before he was murdered, but Rhea had taken his wife and daughters, and threatened to kill them if he didn’t serve her.

He tells Clark of Rhea’s search for the last remaining members of the House of El, and how it had ended when Lex Luthor had approached her with a deal -- he would deliver Kara Zor-El and Kal-El to her, if she gave him the means to eradicate the Kryptonian population in New Argo.

J’onn also tells him of the growing rebellion in Krypton, of the roiling unrest under Rhea’s regime. J’onn himself has been involved in the emerging movement, at great personal risk. But the movement needs a leader the people can rally behind.

It’s at this point that Clark Kent makes a decision.

He is at a crossroads. He can choose to claim the mantle of the House of El as he was meant to all those years ago. Or he can confront the terrible reality that lies before him now -- that his people here in New Argo are dying, and it is because of the man he had loved and called a friend.

He chooses the latter. And now he lies on a pallet in a dark, cramped room, bleeding half to death as his wife mops his brow and tries to stave off his fever. He has bounty on his head placed there by the Children of Liberty -- or Cadmus, as he hears they’re called now -- for “killing” Lex Luthor, and he’s going to die if he doesn’t get medical help soon.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps as Lois adjusts the bandage she had tied around wound on his stomach. “If it weren’t for me--”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Smallville,” Lois presses a kiss to his brow. “This still beats Sunday dinners with my Father.”

He smiles weakly but the smile turns into a groan of pain as Lois presses on the wound again to keep it from bleeding.

At least Kara is safe with J’onn now.

_______________

Kara braces her hands on the table in front of her. The wood creaks where her hands grip it so forcefully, but she doesn’t hear it.

The messenger who delivered the news from Metropolis quails under her murderous stare, and J’onn dismisses him before he can say anything more. As the messenger scurried out, he lays a calming hand on Kara’s shoulder.

They’ve been travelling together for months, ever since the night she had been secreted away from Metropolis by Alex and J’onn and Eliza. In all that time, the one thing that had kept Kara going forward and preventing her from going back was the fact that with Lillian forced underground and Lex dead, Rhea remained the biggest threat.

He also knows Kara well enough by now to know when she needs a moment. “You need to calm down, Kara. This is a good thing.”

Kara looks up at him, her eyes almost wild. “How is this good, J’onn? How is any of this good? My cousin is missing, possibly dead. And my friend is being condemned for something she didn’t do, and the whole of Metropolis is out for her blood.”

J’onn keeps his voice calm and steady. “You heard what James reported, they’re still searching for Kal-El. Cadmus would want all of New Argo to know if Kal-El was dead. All signs point to him still being alive. As for the Luthors, Luthor Trading Company is failing. We know Rhea was relying on their trading partnership for funds. Without the Luthors, we’ve managed to cut off another significant limb holding up Rhea’s rule..... We have achieved so much in these past months, Kara. We have dismantled structures that have been in place for thirteen years. We have forced Rhea to retreat as her forces become smaller and smaller... I don’t think you realize how much this means to these people fighting with us. To the people of Krypton. We are so close to bringing down Rhea’s regime and restoring Krypton’s freedom. To restoring your throne. You cannot give up now.”

Kara looks away, and for the first time, she doesn’t accept his comfort. She shrugs her shoulder out of his head. “I need some air.”

J’onn opens his mouth to say something, but Alex steps forward and shakes her head. “I’ll talk to her.”

Kara isn’t outside the tent, but Alex finds her sitting in front of a dying fire near the edge of their camp. She’s poking viciously at the fizzling embers, a dark expression on her face.

Alex almost hesitates. She’s never seen Kara like this, not in all the years they’ve been sisters. “Wanna tell me what’s going on in your head?”

Kara exhales, long and slow. When she speaks, her voice breaks. “I want to go back, Alex. I need to go back. I know we’re doing the right thing here, but.... Clark... He could be dying, Alex. And a part of me is so angry at him right now, because he’s the reason why I’m here, because he chose to stay in Metropolis. And no one else would take up the crest of the House of El. He abandoned it a long time ago, and I was the only -- the only one left. And if he dies... if he dies, I truly will be the only El left.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, because she knows this has been building inside Kara for a long time.

“And Lena.” Kara’s eyes are shiny with tears now, reflecting the firelight. “She’s all alone, Alex. Everyone is turning against her, and she has no one. Lex betrayed her, and I left her. And I know you think she helped Lex, I can see it in your face every time I bring her up. But I know her, Alex. I know she would never hurt anyone, let alone create the Kryptonite that killed so many people. She would never, Alex.”

Kara’s voice breaks into a sob, and she pulls her knees up to her chest. “I never even got to say goodbye. To either of them.”

Alex scoots closer to her sister, tentatively putting one arm around her. Kara doesn’t brush her off like she did J’onn, but she doesn’t relax either. "You didn't think that Lex would do what he did either, Kara. None of us did, and yet here we are..... The truth is, Lena is a Luthor. And I think we've learned now that Luthors cannot be trusted. I know you care about Lena, but your life is in danger as well, and your people are in danger. If you go back, and the Luthors don't attack you, there's still Rhea to contend with. And she's not above hurting people just to get to you. We can't go back."

Under her arm, Kara sighs deeply, and a few tears slip from the corners of her eyes. She sniffs and gently disengages from Alex’s arm. “You’re right. I-I should probably get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Alex.”

Without waiting for a reply, Kara trudges off to her tent, leaving Alex to stare after her with a heavy heart.

________________

In the middle of the night, a knock sounds on the door of the Olsens’ house in New Argo. After a few seconds of silence, the knocking resumes, and James drags himself out of bed to answer, unwilling to let the knocking wake his sleeping mother, and knowing it would take a canon to wake Kelly in the middle of the night.

He peers through the hole in the door to see who this midnight caller is, and when he sees, he almost doesn’t open the door.

The knocking resumes, more urgently this time, and James sighs. He opens the door to find himself face-to-face with Lena Luthor.

“What are you doing here?” James knows his voice is hostile, but he doesn’t care.

If Lena is at all intimidated by his hostility, she doesn’t show it. “I need your help. Yours and Kelly’s.”

James scoffs, shaking his head with a humorless laugh. “You Luthors really are something. You think I would ever help you, after what your brother did?”

He moves to close the door, but Lena blocks him with her arm. “Wait! Please! I found him! I found Clark!”

That stops him for a moment. “What?”

“I found Clark.” Lena repeats breathlessly. “He’s in a cellar in an abandoned house near the docks. Lois is with him. He’s badly hurt--”

“And why should I trust you?”

Lena fixes him with a level look, her green eyes clear. “I know you don’t trust me, James, and I understand. Truly, I do. If I were in your position, I would feel the same way. But Clark needs help. If we don’t help him, he will die.”

James stares at her for a long moment, trying to see the lie in her eyes, and she meets his gaze head-on, without any trace of artifice. Then he sighs. He might end up regretting this later, but if there’s even the slightest chance he could save Clark, he’ll take it.

He opens the door wide enough for Lena to walk through. “Tell me what I need to do.”

_________________

When Kara Zor-El finally sets foot in the palace of Krypton -- the place of her birth, her old home -- after thirteen years of being gone, it's as if she never left. The exact scene lifted out of her nightmares -- people screaming and fleeing, the West Tower burning -- plays out in front of her numb eyes as if Fate is glories in letting her relive it again.

This time, she walks through the great doors, no longer the fleeing young girl, being carried kicking and screaming from her home. This time, she’s come to take it back.

She encounters very little resistance. Servants scurry past her to flee or plead for mercy. Rhea’s soldiers lay down arms in surrender at the sight of them.

Kara knows where she’ll find Rhea. She walks slowly through the Great Hall, up the steps she’d run down as a child. The last time she had been here, her uncle’s blood had marked the steps, and her father had stood between her and death.

She enters the throne room, knowing she’ll find Rhea there.

What she doesn’t expect to see are the three bodies lying at the feet of the throne. Two dead, one dying.

Kara drops her sword and rushes to Rhea’s side immediately. Her husband and son lie lifeless beside her, but Rhea continues to choke on life. Kara spies the small vial of what she recognizes as Kryptonite tipped over on the seat of the throne.

She orders the others to check on Rhea’s husband and son, but she knows it’s useless. Rhea she lifts as blood drips from her mouth. This woman killed her parents and has plagued her life for so many years, has given her nightmares nearly every night -- and yet now that she sees the husk of a woman choking on her own blood and bile, her eyes wide and gaping, it feels cruel to let her die like this.

Rhea's eyes bulge at her, demonic even to her last breath. "I will take my family to hell before I let you have them."

Kara draws her sword to end her suffering, but Rhea wrenches away, refusing mercy. There is nothing clean or dignified about her death, she retches and claws at her throat as her body attempts to fight off the poison to no avail. And all Kara can think of is how this woman sentenced all those people in New Argo to die in this way.

When it is done, she orders the bodies to be disposed of in a secret plot, with no markers or memorials. If she could erase every single trace of their existence on Krypton, she would.

She should be satisfied. 

She should feel some sort of release now that the woman who had killed her family is dead. 

But she doesn’t. Instead Kara just feels tired. And empty.

Maybe it is true, what she told Lena when they first met. She’ll never be satisfied.

_______________

James hesitates at the doorway to Lena’s sitting room. “Listen, Lena... Perhaps you should... stay home for today.”

Lena looks up at his concerned face. It’s a far cry from the look of judgment and mistrust with which he had greeted her when she first asked him for help.

“Clark and I can help Kelly administer the vaccines. You don’t need to put yourself through that again.”

‘That’ had been the persistent rejection of the people of New Argo whenever Lena came and attempted to administer the vaccine.

It’s been a month since she had finally completed it. James hadn’t trusted her at first, had kept looking over her shoulder whenever she worked. Or followed her whenever she brought down supplies to the basement of Luthor Manor where she had made accommodations for Clark and Lois. Eventually, however, his distrust lessened -- Lena suspects Clark or Lois or Kelly or even Winn had talked to him -- and Lena considered it a small personal victory when he had allowed her to inoculate him.

The other people of New Argo, however, are not as easy to convince.

Every time Lena arrives to administer the inoculations, doors and shutters close in her face. Everyone is too afraid of her, of what the Luthor might do to them. They don’t trust her, or her cure.

She’s seen Clark talk to the citizens about this, but Lena knows it’s pointless. The damage was too great. The kind of fear and hatred Lex left behind takes a long time to be erased. It might never heal completely, just like Clark’s own scars.

“You’re right, James.” Lena smiles, handing over the box of vaccines to him. “Thank you. My presence hinders the operation more than it helps. This should be about helping people, not about me. You, Kelly and Clark can do it.”

“Just you and Kelly today, I think, my friend.”

Both James and Lena turn to see Clark limping toward them. Lois walks beside him, ready to help if needed. “I’d like to talk to Lena, if you’re done.”

James nods at Clark, then tips his head at Lena, before leaving silently, taking the box with him.

Clark seats himself slowly at the chair beside the fireplace and Lois, bless her, pretends to busy herself somewhere else. Lena takes a seat opposite him, waiting.

“I’ve been thinking, Lena. There are still Kryptonians in Krypton who are vulnerable to Kryptonite. Someone needs to bring the vaccines to them, to ensure that no one else suffers from this disease.”

Lena immediately picks up on his train of thought. “And you want me to do it?”

“I need to stay behind to protect New Argo from Cadmus. Kelly, I suspect, will want to go, but she’s agreed to stay behind at least until we finish the inoculations here. James could go with you, to accompany you on your journey as well as witness to the events here. And I know Winn wants to go as well. You wouldn’t be alone.”

Lena hesitates, biting her lip. Metropolis is all she's ever known. And even though Kara has told her so much about it, Krypton is still a foreign place that seems as distant as a dream.

“I... I truly don’t know, Clark. Kryptonians hate me right now, because of what Lex did. And my family’s company is on its last legs. And there’s still so much to be done...” Lena's words trail off when she sees Clark smiling gently at her. 

"You are not Lex, Lena.” Clark reaches over and places his hand gently on top of hers. The gesture reminds her so much of Kara. She’d been doing an admirable job of not thinking about Kara the past month. Once she’d found out that Kara was alive and unharmed, she had deliberately stopped herself from thinking about her.

It hurt too much.

“You have so much good in you, Lena. So much love in your heart..... Why do you stay and keep your heart here, for a family that betrayed you so cruelly, for a legacy that's been tainted and holds nothing but poison for you -- when we both know that heart belongs to someone else in Krypton? To the woman who has only ever held love for you in hers?"

Lena looks up at him, eyes wide, and Clark chuckles. “You talk in your sleep. I hear you sometimes when you fall asleep at your desk. And always, it’s Kara’s name you say.”

Lena worries her lower lip with her teeth again, looking away. “What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Oh, Lena. If I know Kara, I don’t think that would ever be the case.”  Clark pulls her into an embrace that reminds her so much of Lex, of the brother she had before this madness, and Lena chokes out a sob. Clark strokes her hair gently.

"I will stay. Krypton has Kara, but the people of New Argo need me. Cadmus is still a threat, and there is a family business that needs to be run here, am I correct?"

Lena looks up at him, surprised. "You mean --"

Clark grins at her. "Well, we’d have to do something about your mother trying to kill me first. And I've never tried running a company, so I might do a far worse job than you did. But I have Ma and Pa, and Lois. I don't think the trading business is ready for Lois, but I think it'll have to be. She won't give it a choice....You don't mind if I change it to El Trading Company, do you?"

Lena laughs. "I wouldn't mind setting Lois loose on those pompous bastards. Morgan Edge won't know what hit him."

She embraces Clark warmly. "Thank you, Clark."

Clark smiles into her hair. "No need for thanks between family, Lena."

He waves her off at the docks, Lois, Kelly and the Kents beside him. Lena stands on the deck of the ship to Krypton, clutching the red cape that Clark had given her to wear. 

He had told Lena that it would keep her safe. Now that the House of El was once again securely on the throne, no Kryptonian would dare attack anyone who wore the El crest on their person.

The sea voyage is enjoyable enough for Lena. Though she pities poor Winn who got seasick on the first day and never gained his sea legs until the last day and had to spend most of the trip in his bunk.

She spends most of her time on the deck, feeling the salty breeze against her skin. James often accompanies her. Now that he no longer distrusts her, she has observed a significant difference in his attitude towards her.

He is kinder, gentler, more thoughtful around her. He makes for quite fun company, to be honest, and he makes her laugh when she’s in a pensive mood.

Lena is not blind to his attentions, his courting. She allows him, because he’s a good man and, quite honestly, it's nice to have someone who wants her, after so long being hated. 

But at the same time, it makes her feel guilty, because she knows her heart belongs only to one person.

But that person is Queen of Krypton now, and if she was too good for Lena when she was still Linda Lee Danvers, she's leagues beyond Lena now. 

What does Lena have that she can offer Kara now? No prestige, no money, no protection, just the tatters of a name that she was once proud of that now only leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

And even if Lena does something to offer Kara, there's nothing to tell Lena that she views Lena as anything more than a once-sister or a former friend whose brother betrayed Kara in the cruelest way possible. And hadn’t she betrayed Kara as well, by pushing her towards Lex? Her own selfishness, her desire to have Kara in her life, had blinded her to Lex’s machinations, and she had delivered Kara to him without a fight.

And even if, by some miracle, Kara doesn't hate her -- if Fate smiles down on Lena for once in her miserable life -- and Kara still holds some measure of love for Lena in her heart, that love would never be the same as the way Lena loves her. Not in the way that the mere memory of Kara's smile fills Lena's heart with unbridled joy. Or the way each small touch of Kara's hand on hers had made her whole body burn and her heart skip a beat.

So Lena tempers her battered yet relentlessly hopeful heart, douses it with pragmatic reasoning, and determinedly turns toward James with a hopeful smile, as if she can teach herself to love him and not Kara.

Kara was wrong. Lena can be satisfied. She is.

She repeats the words in her head every night and wills herself to think of James’ hands holding hers, instead of Kara’s. She is satisfied.

____________

The ship docks at Dendahu in Krypton and immediately word spreads of the woman who wears the El sigil, who claims she bears the cure for the poison their brothers and sisters on New Argo have died from.

Kara thinks -- she dares to hope that it might be Lena. That her friend whom she loves so much doesn't hate her like her "husband" did. That she's come for Kara.

She almost races to the docks -- a full day's trip from the capital on the fastest horse. But Alex stops her. Caution, Alex warns. They still don't actually know how involved Lena was with the Children of Liberty, or how much she actually supported Lex.

"Think with your head, not with your heart." Alex tells her, and Kara knows she's just being cautious and protective, but she wants to shake her and tell her, that she knows Lena, and she knows that Lena would never want to hurt anyone, that Lena would never do anything so vile.

They arrive at the capital two days later, and Kara nearly runs out to meet them. They're surrounded by palace attendants and a small crowd. She sees Winn first, looking curiously around at the courtyard. James is at the bottom of the gigantic steps, helping a cloaked feminine figure off her horse.

Her back is turned, and Kara can see she is wearing the sigil of the House of El on her back, her dark hair spilling over it. Kara's breath gets stuck in her throat, and she expels it all in one breathless sigh. "Lena...."

The figure turns to her once she's dismounted, and Kara can see tears in green eyes that mirror the ones pooling in Kara's own, obscuring her vision.

All dignity lost and forgotten, Kara stumbles down the stairs, her hands reaching out for her friend. She can vaguely see Lena thrust the ornate box in her hands into Winn’s, and her own arms open to receive Kara.

“Lena... Lena...” Kara falls into Lena's arms, clinging to her friend as if her life depends on it. She can hear herself sobbing Lena's name over and over, and she knows people are watching them, but she can't stop herself.

She buries her face in Lena's neck and inhales her friend's familiar heady scent as she sobs. She doesn't even know why her emotions feel so out of control, she just knows she wants to keep Lena in her arms after so long without her. 

She clings to Lena the way she used to cling to Kal, when she had lost everything she held dear, and in some ways it feels like she had, and it’s now been restored to her. 

It’s as if the emptiness she’d been feeling since Rhea’s death has been replaced by the fullness of Lena’s presence. Kara feels whole again.

And Lena seems just as keen to hold her. She whispers "Oh, Kara..." into her hair and strokes her back, calling her darling and all these sweet names, and Kara just cries.

Eventually, Winn snickers and James clears his throat, reminding them that they must part, and Kara does so unwillingly, brushing back a lock of hair behind Lena's ear with a watery laugh.  

She accepts the vaccine for the Kryptonite and extends and invitation for Lena and the boys to stay at the palace. James delivers his report, and testifies to Lena's kindness and everything she's done, not only to cure the Kryptonite, but also to save Kal-El. Winn seconds it enthusiastically, though he’s not

Kara beams at her friend and threads their fingers together just like they used to. ”I never doubted it.”

Lena smiles back sweetly, squeezing her fingers.

As the days pass, however, Kara notices a change. James is more solicitous and thoughtful around Lena, always inquiring about her, holding doors open for her, offering to help her out of carriages, eager to keep her company on walks.

It should make Kara happy that two of her closest friends are becoming closer and closer. James is a good man, and Lena deserves all the happiness she can find in the world. 

But all she feels is a heaviness in her chest, like a lump under her breastbone, whenever she sees James smiling at Lena, or whenever she looks for Lena to keep her company on her daily walk and she finds out from one of the servants that Lena has been accompanied by James. The effervescent sense of happiness she’d felt with Lena’s arrival dims, and she feels guilty for it. She should be happy for them.

But she can't help but feel jealous when she finds out that James has taken it upon himself to show Lena around the capital. It's childish and immature, Kara knows it, but she was the one who had told Lena of these special places in Krypton back when they were still talking in contented silence in Lena's sitting room in Luthor Manor.

It was Kara who had shared these places and her memories of them to Lena, and she wanted to be the one to share these places with her in the flesh. Instead, it's James who brings Lena to the gardens of Kandor, to Kara's favorite river.

She sulks in the palace, until Lena returns home, flushed and bright-eyed, on James's arm, hanging onto his every word. All the while, the jealousy inside Kara simmers and hulks like a hurt creature until she can’t take it anymore.

She very politely and tentatively summons Lena to her private sitting room in the palace. They haven't seen each other much at all since Lena came to Krypton -- not nearly enough for Kara -- and she desperately misses the talks they used to have by the fire when they were still in Metropolis.

But so much has changed since then, and she hesitates.

She awkwardly asks Lena if she's enjoying Krypton, and Lena smiles and nods "Everyone has been good to me here, and I am so thankful. To you, most of all. Your kindness and warm welcome has turned the favor of Kryptonians toward me, and I -- I'm just grateful you still consider me a friend. Even after everything that Lex did."

Kara reaches out for her with wide eyes. "Of course I still consider you a friend! Lena..... I never, for a second, thought that you had anything to do with Lex's betrayal. You are far, far too good for that. And he... he betrayed you too. He betrayed us all, but he was your brother and you loved him."

“ But I introduced the two of you. I encouraged the two of you -- and he was your husband. I toasted your union, and the whole time--"

"It wasn't about Lex," Kara cuts in, her gaze dropping away from Lena's. Her hands open and close spasmodically at her sides, and the familiar nervous little habit almost makes Lena smile. "It wasn't him that I--"

Her voice trails off, and a charged silence grows between them. After a moment, Kara seems to steel herself. "I have something for you."

She reaches up to the back of her neck and unclasps the necklace Alura gave her all those years ago, that final night when Kara was forced to flee the palace.

The pendant with the sigil of the House of El glints slightly in the firelight.

"This was my Mother's. She gave it to me the night she died. It was given to her by my Father years ago on their Bonding Ceremony. Do you remember what that is?"

"Yes, of course. You told me that was a Kryptonian wedding. A sacred union." 

Kara nods, swallowing thickly. "Yes. I-I want you to have it."

Lena's mouth drops and she seems to stop breathing. When she collects herself. "Oh, Kara... I-I couldn't take something so precious away from you."

Kara shakes her head. "I'm giving it to you. You saved us, Lena. You made the cure for Kryptonite. You risked everything to bring it here."

"I had to. I betrayed you. My brother --"

"Is not you. You didn’t betray me. He betrayed you. He betrayed all of us. You suffered the most for it, but you still righted his wrongs."

"It's what any decent person would have done."

Kara shakes her head, smiling softly at Lena, her azure eyes brilliant in the firelight. "You truly don't see how amazing you are, do you? I wish you could see yourself as I see you. You.... you are everything, Lena."

Lena's breath hitches, and she seems unable to speak. Kara holds up Alura's necklace in offering, her hands trembling ever so slightly. "Will you accept this?"

Lena nods mutely, seemingly overcome. Kara moves closer, holding the thin silver chain up, and motions for her to turn around. Lena does, and Kara feels how still she is, like the surface of a lake, one moment away from rippling.

Lena moves her hair away from her neck, exposing the tender, vulnerable curve of her nape, and Kara is overcome with the desire, no the need, to touch the smooth skin revealed to her.

Kara clasps the necklace with trembling fingers and moves closer still, her eyes moving downward to where the El sigil rests just underneath Lena's collarbones. Lena is motionless. She doesn't even seem to breathe when Kara's fingers find the small crest where it rests just above Lena's breast. 

Of their own accord, Kara's fingers follow the chain upward, skimming ever so softly over Lena's skin. She doesn't realize how close she is until she feels Lena's soft breath against her cheek, shallow and tentative, as if she's unwilling to even breathe with Kara this close.

Kara starts to pull away, afraid that she's overstepped, but Lena exhales, her breath warming Kara's lips. “Please.”

Kara's mouth parts, and she is rendered helpless. She presses their lips together, softly at first. Warmth suffuses her whole body with that one small action, as if her whole being is rejoicing at the contact. 

It feels so.... right. 

 As if coming home at the end of their long journey.

Kara presses forward, her fingers finding Lena's jaw and tilting her closer. Lena complies, her neck arching to find Kara, to press deeper. Kara urges her lips to part, and Lena accepts her with a small moan that sets her nerves on fire.

She was right. She will never be satisfied. 

Not now that she knows the taste of Lena. 

"Stay with me," Kara murmurs the words into the heated air between them. She can feel her lips trembling. She can’t bear it. "Please?"

Lena's eyes open, and in the brilliant jade-green of them, Kara can see her whole future. "Always."

________________

By SorrowsFlower

FUCKING HELL I FINALLY FINISHED THIS!!! I have not slept in 36 hours for this shit!!!

What made decide to write it into a long-ass fic instead of the AU format I had it in, I will never know. If you made it this far, I love you.

[blarrghe]

“That’s the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.” For Dorian x anyone?

Do you want some more DoriAnders? You want some more DoriAnders. Some kind of modern au where Anders works at a clinic and is quasi-dating a politician-ish Dorian? Idk but this was fun. @dadrunkwriting --

“Well hello there,” Dorian’s voice is sticky with self-satisfied charm as he sidles up beside Anders, huddled up with half a sandwich in a corner of his overcrowded clinic, bedpans and sharps bins on the shelf beside him, his back to a wall and gangly legs dangling off the one unused cot still left in the place. The other half of his stale-brown-bread-and-hummus-sandwich is in the hands of some long gone urchin now, and even that poor kid made a face and ripped away the crusts to offer to the seabirds at the docks, but it’s what Anders has, and Void, he needs to eat something if he’s going to make it through the next five hours. 

Dorian also makes a face at his sandwich, without even having to taste it, and then he hands Anders three things: a book, a coffee, and a small brown paper bag decorated with green vines and a spiralling monogram to match the one on the coffee cup. Anders takes a grateful sip of the coffee before he can even think to say thank you, then looks at the book. 

“What’s this?” 

“A treatise on Harm Reduction, seemed like your sort of thing.” Dorian casts a glance at the sharps bins, then a less favorable glance at the bedpans. Anders flips through the book. 

“Oh. Yeah… this is —” 

“— what we were talking about yesterday, I’m thinking of making it mandatory reading for the new Health Minister. What do you think?” 

Solid research, it looks like. Studies with hard data and a writing style even a child could follow — or an upper class politician presiding over the medical field despite never having set foot in a medical school, for that matter. He nods, takes another bite of his sandwich, and chews slowly, reading over the table of contents. Safe injection sites, decriminalization, addiction and mental health… he nods some more. Then Dorian grabs the sandwich from his hands, and as Anders stops nodding to look up at him in sharp offense, he tosses it into a hazardous waste bin. 

“Hey!” 

Dorian takes a pastry out of the brown paper bag and sticks it directly into Anders’ open, protesting, mouth. Immediately, it begins to melt into a buttery, apples-and-honey tasting miracle on his tongue. He chews a great deal faster, swallows, and takes another bite. Dorian smiles with still more of that self-satisfaction, stickier than the pastry. 

“What’s all this for?” Anders asks skeptically, once he’s finished the pastry and washed it down with a healthy swig of rich, creamy coffee. A little too much cream, actually, but he doesn’t dare complain. 

“The book? I wanted to have it reviewed by someone who knows what he’s talking about. It’s well-researched, by the looks of things, but nothing beats practical knowledge, in my experience.” Dorian shrugs, “the cafe was on the way.” 

Anders takes another sip of coffee, squinting over the rim at him. 

“What? I figured that when asking someone as overworked as you for a favour, it would be best to pay in caffeine up front.” 

Anders is still waiting for the part where he asks a favour. 

“So will the book do?” Dorian asks expectantly, “I mean, take your time with it, but I’ve got politicians to harass into better practices, you know.” 

Judging the book? His favour is judging the book. Anders gives the chapter on mental health a cursory look-through, brows furrowing as he nods along to the subheadings. 

“Seems perfectly informative, at first glance.” he answers, shutting the book again and offering it out for Dorian to take back. 

“Oh, good.” Dorian says, not taking it, then looking at Anders’ outstretched hand in apparent confusion, “you can keep that one, I have more.” Then he pushes himself up off the cot with a quick and friendly pat to Anders’ arm, and begins to wave his goodbye. “Well, I’m sure you have patients to attend to,” he says, almost apologetically, “call me after your shift if you’re not too tired, we’ll discuss it in more detail.”

Dorian turns to leave, moving extra carefully around the teetering shelf. Anders blinks, and finally remembers to say thank you. 

“Dorian —” he stutters urgently. Dorian turns back again, eyes widening in concern, but a perfect, charming smirk still on his perfect, charming lips. “This is — this is the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Anders blurts out, like a damned buffoon. He’s sleep deprived, he thinks, blame it on that. He takes another quick sip of the coffee, almost choking. Dorian makes a face not dissimilar to the one he made over the sandwich.  

“If asking a favour while you’re working is kind, I shudder to think how you’ll react when I ask you to dinner.” Dorian says breezily. Anders chokes on the coffee. “We’ll discuss it tonight.” Dorian promises. Before Anders can do any more stuttering or choking, he’s turned again, leaving Anders on a wave and one far too coordinated wink.

[zargsnake]

Knightkiller: Anakin and Obi-Wan’s First Adventure

Chapter 9: Crix Spartak

Word Count: 2309 Links: Chapter 1, Table of Contents

*   *   *

Two Years Ago

Shmi sits at a desk by the windowsill in Watto’s shop, composing fake documentation for a shipment to a more legitimate planet. She used to do this kind of thing all the time for Gardulla on Nal Hutta, and she's very good at it. Forging and faking are probably her best skills. She knows legal-speak and formatting; she has a knack for coming up with random numbers and convincing names. When she has a sample of handwriting or writing style from a real person, she can imitate it flawlessly, which she has done for business leaders, crime lords, and even Senators. When she doesn't have anything from anyone real, she invents someone. She has no honest idea what the closest Senator's name really is, but she's invented a self-serious personality and a squiggly autograph that has tricked docking-receivers as far away as Rodia.

Watto has little use of this power of hers for his day-to-day needs, but he sometimes comes up with plots to trick his neighbors using Shmi’s forgeries. And, sometimes, like now, he needs her tricks to get rid of stuff, like these ten tons of toxic waste he ended up with from a bad bet, and that he now wants to pass off as fertilizer and sell to a gullible offworld farmer who won't be able to trace it back to him.

Writing isn't bad work. It’s challenging, and, malicious as it is, she knows she could enjoy it, if she let herself: getting into people's heads, living other lives, for just a short while. It is like solving a puzzle, to figure out how to make other people believe something that isn’t true. The cruel intention of the trickery is not her own, it never is, so she doesn't let that aspect of her work bother her, not anymore.

The only bad part, from her point of view, is the knowledge that her words get to go somewhere that she does not.

And the only good part, really, is that she gets to look at her little boy as she writes. He sits on the desk, next to her cobbled-together, whirring word-processor. He is carefully cleaning a fragile hyper-carburetor with a rag, putrid green gear-soap, and a very serious expression.

Suddenly Crix Spartak pokes head through the window: “Skywalkers!”

“Crix!!” Anakin nearly drops the carb, but of course his reflexes are too fast. He spins around on the desk and grins at the gladiator.

Crix leans on the windowsill -- then lifts his arm quickly from the heated clay, and leans just one calloused elbow on the sill. “Good morning, Ani.” He reaches across and tussles his hair. The boy nearly glows with happiness.

Shmi raises her eyebrows at the man her son admires so much. “Good morning, Crix. Can we help you?”

“D’you wanna go for a spin on the old speeder?”

“YES,” answers Anakin.

“We have a lot of work to do. Not all of us have 6 free days out of 7,” answers Shmi.

“I don't have any work, Mom!”

“I can think of one or two things for you,” she tells him.

“Just a loop round the block, Shmi? You'll be back in a minute.” Crix rests his head on his hand and smiles at her, looking just like a puppy.

She looks at him with a very deliberate expression. “I can't.”

“Take me!” says Anakin, heedlessly.

“Ani! You need to stay with me while I work. I don't want you zooming around, testing the limit on your tracker-bomb.”

“I've calculated for that,” says Crix. “Your tracker-bombs are the same as mine. The loop I planned wouldn't go anywhere near the limit.”

“Please, Mom? I'll work twice as hard.”

“No need for that.”

“I'll bring him back in ten minutes.” Shmi does not look convinced. “Five minutes.”

“Please?” Anakin begs again.

“Ten minutes,” she concedes.

Anakin sets the half-cleaned carb down, crawls off the desk, moves the carb onto a shelf, and climbs back onto the desk and over the word-processor into Crix’s arms.

“I'll bring him right back to you,” says Crix.

“If you don't, I will kill you,” says Shmi.

“I'm more afraid of you than any gladiator alive!” he tells her, laughing.

“Good! You should be!”

“Is that YOUR speeder?!” Anakin interrupts them.

“Yup! -- Well. Not really. But I won it, anyway.”

“It's BEAUTIFUL!”

“Ani!” Her son looks at her. “Keep it down.”

“Sorry!”

“Have fun.”

“I will!”

Crix grins at her, drops a big yellow flower on her desk, and points at it. She rolls her eyes and he blushes and carries Anakin to the speeder to drive him around. Shmi can't compose at all without her little muse at her side. She sits there, worrying, as they drive somewhere out of sight. A minute passes, and she picks up the flower. She doesn't recognize it. It must be an import. He must have won this, too.

They return in just eight minutes.

   *   *   *

One Year Ago

Anakin is not supposed to be in the audience of the death match. No one wants him here, not his master, not his mother, not even Crix himself.

But he just had to come. Everyone is talking about it. He’s never known anyone so talked-about, so famous. He feels so proud. Crix is like family. And everyone, all over town, is raving about him, how unstoppable he is, what a bloody, powerful killer he is. And now Crix’s master has rounded up a spectacular squad from faraway worlds, incredible people who are paying huge amounts for the chance to fight him, to fight Crix, to fight his mom’s cool boyfriend.

They say there’s monster-men, like Wookiees, and there’s even a Mando, whatever that means. Everyone is saying they’re crazy. Everyone is saying all his opponents are gonna die, shot by Crix’s bespoke mega-blaster or crushed in Crix’s bare fists. Anakin can picture it, but he can’t really believe it; he has only ever seen those hands used for good. It'll be Crix’s grandest fight yet, maybe even the grandest fight that's ever happened in the universe. No one can keep Anakin away from such a prospect!

He has an average amount of chores, but he sets his droids on them. His newest and, by far, most ambitious droid, C-3PO, isn't much for cleaning or repairing, yet, but he can speak, a little, and write, a little more. His mom bought Anakin a fairy-tale book and assigned him to copy out the letters to improve his handwriting. Anakin sets Threepio on the task instead, and hopes that his mom won't be able to tell.

He does feel guilty, but he's too excited to feel that guilty. He sneaks out without telling her. There was a sandstorm this morning; fortunately it has passed, but the leftover wind keeps kicking sand into the air.

The arena is in a different neighborhood than the slave houses. Anakin lifts up the tarp of a delivery truck and hides in there to hitch a ride. To his surprise, the truck is full of gross little creatures called gizka. They crowd around him and rub their big faces on his legs. He pulls one onto his lap and pets its soft horns and noses.

“I wonder why they're taking you to the arena? ... Oh, I bet the gladiators are gonna slaughter you.”

He finds it kind of funny, in a sad way, that these little animals are so cheerful; that their doom is close, and they have no idea. He pretends his hand is a sword and chops it on their heads, making them coo and squawk. He laughs.

Once he hears a crowd outside, he sneaks out of the truck and hides among the people. He is far from the only urchin running around, but he does not pick pockets. His mom forbids it, and they wouldn't be allowed to keep the money, anyway.

He follows the other children and soon finds the hole in the arena’s wall which they use to sneak in and out. He fits inside the thin crack without too much difficulty, and flits around the dirty, dark area behind the stadium seating. He finds a spot with a good view, between the legs of some pink-skinned person. He leans on the bench and rests his head on his arms, and watches the battles with wide eyes.

He almost doesn't recognize Crix, in a ridiculous helmet with a big feather, but the nasty red scar across his shirtless torso gives his identity away. He's touched that scar; it feels rough and scratchy.

Crix is more than just a killer; he is a performer. He yells and growls and taunts; he makes obscene gestures and even takes bites out of his opponents, both animals and people. Anakin feels shocked and uncomfortable to see him this way, but it does not lessen his affection for him. It only increases his amazement, that one person could contain two such different personalities.

Just as the pilots and farmers had predicted, Crix wins every battle with ease. His main strategy involves shooting to stun, weaken, and disarm his opponents, and then taking them down with glamorous, bloodthirsty wrestling moves. Anakin has never seen such gratuitous and extended violence before, though he has seen plenty of people die, from podrace explosions to mechanical accidents. Until today, the bloodiest thing he ever saw was someone's tracker-bomb explode their head, but some of these deaths far surpass that one. When he starts to feel dizzy, he looks away and takes deep breaths, but he is too invested to look away for long.

Something about all this murder makes him feel cold. But it isn't a real cold. And it isn't nearly as bothersome as this heat or this wind. He rests his sweaty forehead on his arms and swallows his own spit, but it is a weak comfort. The bench shakes under his arms as the audience bangs their feet on it. Anakin marvels at their energy. He wishes he was having as much fun as they are. He really is trying to enjoy himself, and he sort of is. The thrill of it all is similar to podracing, and the triumphs are satisfying. He supposes he will grow into liking it.

After forty minutes of this action, the host announces the next opponent -- the Mando, Chahlee Tiango. Anakin watches the helmeted warrior posture and pose as the audience frantically cheers and boos.

The little boy is starting to feel bored. This would be much more exciting if they were flying around on fast ships, not shooting and punching each other. The only real difference anymore is the color of the blood. But Chahlee looks like a human, meaning he'll just bleed red, which isn't anything new.

Anakin looks at Crix, whose helmet cracked in half in the last battle. Now that his face is visible, Anakin can enjoy his confident smile. He wishes his mom were here to see her boyfriend winning so much. He supposes she would hate it.

As Anakin's thoughts wander, the audience jumps to its feet and screams uproariously. Anakin fastens his eyes back on the battle.

Crix was shot right in the chest. He crumples. A wave of sand lifts from the ground and nearly covers him, like a blanket, hiding him, as if he were never there. Tiango takes a gleeful lap around the arena.

The audience is screaming far too loudly to hear anything from the announcer. The bench is shaking too much to remain a suitable armrest. Anakin stands up straight and stares ahead.

The pink legs that had framed Anakin's view now jump and move around with everyone else, obscuring the arena with cloaks and pants and boots. The other children in this hideaway start moving around, their own views also disrupted, trying to find better spots. Some of them move in front of Anakin. He lets them. He backs off further into the shade.

“Crix…” His initial shock starts to wear away, and he feels tears cross his parched face. “You were supposed to win! They all said you would!”

He had to lose eventually. No one can win every time. Mom told me he would lose, sooner or later. Everyone dies. It's okay.

It really doesn't feel okay. But this feels like podracing, too. Failing. Losing the game. He has been close to death himself a few times, especially when Sebulba is in the match.

He wipes his eyes and holds his fingers in his ears, which are popping from the terrifying decibel level of this audience. He squints his eyes and waits for the volume to settle and the people to sit back down.

What am I waiting for, though? They'll just continue with Tiango as the new champion. I don't want to watch that.

He makes a half-hearted attempt to get another good view, but one of the other children accidentally brushes up against him, and the feeling of being touched makes him deeply angry. He doesn’t trust these other kids. He doesn’t like them. They can’t understand. That wasn’t their friend who just died. It’s too loud here. And it isn’t going to get quiet. Not for a long time.

He worms out the crack in the arena wall and sees a truck that looks similar to the one he used to get here. He hides under the tarp again -- it is now empty inside. The truck jostles along, though it doesn't take exactly the same route back. It takes Anakin a little closer to home, but then it makes a turn he did not expect. He wonders if the truck will eventually come back around to the slave houses. He has no way of knowing. He fears it will wander out of range of his tracker-bomb. He jumps off the cart and walks the rest of the way home.

Chapter 10: Gafia Chumpi

[silverfootstepswrites]

Amaryllis | Chapter 24

<Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25>

++++

Karui tapped the pipe against the edge of the table. Ash fluttered down as the blue smoke rose up. She placed the tip in her mouth, leaning over to peek at the envelope.

“What is it, Grandfather?” she wondered, tilting her head to read the words.

Ebizo stroked his long beard.

“She is very much like her grandmother,” Ebizo murmured. He chuckled as he handed the letter over to Karui.

Karui’s fist rose to cover her mouth as she read through the contents of the letter. And then a laugh spurted out of her too.

“Oh, I wish I could see the expression on Prince Baki’s face. How terrible this is,” Karui sighed. She lowered the letter into her lap. “What will you do, Grandfather?”

Ebizo clucked his tongue. He held his hand out. With a guilty smile, Karui returned his pipe.

“The situation is actually quite straightforward. She’s made a reasonable request. And it will cost me very little to indulge her,” he mused.

“I thought she was just a military woman. I’m surprised to see such a cunning scheme from her,” Karui commented, looking down at the letter again. She blinked when Ebizo tapped his knuckles against the top of her head.

“Silly child. Do you think that branch of the family has survived so long in hostile lands simply by waving a sword around?” he scolded her. Karui rubbed her head, even though it hadn’t hurt at all. She blinked.

“I supposed not,” Karui said.

++++

Konohamaru swiveled his head around to check the alley behind him for what felt like the hundredth time. It hadn’t been easy to pin down a meeting with this person. And he wasn’t even certain if this was the person he needed to talk to.

Pulling his hood a little closer to his face, he ducked into the seedy little bar deep in the heart of the slums. Wary eyes fell on him when the door creaked. They followed him as he made his way to the bartender, an older woman with an eyepatch.

“Beat it if you don’t have any money, kid. This isn’t a charity,” the bartender grumbled.

But her visible eye widened when he pushed a golden coin across the counter towards her.

“I’d like to take some singing lessons,” he whispered. The bartender glared at him as she lifted the coin to her mouth. She bit down hard before she scrutinized the coin. And then she jerked her head for him to follow. Konohamaru looked around. When he couldn’t find a place to enter, he ducked under the bar to follow the woman past the wooden barrels of alcohol. To a small door in the back.

The bartender knocked in a peculiar pattern. There was a pause. And then a voice came from within.

“What?”

“You got a guest.”

“…Let the kid in.”

The bartender muttered something about being “full of herself”. She said nothing to Konohamaru as she hobbled her way back to the bar.

Konohamaru stared at the worn doorknob. He closed his hand around it and pushed. The door opened with little noise.

“You found the place alright. Not bad.”

It was just a dusty little room filled with barrels and shelves. There was a bed wedged into the corner, as if someone had squeezed it in last-minute. The woman sat at the foot of the bed. A lute case lay open behind her.

“You’re… the court musician,” Konohamaru said. But it was more of a question than anything.

Tenten leaned back on her palm, smiling. “Yeah.”

Konohamaru frowned. “How do I know I can trust you?”

It had been difficult to even find the musician in the first place. He knew there were messengers who ran for the General when she was in the capital. It had taken every moment of his spare time for a week to find one of them. And once he located the messenger, it had taken almost all of the money the General had given him to convince the man to point him in the direction of this tiny bar that didn’t even have a sign out front.

“A good question. And how do I know I can trust you, kid?” she wondered in return.

“I… I want to help the General,” he stated, a little helplessly. Because he had nothing else to support him. No documents, not that he could read anyway. No seal or ring to prove that he served someone more powerful than him.

Tenten tilted her head to the side as she appraised him.

“I’ve seen you tending the General’s horse. You really like her, don’t you?” she observed.

Konohamaru nodded.

“I owe the General. She picked me up when I was just some urchin who could sing. I’m not dumb enough to bite the hand that feeds,” Tenten then assured him. And then she sat up straight.

“So. What is this message you need to get to her?”

Konohamaru hesitated. And then he spoke. “Prince Naruto came to me in secret. He paid me to send word to Lieutenant General Inuzuka. I heard the Lieutenant General talk about how someone is shooting down… messenger birds? I don’t know why. But it has to do with the prince. And then he said he needed to send word quickly.”

Tenten scratched her arm as she took that in. “Well. Sounds like he’s going to tell the General, doesn’t it? Why come all the way here?” And then her hand stilled when she met Konohamaru’s eyes. He stared at her.

Tenten laughed. “Oh. You already know not to trust these people.” She tilted her head from side to side as she considered things. And then she got to her feet.

“Things are getting stale in the capital anyway. I might as well pay her a visit,” she decided.

Konohamaru fumbled when she suddenly reached inside her pocket and flicked him something. It was a silver coin.

“Thanks for the tip. But don’t give away this kind of stuff for free anymore. If you’ve got something I don’t have, you can profit in some way,” she advised him.

Tenten rode out of the city at dawn the next day. She joined up with a few merchants making their way up to Whitewave. She offered them a little coin to let her ride on the back of one of their wagons. She played songs to help pass the time. And by the time they arrived at the port city, the merchants were sad to see her go.

The city of Whitewave was run by Countess Inuzuka, an outspoken supporter of the General. The strong tie between the two women was reflected in their trade relations. The city was filled with exotic fruits and teas found nowhere else in the kingdom. It only took a day or so to find cheap passage to the Southern Tea Isle. In exchange, all Tenten had to do was play a few songs here and there to keep morale of the sailors up.

When Tenten arrived on the island, storm clouds hovered over the trees. She kept her head down and booked a room in one of the island’s more run-down taverns called The Sailor’s Rest. It wasn’t empty, but it also wasn’t crowded. As she climbed the stairs up to her room, Tenten noticed a few men occupying a table in the back. One of them eyed her in a sharp way, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. She made a note to herself not to linger too long here.

It almost didn’t surprise her when she realized that the General wasn’t here. It wasn’t like her to be quiet for so long. And she usually visited the mainland for a few months every year.

Tenten leaned against the bar in the Sailor’s Rest as she considered her options.

It was quite natural for most people to relay information to Admiral Haruno. The General’s cousin was well-known as her close confidante. Those who wished to curry favor with the General usually started with the Admiral first. But when she asked around, she found that the Admiral was quite busy. And with the General absent, there was no guarantee that any news would reach her quickly.

She tapped her fingers once. The bartender slid a tankard over to her. She nodded in his direction.

The man who had stared at her earlier was nowhere in sight. But at the same table was a huge, blue man. He offered her a smile, nodding before he turned his attention elsewhere. Tenten’s eyes narrowed when, a few minutes later, he made his way over to her.

“I’m not interested,” she stated before he could set his drink down.

The large man appraised her. Laughed.

“No offense. You’re an attractive woman. But that’s not it,” he replied. And then he offered his free hand.

Tenten stared at it. She considered swatting it away. She decided to shake it.

“Kisame Hoshigaki, handsome marauder and outlaw,” he introduced himself. And then he thought before he added, “Been working as the General’s security these days.”

She toyed with the idea of giving him a fake name. But she decided against it.

“Tenten.”

Leaning his elbow on the bar, Kisame jerked his chin toward her.

“You looking for her?” he questioned.

Tenten studied the man for a long moment. He was huge. The hand on his tankard made it look like a child’s cup. And that hand could easily bash her skull in. But then she had also noticed the way people who passed him greeted him with “Howzit, Big Blue” and “Hey there, brother”. Those sorts of greetings didn’t roll off the tongue overnight.

“Maybe,” Tenten responded.

She flinched back a little when the mercenary reached for his belt. He froze. Paused to give a pointed look, as if to reassure her. And then he rummaged around in the pouches on his belt until he produced a small gold ring. He could squeeze it onto his finger if he had to. But it was annoying to have anything on his hands, so he just carried it around on a gold chain instead. He handed the ring to her, keeping the chain looped around a couple of his fingers.

Tenten scrutinized the desert rose engraved into the gold.

“Never thought I’d see the day the General hired a mercenary,” she murmured. She handed the ring back to him.

Kisame flashed his pointy teeth.

“People keep saying that. It’s starting to hurt my feelings a little,” he replied.

Tenten glanced around the tavern. She tapped the bar a few times.

“Not here,” she declared. “Maybe the palace.”

Kisame snorted. “No.” He read the expression on her face and smiled again. “I know you want the palace because you want witnesses in case I try to kill you. But it’s not exactly the best place to exchange secrets right now,” he explained.

Tenten’s forehead wrinkled.

“The docks at dawn? The fishermen will be out then. Too far to eavesdrop. But close enough to see if either of us tries to stab the other,” Kisame suggested instead. He pointed at his chest, at the exact spot where Tenten had hidden a knife. She refused to give him the satisfaction of looking down at herself. It was a well-concealed weapon. This man was even more dangerous than he appeared if he could figure that out just from a short conversation like this one.

Tenten’s eyes narrowed as she held the mercenary’s gaze.

When she gave him a stiff nod, Kisame looked satisfied. He told the bartender to get her another drink on his tab before he walked away. Tenten left the drink untouched, slipping out of the tavern as quietly as possible.

At dawn, Tenten was already at the docks, concealed in the shadows of one of the stalls that had closed for the night. She could see the huge mercenary standing there, shifting his weight from foot to foot. There was another man standing some distance away. Just in case they were planning an ambush, she kicked at a rock, sending it skittering across the path. Both men turned toward the sound. She was too far away to hear, but she could see Kisame turn toward the other man to say something. The second man departed with a wave of his hand. She couldn’t tell whether the wave was for Kisame or for her.

“The General mentioned she had a musician wandering around the capital. That’s you?” he said in greeting when she finally joined him. She stood a good distance away, her arms folded across her chest.

“Where is she?” Tenten asked.

Kisame sighed. “If she didn’t tell you, I sure as hell won’t.”

Tenten clicked her tongue. She couldn’t help but approve a little. She tried not to show it in her face.

“Can you read?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Kisame answered.

She handed a note over to him. “Stableboy at Whiteriver Keep got wind of some strange happenings. Kid felt worried enough to come find me.”

Kisame unfolded the paper and read through the contents. His expression didn’t change. And when he finished reading, he tore up the paper and tossed it into the ocean.

“Lots of strangeness going around lately,” he grumbled.

Tenten stole a glance at the mercenary. At least he wasn’t asking stupid questions. She noticed a pebble at her feet. She nudged it into the water.

“Anything else?” he asked.

Tenten sniffed, unfolding and refolding her arms. “Don’t think so. I saw them bring more birds in. Lots of them. So seems like Little Namikaze isn’t lying about that, at least.”

Kisame paused mid-stretch as he took that in. Frowning, he turned to look at Tenten. She stared right back. Arching an eyebrow.

“They brought in more birds,” he repeated.

She nodded. “Crows from the north. Doves from the east. They do doves here don’t they?”

“So if they had to send more doves to Whiteriver, folks here would know…” mused Kisame, trying to put the pieces together.

Tenten didn’t quite follow his line of thinking. “Someone has to sign off. So… whoever’s in charge while the General’s gone, I guess.”

Kisame’s eyes narrowed. “Then there’s no way they wouldn’t notice something like this unless they were signing off with their eyes closed.”

Tenten’s arms dropped.

“Are you saying that-”

“She knows. The aunt knows and she hasn’t said anything,” Kisame declared, glaring out at the ocean now. He heaved a sigh, rubbing his hand across his forehead. “General’s not going to take this news well.”

Tenten’s eyes widened. “Lieutenant General Inuzuka said he would write to the Admiral about this,” she recalled.

“He won’t pass it to the General. That kid is right in his mother’s pocket. If the aunt isn’t telling her, then the cousin won’t either,” Kisame pointed out. Pressing his knuckles to his mouth, he continued staring out at the water. The sun was beginning to peer over the horizon now. The bottom of the black sky began to glow orange and red.

Tenten jolted a little when the mercenary’s eyes suddenly fell on her.

“This conversation didn’t happen,” he warned her.

Tenten smirked. “The General pays me too well for me to remember any of her secrets,” she assured him. But Kisame didn’t smile.

“I hope you forget this quick then.”

Tenten folded her arms again. “You really like her too, huh?” She glanced over him, noted the scars on his wrists.

“I’ve seen those before on slaves from the south. They had you in the fighting pits?” she observed.

Kisame rubbed his wrists. “Not for long,” he assured her. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to break through chains when you really want to bash someone’s head in.”

They stood there, staring out at the water for another moment.

++++

“I’m confused. So we’re not going home?” Kankuro wondered, hugging a pillow to his chest as he sat down. On the other side of the room, Gaara leaned against the lid of one of the trunks they had been filling with various clothes and souvenirs they had gathered during their time in the Viper’s Fang. All the gifts provided by Prince Baki had been placed in a separate pile. Kankuro kicked at some of the objects in that pile whenever he walked past.

“It all depends. But no. That’s not in the plan for now,” answered Sakura, leaning on her hand. She sorted through the letters she had spent the morning writing. Each one sealed with her ring. Temari had gone out to mail the first batch a little while ago. She would be back to send the others soon. Normally this was a task left for servants. But Sakura wanted to be sure that these letters made it to their destination quickly.

“What’s the atmosphere like in the palace, Meno?” asked Sakura.

Meno paused while folding one of Sakura’s robes for travel.

“Prince Baki is in meetings with his advisors much of the time. Consort Hoki interrogated the servants to identify which concubines aided Concubine Deba when she destroyed your property, General,” Meno reported.

“Any word on their punishment?”

“No, General. For now, Concubine Deba had the servants and guards confiscate their possessions to be appraised,” added Meno.

“For what?” Kankuro scoffed, stretching out onto his back and staring up at the gilded ceiling. “They destroyed something priceless. That’s like trying to fill up a bottomless pit with gold.”

“I suppose it’s more of a gesture. Shijima’s trying to show that she’s taking this situation seriously,” Sakura guessed. And then she smiled a little. “She really is a smart girl. It’s a shame that that’s gone unrecognized for so long in this place.”

Since Sakura was “furious”, it made no sense for Shijima to wander in and out of her quarters anymore. And while she wasn’t lonely with her cousins beside her, Sakura worried about Shijima. With the huge upset in the power structure of the harem, all Shijima would have to do is seize control. With Prince Baki in a foul mood, not many of the concubines would be brave enough to try any underhanded tactics for a little while. Still, Sakura knew how daunting it could be to do something like this. She hoped that the few allies Shijima had made in the harem were serving her well now.

As Shijima seized control of the harem from within, Sakura’s letters spread to all the cities with relationships to the Haruno family. Of course Princess Mei would be one of the first to receive word of the great offense Prince Baki and his wives had struck against her. Sakura was aware that Mei’s relationship with Baki was all about business. When forced to choose between Baki and the Haruno family, Mei was certain to choose the Haruno’s. It wasn’t just about distant family relations. It was about profit as well. Baki controlled some trade routes to the east. But the Haruno family’s access to gold and marble, as well as their vast network of connections to other cities in the Arids made them a better investment.

An added bonus was that Shijima had expressed discomfort at the relationship between Mei and Baki. Mei had mentioned once that she had a son by Baki, which ensured that he would never raise a hand against her city. After all, what kind of father would try to harm his own son? Mei was adamant that she had no other interest in the man. But if it bothered Shijima, then this was one way to solve the problem.

The other cities would face a similar dilemma. If the Haruno family was cutting ties with the Viper’s Fang, what would they do?

The Haruno family had spent generations marrying its children into the various cities surrounding them. And because blood must always be honored, there would be very few in their right mind who would choose to turn their back on a Haruno.

Baki was likely meeting with his advisors, who would push him to try to salvage the relationship with Prince Ebizo’s grand-niece before it was too late. But Baki’s pride would prove a stumbling block, just as she had predicted would happen.

It didn’t take long for messengers to begin pouring into the Viper’s Throat. They carried letters with seals of all different colors and patterns.

Prince Byakuren apologized for the conduct of Concubine Toge, one of Deba’s strongest supporters. Her father had been removed from his position as ambassador and was reflecting on his failure to raise a good daughter. Byakuren sent along jewels, as well as a written vow that he would always remain an ally of the Haruno family.

Prince Ibushi to the southwest disavowed Prince Baki for his lack of respect for traditions. He expressed mortification that he had ever shared a meal with such a man. He explained that the Viper’s Fang would no long be welcome to conduct trade through their port city.

Sakura recalled a battle a few years ago. It was towards the end of the war with Sound Country. With winter closing in, bringing with it the promise of frostbite, Shikamaru had proposed a plan that had sounded impossible at the time.

Rather than attack the main garrison of enemy troops, he had proposed ambushing the cities and roads that provided supplies. It had been a risky maneuver. But they had divided their remaining soldiers and disrupted Sound Country’s supply lines. That was how they had taken one of the biggest fortresses in the country and turned the tides of war in their favor.

Politics was like war in many ways. Maybe people did a little less stabbing, but the outcome was the same. Some people lived. Others died. And all it took was one mistake to break whatever careful balance there was.

There were, of course, some cities who remained silent. None of them would be foolish enough to criticize Sakura outright. But pressure from the surrounding cities would be enough to change their minds in time.

When word came from Karo a few days later, Sakura had to read the letter twice. Just to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood.

Prince Ebizo was disappointed to learn that Prince Baki was not the wise man that rumors suggested. Ebizo urged Sakura to return to Karo and not to suffer discomfort for an instant longer than necessary. He also mentioned that with the souring of this relationship, naturally Sakura could not accept the troops Baki had promised.

“What? But you need those soldiers, don’t you, Lady Sakura?” Temari read over her shoulder.

Sakura sighed as she tried to piece together what Ebizo meant.

“I think… I think that Great-Uncle is suggesting that if I were to refuse those troops… it would be another blow to Prince Baki’s reputation. Because he would be unable to honor a promise he made to me,” Sakura guessed.

“That is a very serious issue here. It might ruin him completely,” Kankuro agreed, looking a little too happy about the prospect.

There was one letter that arrived that put a damper on things.

It was from the city of Solace. To the north. Where Mei’s stepbrother Ao ruled.

Prince Ao sent his regrets at the misfortune that had befallen her. But due to the poor harvest in the north this year, he was unable to cut ties with Prince Baki. He reminded Sakura of how Baki was technically a cousin to her, and suggested that she try to find forgiveness in her heart, which was the mark of a good ruler.

“He must be out of his mind. He’s being deliberately disrespectful,” Kankuro complained.

Sakura tossed the letter on the table with a noise of disgust.

“Well… that was unpleasant,” she remarked.

“Why did you stop, Lady Sakura? There’s more,” Gaara wondered, reaching for the later. He turned pale as he read the final paragraph that Sakura had omitted. Temari grasped his shoulder to steady him.

“What is it?” demanded Kankuro. He grabbed Gaara’s arm to bring the letter closer to him.

“…Father’s in Solace,” Kankuro realized as he read.

“I wonder what he’s said about Lady Sakura. And about us. No wonder Prince Ao seems less than fond of us,” Temari said, her face grim. She moved to put her arm around Gaara’s shoulders instead.

“I’ll inform Great-Uncle. Perhaps there’s something he can do to chastise that man,” muttered Sakura, already thinking of what to write. When she looked up, biting the tip of her thumb, she spotted Gaara’s panicked expression. Her face softened.

She reached across the table to grasp Gaara’s hand. Her eyes were still unfocused. But he squeezed back.

“He’s far from you. He can’t hurt you,” she assured him. Gaara nodded. But he didn’t look convinced.

Along with Ebizo’s letter came an envoy who bowed deeply.

“Since your needs are not being met here, His Highness has commanded me to find housing for you in the city until safe passage to Karo can be arranged,” he reported.

Sakura gazed past the man, to Meno dusting in the corner. When Sakura met her eyes, Meno turned to glance at the door. Then looked back to her. Sakura nodded. She watched Meno gather some dirty linens in a basket before she made her way out. Hopefully the rumor would spread through the palace quickly.

Returning her gaze to the envoy, Sakura smiled.

“I’ll trust your judgment. Please inform my Great-Uncle that I am thankful for his care and kindness,” answered Sakura. The envoy nodded, bowing once again.

That night, Azra and Esma cleared away the bowls and cups from their evening meal.

Sakura had stopped dining with Prince Baki for obvious reasons. She even refused food from the palace’s kitchen. Instead, she sent the twins out to buy food from the market each day. They always returned with grilled meats and fresh bread. They tried to find something new, although Sakura assured them that she wasn’t so picky. When they counted out the change, Sakura pushed it back into their hands.

“Would you like tea? Some more wine?” Azra asked.

“No. You haven’t had a chance to eat yet, have you? Go,” Sakura urged, sending the girls out with impatient pushing motions. The twins smiled as they lifted the trays and made their way out of the room.

Heaving a sigh, Sakura leaned her head back on the couch. Her cousins were out for a walk to help them digest the heavy meal. Their company was nice. It would have been difficult to be away from home for so long if not for them. But a moment of silence was also something she looked forward to every now and then.

She heard the door open.

“What is it?”

“The security of this place is really terrible,” Suigetsu complained, not for the first time, lowering his hood. He crossed the room to hand over a folded piece of paper. And then he helped himself to rest of her wine.

It was a message from Shijima. Thanks to that lax security, Suigetsu and Mangetsu were able to slip in and out of the harem to deliver notes like this one.

“Listen to this,” Sakura said as she read. Suigetsu turned to her, still gulping.

“Prince Baki has been in a foul temper these days. He summoned me, demanding to know how to ‘fix that woman’s mood’. I appeared, shed some tears, and insisted that I was trying my best. I’m beginning to think that you might be right. He is not a bad man, but not very clever.”

Suigetsu choked on the wine. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he coughed and laughed at the same time.

“She sounds like you,” he pointed out, thumping his fist against his chest.

Sakura skimmed over the rest of the message. She crumpled it into her palm to burn later.

“M’Lady,” Suigetsu called, suddenly serious. Her eyes fell on him.

“Have you gotten any sleep?”

The nightmares had crept up on her. It was so sudden that she had almost felt bewildered by their return. But once they settled back into her skull, it was like they had never left in the first place.

She knew that it was stress. The unfamiliar environment. And even as she dreamt, she was frustrated by her lack of control over her own mind.

Swords dripped blood onto rotting corpses. And everywhere she roamed, whether it was on charred battlefields or barren cities, she could hear sobbing. As constant as the chorus of crickets during the summer.  

She jerked awake in the darkness, her heart racing. And if there was someone else in the room, her mind automatically screamed ‘enemy’ without giving the rest of her a chance to catch up. Temari nearly went blind one night when she burst into the room, hearing strange noises. Luckily, the dagger missed and hit the door instead. From that point on, Sakura laid down a strict rule that no one was to disturb her at night.

Mangetsu broke the rule. A lot.

When Sakura woke shouting about someone bleeding out. Ordering someone to put pressure on the wound, because soon the number of corpses would outnumber the living who had to carry them. Sweat drenched her shirt and her hair. And she whipped around as she heard a sound at the window. Mangetsu had opened it from the outside. He pocketed his knife that he had used to wedge the lock open.

“Sleep. I’ll just sit here,” he said, settling in a chair in the corner of the room.

She was too exhausted for anger. She wiped her hand across her forehead.

“What?”

“I’ll just be here. Go back to sleep, M’Lady,” Mangetsu repeated. He idly flicked a bit of sand off his clothes. And when Sakura glared at him, Mangetsu pointed toward the door, where Suigetsu was probably standing watch.

“Has the same thing. It’s better when someone’s in the room with him. I figured I could do the same for you,” the mercenary explained.

Sakura considered throwing him out. But she had spent enough time with Mangetsu and Suigetsu. If she removed him, he would find another way back in. It wasn’t worth arguing with him about this.

It was easier than she thought to fall asleep with him watching her from the corner of the room. Maybe because she was used to him walking past the room at night on his patrols. She had never asked either of the brothers to watch her room so closely. And she had never asked them to confront the palace guards who spoke ill of her. Neither of them had mentioned the latter to her. It was only because Meno and the twins had whispered it to her during a rare moment when both of the mercenaries were out of the room. The rumors were likely exaggerated. But Sakura was confident that it was true that Suigetsu had taken down a guard twice his size. She was less confident that the guard had burst into tears.

She slept a little. It wasn’t perfect. She still jerked awake a few times. But the haunting wails that pierced her ears were a little easier to ignore when in her half-woken daze, she heard a soft sigh and “It’s not real. Try to sleep some more”.

In the morning, when she crawled out of bed, the chair in the corner was empty. And Mangetsu said nothing to her about where he had spent his night, as if it had never happened in the first place.

As Shijima had mentioned in her note, she was kneeling in front of the doors that led to the northern wing of the palace. When the doors opened up, Sakura hesitated. As if surprised to see Shijima sitting there. And then she resumed speaking to Temari as she walked right past the consort. Kankuro and Gaara stared at Shijima. They exchanged looks and then watched Sakura continue down the hall.

“Sorry,” Gaara whispered before they hurried to catch up to Sakura.

“I know what she’s doing. Suddenly extending an olive branch will only undermine her at this point,” Sakura assured Temari once they were out of the palace. She adjusted the shawl that covered her hair.

They didn’t actually have much business in the city. However, it was important that Prince Baki think that they did. They checked the post station to see if any messengers had arrived with news from out west. They relaxed at the bathhouse, ate street foot standing in the shade of a tall building, and then visited a few vendors to browse the shiny wares they had on sale.

By the time they returned to the Viper’s Fang, night had fallen. And Shijima was still kneeling in front of those double doors.

Sakura ignored her again as she swept past.

“Have one of the girls pour some of that wine we purchased. The day has been hot and I’m quite thirsty,” Sakura remarked.

Temari glanced at Shijima. But her steps didn’t falter as she continued after Sakura.

“Of course, Lady Sakura,” Temari replied.

In the morning, Suigetsu tapped on the door to Sakura’s room. Just enough to wake her that she didn’t draw a weapon on him when he stepped inside.

“You know that she’s still out there,” he said, without greeting. He glanced at the empty chair in the corner. Mangetsu had slipped out a little while ago. Suigetsu seemed to know of the arrangement. But like his brother, he made no comment about it.

“Who?” asked Sakura, raking her hands through her tangled hair.

“Shij- The Consort. Whatever.”

Sakura’s hands froze.

“You mean that she’s returned this morning?”

“No. She went somewhere for a few minutes during the night. But then she came right back. Probably went to the…” Suigetsu trailed off and Sakura caught his meaning. Her hands dropped into her lap.

“So she’s been there a full day? Without eating?”

Suigetsu rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. “I mean, I haven’t seen anything. Maybe she snuck in a meal during those few minutes? I wouldn’t put it past you nobles. You’re all kind of crazy,” he answered.

Sakura closed her eyes, thinking. She exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. She reached her arm for something, pointing. Suigetsu followed the line of her arm until he spotted her robe draped over the back of her chair. A year ago, he would have balked at the thought of being ordered around like this.

Snickering a little at himself, Suigetsu plucked the robe off the chair and draped it over Sakura’s shoulders. She pulled her arms through without thanks. She opened her eyes. They were bloodshot and a little puffy. When Suigetsu pointed to them, Sakura swatted his finger away. She pressed the backs of her hands to her eyelids. Suigetsu’s smile faded as he examined her face.

“What’s the reason why you don’t want to sleep?” he suddenly wondered.

She lowered her hands a little. “What do you mean?”

“Are you scared of your dreams? You know they can’t hurt you,” Suigetsu told her. While he was smiling, it wasn’t a mocking expression. Sakura held his gaze for an extra moment, lowering her hands all the way now.

“No. I’m scared of who I am inside them,” she answered.

Suigetsu was quiet. He nodded.

“Better scared than dead,” he pointed out before he stepped out of the room.

Shijima raised her head when the double doors rumbled open. Sakura took a step out, arms folded across her chest. Her hair was loose. She was still in her nightgown with just a robe thrown on top.

“What is the meaning of this?” demanded Sakura without greeting.

Shijima lowered her head again.

Shijima had informed her in a short message that she would be putting on some sort of scene. Sakura hadn’t realized that she would push her body so far.

“Please don’t leave, General. I realize that you are rightfully upset. But please reconsider,” Shijima requested, staring at the floor.

“And you think this will change my mind somehow? Kneeling here?”

There were bound to be guards or servants hiding somewhere nearby. Sakura kept her tone cold, her gaze sharp.

“It seems you intend to starve yourself on my doorstep. You must not realize that someone like me is quite familiar with death. Do as you please,” Sakura stated before she slipped back inside. The doors slamming shut behind her.

Sakura walked past Shijima again on her way out into the city. When she returned in the evening, Shijima still knelt there, her face haggard. Sakura didn’t speak to her. Safely inside her room, Sakura turned to Gaara. She put her hands on his shoulders.

“You’ve always been friendly with her, so it will be less suspicious. Sneak outside later and bring the poor girl something to eat. And some water,” Sakura instructed. Gaara nodded. He cast a look of concern toward the door.

But when Gaara returned, he shook his head.

“She refused.”

Sakura sat down. She clenched her jaw. Lifting her fist to her mouth, she pressed her knuckles to her lips.

“She’ll hurt herself,” Temari worried too.

“She must have a plan. She’s not that stupid is she?” Kankuro leaned his elbow on the back of the couch as he spoke.

“She must. But…” Sakura trailed off. She looked up when Gaara crossed the room. He sat at her feet, grasping her free hand.

“We should trust her. She must know what she’s doing,” Gaara urged. She looked down at his face. When had he grown up so much? It took a moment. But a faint smile appeared on her face. She pulled her hand free of his to pat his cheek.

“Yes. I suppose so,” she agreed.

That night, Sakura slept even more fitfully than usual. She was startled awake by someone yelling her name too close to her. Her eyes flew open to find Mangetsu’s face above her. She moved to push him away, but her arm jerked to a stop. It took her a moment to take in the situation.

Mangetsu’s hands gripped her wrists, holding them above her head. And before she could rebuke him, she felt the shape and weight of a knife in her hand. In both of them, actually. She slowly relaxed her fingers and wrists. Let the blades fall harmlessly onto the bed. Mangetsu stared her right in the eyes. Whatever he read there seemed like enough. He let out a sigh of relief as he released her. Sakura flexed her hands, rubbing her reddened wrists. They would probably bruise.

“Sorry. You woke swinging knives and I had to,” he muttered, taking a few steps back.

Sakura nodded. She tried to calm her shallow breaths as she sat up. She turned her head away from him, fist pressed to her forehead. It was mortifying enough for someone to witness this. Somehow his lack of judgment made it all the more embarrassing.

The door opened.

“You don’t look like you’re going back to sleep this time.”

“So you’re both just walking in and out as you wish now,” Sakura growled as she recognized Suigetsu’s voice.

“Come on, M’Lady. Let me show you something nice,” Suigetsu said, ignoring her glare. He picked up her falchion propped up in the corner by the bed.

“What nonsense are you saying in the middle of the night?” she sighed. “Put my sword back.”

Suigetsu’s tone changed. He was serious now. “M’Lady.” He waited until she was looking at him properly. “I don’t know a lot of things. But this… I know this.”

So Sakura followed Suigetsu outside, into the courtyard. Mangetsu trailed after them, an odd smile on his lips, as if he were in on some kind of joke.

He tossed Sakura her falchion. She kept it in the scabbard, regarding Suigetsu with suspicion. Suigetsu wielded his own weapon. And then he reached out toward his brother. Mangetsu unsheathed his sword and handed it over to Suigetsu with a pointed look.

Looking insulted, Suigetsu grumbled, “I’ll be careful. I’ve only dropped it once…. twice.”

And then he turned to Sakura with a grin.

“I’ve seen you fight before. With all those fancy twirls. It’s stupid.”

Suigetsu was brutal. He lunged and slashed in the moments when she felt most vulnerable. And just when she felt like she might be able to catch her breath, he was attacking again. There was no question that Suigetsu’s fighting style was unrefined and nonsensical at times. But it was something that was born out of necessity, not flair. So what it lacked in showmanship it more than made up in efficiency. She managed to get in some good maneuvers here in there, but by the end of the round, she felt somewhat like a fox being chased down by a pack of particularly tenacious hounds.

“Sometimes…”  Suigetsu suddenly said, “It feels nice to just do something… and not to think. It helps.” He held his hand out to her.

Sakura searched his face. And then she almost smiled as she grasped his hand, letting him pull her up.

“I know what you mean,” she replied.

She washed up and fell back into bed for the little time left until dawn. She closed her eyes, still a little afraid to sleep. But exhaustion made it difficult for her to fight sleep for long. And mercifully, when she succumbed, it was to a dark, dreamless sleep. Kind and quiet like the bottom of the ocean.

A few hours later, Sakura was out of her bed. She opened up the doors to the north wing of the palace. Shijima still knelt there. Her movements were sluggish as she lifted her head. Sakura took a few steps forward. Stopped in front of her. And then she knelt, leaning in close.

“You’re not waiting for me, are you?” Sakura whispered.

Shijima glanced around. And then she offered Sakura a tiny, secretive smile.

Sakura lifted her head a little. She pulled a wineskin out of her cloak and tossed it in front of Shijima.

“Drink. Or I really will leave today,” Sakura ordered.

Shijima opened the cap and took a sip of the water. And then she another. Soon, she was gulping down every last drop in the container. When she looked up to Sakura, wiping her chin on the back of her hand, Sakura was holding out an orange.

“You must realize that this is ridiculous, Consort Hoki,” Sakura chastised as she watched Shijima peel the orange. But her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t do it. Clucking her tongue, Sakura reached out to peel the fruit for her. She handed the segments to Shijima and watched her eat.

“What will happen if you leave this way? Doesn’t that doom this city?” Shijima worried, chewing as she spoke.

Cheek in her hand, Sakura tilted her head as she thought.

“Doom is a strong word.”

Shijima looked relieved.

“But not wholly inaccurate.”

Shijima looked even more concerned than before.

“His contacts to the east will continue to deal with him. Largely because of you, actually. You do know that marrying you has made that man richer than he could have ever hoped?” Sakura pointed out. And though she had mentioned this to Shijima before, perhaps the wording struck a chord within her. Because Shijima’s eyes widened.

“His standing out here will certainly change, however. I’ve persuaded my Great-Uncle not to declare war, which is a good thing. Great-Uncle hates conflict, but his heir doesn’t,” Sakura went on. Her eyes darted to the presence she had noticed hiding further down the corridor. The servant girl ducked behind the column, likely praying that Sakura hadn’t spotted her.

“I’ll tell you something good because I personally like you, Consort Hoki. The Arids have been peaceful for so long for two reasons,” Sakura said, holding two fingers up. “The first is that the major cities have intermarried so much that there are few of us who cannot call each other ‘cousin’. And second is that most of the cities here are of similar standing. Or they are allied with someone who can protect them. It’s usually the weakest in a pack that gets swallowed by predators, after all.”

Sakura could see the words settling into Shijima’s head. The girl turned pale.

“So if The Viper’s Throat falls-” Shijima whispered.

“Predators will fall on it like vultures on carrion,” Sakura finished the thought for her.

This wasn’t something she had gone over with Shijima beforehand. She hadn’t wanted this reaction to feel rehearsed in any way. And perhaps it was a little cruel. Sakura wouldn’t abandon Shijima in the middle of such a risky affair, but the girl had no way of knowing that. They had only known each other for a short time.

With the consequences hanging over her head, Shijima would be pushed to be think a little harder and to speak with more conviction. And from the way that the servant girl went sprinting down the hall, perhaps Baki would realize just how badly things could go if he continued to cling to his pride.

“You can kneel here for as long as you wish, Consort. But I am returning to my Great-Uncle’s city in a week’s time. As soon as all my affairs are put into order. And you can continue to kneel here once I’m gone for all I care,” Sakura concluded, rising to her full height. As the double doors closed, Sakura turned around to look at Shijima. She offered her a glimpse of a smile before the doors separated them again. She hoped that the girl would be smart enough to put together a good strategy. Sakura had set her up with some strong pieces, but there was only so much she could do from behind for her.

Later that morning, Azra and Esma whispered to Sakura that there was some sort of commotion. They guided her by the hand to a secret passage hidden behind a large urn. She had always felt suspicious of the placement of the ostentatious decoration. But she was thankful for it now when the twins guided her into the narrow space. It led them an oddly-shaped space. When Azra pointed to a set of tiny holes, Sakura was confused. Esma mimed cupping her hands around one ear. So Sakura leaned in closer, pressing her ear against the holes.

“I’ve had enough of this spectacle. Get up this instant, Consort Hoki.”

It was Prince Baki’s voice.

When Sakura looked to the twins, Azra nodded furiously. Sakura pointed at the other holes on the wall. She motioned for the girls to join her. Eyes glittering, they squished in with her to listen in on the conversation.

“I will kneel here for as long as it takes for the General to quell her anger, My Lord,” Shijima replied. Sakura smiled at how confident Shijima sounded.

“Forget that woman. She’ll be leaving soon. You should be thinking of how this affects my reputation,” Baki grumbled.

Sakura scoffed. So did Esma.

“I am thinking of your reputation, My Lord. If relations with the Haruno family truly remain this way, it will affect every part of your reputation. Surely you realize this.”

“Do not nag me, Consort Hoki. Don’t think as if you know everything just because you’ve spent some time with that woman.”

Sakura shook her head. She had no idea what Shijima saw in that bull-headed man. She had asked Shijima on multiple occasions whether this was the path she really wanted to choose. It would be a simple affair to have them divorce and to bring Shijima with her to Plumeria. They had no children, so the divorce could be on the basis that they had failed to produce a legitimate heir. One of Baki’s many concubines could be promoted to Consort instead. She would do well in the tropical climate. And there were so many nice young men she could introduce her to. Ones that would surely be head over heels for her. Unlike a certain stubborn fool.

“Maybe I should be nagging you. You haven’t handled things very well with my silence.”

That snapped Sakura right back to attention. Azra grabbed Esma’s hand, eyes wide.

“What was that?”

“You’ve never seen me as your consort. You allow your concubines to harass me. You exclude me from social events when I should be by your side. And all this time, I’ve held my tongue because I trusted that my lord husband would know what he was doing.”

Azra’s mouth fell open.

Sakura grimaced to herself. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the expression on Baki’s face. That was a bold criticism to unleash on anyone.

“I’m no longer a child. And you’re not the man I thought you were. I suppose it’s time for the both of us to face reality.”

Esma slapped her hands over Azra’s mouth. Sakura covered her own mouth with her hand. They waited for something else. But it was silent.

Just as Sakura began to worry that she might have to intervene, she heard noises again.

“Come with me,” Baki growled. And then footsteps began retreating across the stone. Hurried and sharp.

The following morning, Shijima arrived at the northern wing of the Viper’s Fang. Meno opened the door, bowed, and then disappeared to go inform Sakura of the visitor.

Sakura leaned against the inside of the door, staring out at Shijima. Because Shijima was rosy-faced and practically glowing with satisfaction. Sakura appraised her, sighed.

“What is it?” she demanded, still aware of the eyes all around the palace.

“I have a proposition from my lord husband,” Shijima announced.

Sakura folded her arms across her chest. “And where is this… lord husband of yours during such an important discussion?” she wondered.

Shijima gave an impish smile. “Still asleep. My lord is quite tired from… a long night,” she admitted, lowering her voice. Sakura had to fight the urge to smile right back. She turned on her heel instead.

“Come inside quickly. Don’t waste my time,” she retorted. The doors closed behind Shijima as she followed after her.

But as soon as the doors were gone, and Mangetsu confirmed that no one else was around, Sakura threw her arms around Shijima.

“Oh, well done, love. You’ve worked so hard,” Sakura said, her voice warm now.

And although Shijima had been smiling, the instant she heard those words, she burst into tears. Clinging on to the back of Sakura’s dress, she sobbed about how frightened she had been. How difficult it was to watch everyone who had once been so warm to her to act so cold now. Even if it was all just a show. Azra and Esma sniffled too as they set an extra place for Shijima at the breakfast table.

Teary-eyed and runny-nosed, Shijima took a sip of the tea they offered to her. She had cried even harder when Temari had rushed out in her nightgown to hug her too, starting the hysterics anew.

“Now. Eat something. You must be starving,” Sakura urged. Before she could move her hands, Gaara was already piling fruits and bread onto her plate. Kankuro refilled her teacup and added a bit of sugar.

“I… ate last night… with His Majesty,” she confessed, her eyes falling to the table.

“Is that all you did? Eat?” Kankuro probed.

Shijima erupted scarlet. Temari reached over to slap her brother on the arm while Sakura chuckled.

“So this is what you meant when you told me you learned things before you came here,” Sakura teased. Hands on her cheeks, Shijima peeked up at her. When she nodded, Kankuro burst out laughing. He fell against Gaara’s shoulder. Gaara had his face turned away to be polite, but from the way his shoulder’s shook, it was easy to see that he was laughing too.

“Mother told me many stories. I’d never… but I knew… so…”

As Shijima grew an even brighter shade of red, Kankuro took a sip of tea.

“Father had 8 concubines, so Mother had to be good at maintaining a household.”

Kankuro spat his tea out. And Sakura couldn’t even chastise him for his poor table manners because she was too busy coughing and choking on her tea too.

As it turned out, one of the skills Shijima’s mother had instilled in her was the art of good pillow talk. Whatever had transpired during the night had left Prince Baki quite open to suggestions. Shijima wormed her way into his thoughts, suggesting this and gently steering him away from that. While Shijima had struggled with dealing with other women, apparently she had little trouble with the opposite sex.

“So I suggested that all you really wanted was a fair punishment for Concubine Deba. And that if you were appeased, all the relations and diplomacy would go back to normal,” Shijima explained.

“What is ‘fair’ in your eyes then?” asked Sakura.

“Well… I knew Prince Baki wouldn’t want to execute Concubine Deba and her son. After all, that’s his son too. So I suggested stripping the son of his title and sending Concubine Deba away instead.”

Sakura nodded, examining the healing cuts on the back of her hand. “Why not send her to work for my Great-Uncle? Labor for her debts?”

“What about the other concubines? The ones that helped Deba?” prompted Temari.

“The same treatment. Prince Baki was hesitant at first. But then I assured him that our son would be the best successor,” Shijima said, placing her hand on her stomach.

“There’s no way of knowing that you are already…” Kankuro trailed off, miming a rounded stomach with his hands.

“No. But… we have time. It will happen eventually. The women of my family are very fertile,” Shijima answered with confidence. “I also suggested that since I’d appraised the value of the goods I confiscated from the harem, that we could send them to the Haruno family as a gesture of apology and goodwill. It would cost Prince Baki no additional money and it would help smooth things over for now. Just like you said, General.”

Sakura nodded, her coughing finally under control.  

Gaara handed over her tea to help clear her throat. Sakura took a sip before she spoke again.

“You do realize that by not killing his sons you’re leaving a threat for the future,” Sakura warned, not for the first time.

Shijima nodded. “I don’t want to do it. It doesn’t feel right. Even if it means they’ll come back to challenge me. I’ll just have to work a little harder.”

Sakura looked down at her tea. She set it to the side. “I don’t know if it’s the right choice, but you’ve made it. And I respect that,” she admitted.

They went over some more details together. Sakura would send out a letter to Karo in a few more days outlining Shijima’s compromise. Another one would reach Hilal as well. From there, the rumors would spread. And Sakura would make every effort to ensure that Consort Hoki’s name was attached to the story.

Prince Baki was not a complicated man. Whatever Shijima’s mother had taught her was obviously effective against him. As the days went by, he was rarely seen without Shijima at his side. And when the concubines saw how much the prince favored the consort now, there was a mad scramble to try to get into her good graces. The servants as well were quick to change their allegiances.

With some persuasion on Shijima’s part, Prince Baki even apologized for the delay in handling such a terrible insult against her. It was interesting how much his gaze had changed in a matter of days. No longer were his stares directed at her. In fact, it seemed he was having trouble looking anywhere but at Shijima, which Sakura welcomed. And hanging on Baki’s arm, Shijima looked so happy that Sakura couldn’t find it in her to criticize the man too much.

“It’s quite alright. It’s all thanks to Consort Hoki that things were resolved so quickly,” Sakura commended instead.

And Baki looked over at Shijima to smile.

“Yes. She’s wise, isn’t she?” he answered.

But as Sakura prepared to move on to their next stop, the eastern kingdoms to the east of the Viper’s Throat, Sakura received a letter from Ebizo.

My dear,

I know it was your intention to visit the Qing Kingdom, but I must ask you to journey north instead.

Rasa’s influence over Prince Ao has become concerning for all of us. He has refused summons to return back to Karo. I would send troops there myself, but Prince Ao may see that as an act of aggression. Instead, I must request that you visit the city for yourself and handle Rasa as you see fit. He ceased to serve a purpose for us when you had him removed for your employ. You have dealt with the man for much longer than I have, so I will trust whatever judgment you pass.

Sakura burned the letter as quickly as she could.

When she read between the lines, she could see what her great-uncle was asking. If she found it necessary, she could eliminate Rasa completely. And that wasn’t something she wanted Temari and her siblings to have to confront.

Instead, she put on a smile as she informed her cousins that there was to be a change of plans. Kankuro was a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t get a chance to see the markets in the east. There were rumors of grand festivals that he had been looking forward to taking part in. And when Sakura revealed that they would be moving north instead, Gaara said nothing. His expression was tight though. Temari grabbed his hand. She motioned for Kankuro, who moved to grasp Gaara’s other hand.

“You can return to Karo first if you’d prefer. It should be a quick trip,” Sakura offered.

Heads close together, the siblings exchanged a few quiet words. Temari frowned as Gaara shook his head.

“We will be with you, Lady Sakura,” Gaara promised.

Sakura sent word ahead of her. Although she hadn’t actually been invited, Ao would have no choice but to open his arms to her if he didn’t want to suffer some sort of criticism from neighboring cities.

As they prepared the luggage and the gifts for their reluctant hosts, Baki invited Sakura to visit the barracks in the city with him. Kankuro and Temari were busy overseeing preparations, but Gaara was free to accompany her. He held her hand as they walked through the busy city. Mangetsu trailed a little ways behind them.

When they arrived at the barracks, they appeared to be running through drills. Sakura recognized the setup. Men lined up in a formation. A single man in front barking orders.

As Baki stepped onto the field, they stopped. The man in front was tall with shaggy white hair. He stood at attention, saluting as Baki approached him. He yelled an order. All the soldiers saluted in unison.

Smiling, Baki extended an arm to gesture towards the men.

“Your regiment, as promised, General,” he announced.

Sakura released Gaara’s hand. She crossed her arms behind her back as she turned her gaze to the men. “How many in total?”

“5000, as promised. And this is Commander Darui. My best,” Baki replied.

Sakura arched an eyebrow. “You’re giving away your best? Let’s not tell each other lies, Prince Baki,” Sakura retorted.

Baki’s smile faded a little. But he tried to reclaim the expression, laughing.

“Alright, you’ve caught me there. But Commander Darui is certainly one of the best. He will not fail you. And he speaks the language of the west, so you should have no discomfort communicating with him.”

Sakura looked Darui over. He kept his gaze on her feet.

“Do you have a problem serving under a woman?” she queried.

“No, Ma’am,” came his prompt reply.

“We’re going far from here. You will not return to these lands. Are you still willing?” she pressed.

He saluted. “I will follow you wherever, General. It is an honor.”

Sakura scrutinized his face. And then she laughed a little. “What an insincere reply. Well, you have some time to change your mind if necessary.”

Then she turned to face the soldiers still in formation.

“My travels will take me far from this land. If any of you are unwilling to follow me, be it family or an aversion to reporting to a woman, then I will not force you on this journey. We depart in a week. If you choose not to follow me, there will be no consequences. Take some time to make your decision,” she announced before clapping her hands once.

Without waiting for any input from the two men, Sakura began walking away from the barracks. Gaara hurried after her. But Mangetsu was already at her side, leaning in towards her to whisper.

“You shouldn’t have been so easy-going, M’Lady. You’ll lose some of them.”

Sakura leveled him with a look. As if she couldn’t believe his line of thinking.

“Good,” she replied, “I need troops to become my hands and feet, not a burden. I would rather leave any whining children behind.”

Mangetsu snickered, shaking his head a little.

“Then why are you bringing Suigetsu?” Gaara asked, grabbing onto Sakura’s sleeve as he finally caught up.

Mangetsu laughed even louder. And Sakura smiled too as they made their way onto the bustling city streets.

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<Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25>