#or more like they are A) still on the clock working at the Elven Palace and B) can smell your emotional baggage from here; my sweet baby boy

[newtafterdark]

POV the resident Tiefling (who used to be a massive playboy & wrestler just 5 years ago) has to face the reality that he has absolutely lost all of his previous rizz. 😔

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Silvans are Nocturnal

No but seriously though, considering that the elves of Beriland very much did not have any form of light other than the stars until the sun came up, they probably feel more at home in the darkness of the night and this continues to be the way the silvans opperate through the ages. It helps that ultimately they do not interact that much with other elven realms so it’s not as if they need to change to accommodate them.

Furthermore, elves can stay awake days at a time, so when the silvans do need to interact with outsiders they can simply stay awake during the day when needed and leave no one the wiser.

A more tactical reason for the nocturnalness is that the enemy, the darkness is more active during the night and less during the day, so it’s safer to sleep during the day than at night.

I must emphesize that, due to their nocternalness, they also do not need much light to see in the dark, so at most you have faintly glowing plants or lamps throughout the settlement/stronghold/palace that are only strong enough to give a vague outline of the place, but not enough to give anyone any details. It makes it very hard for outsiders to navigate through the place during the night.

The silvans, of course, have no issue seeing everything clearely, allowing them to get the drop on many beings. Their eyes also have an odd glow to them, not like that of the trees, but it’s unique to the silvan folfk and other elves find it highly unsettling.

(Off topic, but i personally believe that the silvans stalk through the forests like leapards and jaguars, largely due to them, well, living in a forest with uneven ground surrounded by foilage that makes it hard to see enemies from far away. They also slink through the forest to hunt, getting a literal drop on their prey from the trees.

The way silvan’s behave is very different from any other elves (except maybe the avari and/or green elves) bc they do not reside in large cities with towering buildings and wide open space)

This in turn has the side affect of at least Thranduil and Legolas walking as if they were stalking their prey and everyone finds it highly unsettling and it makes them think as if the silvan royals are pissed off at sm1 bc surely that must be why they’re behaving as if they are about to kill.

This is why Thranduil got himself accidentally painted as a very scary and temporal elf when in reality he’s a legit chill, calm, and fun guy who likes to party.

HE’S NOT TRYING TO BE SCARY, OK, HE’S JUST A SILVAN TRYING TO LIVE HIS LIFE! (Read: get drunk and make merry)

Also:

Elrond, getting up at the crack of dawn to get to work: oh, Thranduil! I didn’t know you’d be up already!

Thranduil, whose internal clock demands it’s evening and is getting dinner: how the fuck do you function during the day

And:

Boromir, whose taking the night watch: *sees legolas* aY YO WHAT THE FUCK-

Legolas, staring in the general direction of Boromir while sitting perfectly still with a bow in hand bc for him it’s day: *waves* nice night

Aragorn, trying to sleep, used to this: stop being a creepy bitch, Las.

[novamm66]

Red Sky in the Morning - Chapter 19 - Rising Tides

Let’s being 2020 with a bang! (I couldn’t help it!!)

Here there be smut.

This is my first time sharing smut and I hope that you enjoy it. 

---

The ride back to the estate was brief, but Kiaya still fell asleep anyway, her head resting on Cullen’s shoulder. She was in a fog by the time they arrived and she stumbled down the steps of the carriage. She made an undignified squeak when Cullen swept her up into his arms.

“Cullen, you’ll hurt yourself.” This was followed by a huge yawn. Kiaya could feel the vibration of a laugh deep in his chest.

“Nonsense,��� Cullen said as he climbed the steps. He paused inside the main doors only long enough to send a runner for Lyra before heading towards her room. Once inside, he placed her gently down on the bench at the end of her bed.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Kiaya said, looking up at him.

“I know.” Cullen smiled as he bent down and kissed her gently. He pulled away as Lyra’s footsteps echoed through the open doorway. “Relax. Rest. You have earned it.” He kissed her once more before moving away. He nodded to Lyra as she entered, and she shut the door behind him.

 Lyra skipped across the room to where Kiaya sat. “You’re back! I wasn’t expecting you for ages yet.” Kiaya glanced at the clock on the mantel and saw it was barely a quarter to nine. She had been at the palace for only five hours.

“It felt a lot longer,” Kiaya laughed.

“Now,” Lyra moved quickly about the room filling the bath and laying out towels, “I don’t want you to tell me anything. Blackwall and Sera have already told me their stories and I want to guess at what is true and what is a big fat whopper.”

Kiaya smiled and nodded as the elven woman continued to talk. It had been the best thing for both of them when Lyra attacked Kiaya outside of Haven: Kiaya had felt so badly for the distraught woman that she had done everything she could to find her a place with the Inquisition, and Josephine had taken her on as an assistant when it was discovered Lyra had a gift for languages. When Evelyn had arrived with her plan to work as the Inquisitor with Kiaya, Lyra had been Kiaya’s first choice to assist them in their deception. She was perfect for the role, and the three women had become very close while they worked together. 

Kiaya’s eyes were closed and she was dozing in the tub while Lyra brushed the tangles from her hair. She jumped when Lyra’s hand touched her shoulder.

“We are done,” Lyra said softly. “Do you want to stay in the tub for a while?”

Kiaya groaned. “If I do, I will fall completely asleep.” She sat up and got her feet underneath herself. However, when she tried to stand, her legs and back refused to work. She stared at her hands as they gripped the tub edge.

“Kiaya?” Lyra’s question was filled with concern.

“I think I’m stuck.” Kiaya tried to joke while blinking against tears. She was ashamed of her weakness, and terrified that it was getting worse. With Lyra’s help, she got to her feet and, once she was standing, things felt better and it wasn’t long before she was dressed and Lyra had finished tidying up. She hugged Kiaya, told her to sleep, and left.

Kiaya tried to do just that. She could feel the exhaustion that tried to pull her under, but with the anxiety that had settled in her mind, she couldn’t relax enough to let sleep take her. Eventually she gave up and threw back the covers. She grabbed a knitted throw, wrapped it around her shoulders, and padded barefoot out into the hall.

—-

Cullen sat in his shirtsleeves, back resting against the bed’s headboard as he read through the pile of reports that never seemed to end. The early hour of their return had been a pleasant surprise. Cullen was placing another document on his reviewed pile when he heard a knock at the door. He rose to answer it.

In the hall was Kiaya, bare feet peeking from beneath her trouser cuffs, wrapped in a blanket with her hair tumbling down her shoulders and back.

“Can I come in?” Kiaya smiled up at him.

“Of course.” Cullen moved aside and then shut the door behind her. “Are you alright?” He asked as he pulled her to his chest and held her. He felt Kiaya nod.

“I’m fine. Sore but fine. I just couldn’t fall asleep.” She snuggled closer and he held her tighter.

“You had no trouble sleeping in the carriage,” Cullen teased, breathing in the gentle scent of her hair.

“That must have been your stimulating company, Commander Rutherford,” Kiaya replied.

Cullen tickled her sides gently in retaliation, and she laughed and squirmed.

“Oh, stop, I’m sorry,” Kiaya gasped between giggles. “Your company is wonderful and everything I could ask for.”

Cullen laughed, hugging her again. He was glad to see the sparkle in her eyes and smile on her lips.

“That’s kind of why I am here.” Kiaya slid her arms around his waist, wrapping him in the blanket as well. “I was hoping I could lay down with you for a while.” Colour rose in her cheeks. “I feel safe with you, and that helps my mind to quiet.” Her ears turned pink as she leaned back and looked up at him. “Would that be inappropriate?” 

“Not at all.” He kissed her lips, nose and forehead before pulling her towards the bed and folding back the covers. He was careful not to displace any of his papers and Kiaya laughed.

“Are you working?”

“Of course. Paperwork never sleeps. Or stops, apparently.” He smiled at her before dousing all the lamps except the one he needed to read. Kiaya had lain down curling up on her side and pulling the blankets over her. Cullen resumed his position against the headboard, picking up his papers. After a few quiet moments Cullen began to rub Kiaya’s back and shoulders gently. She sighed, and he felt her tension slowly melt away. By the time Cullen finished his reports, Kiaya’s breathing was even, and she was asleep.

Cullen watched her for a while, tenderly brushing the hair from her face. Kiaya slept with her arms crossed over her chest, like she was protecting herself, but her face was relaxed. He had read her letters repeatedly since she had given them to him. Kiaya had poured her heart out into them. Her fears and frustrations, the grief she felt when they were unable to save Solas’s friend, her fury at the destruction from the civil war on the Plains, all interwoven with her feelings for him. Cullen put the reports away and put out the lamp. He laid down on top of the blankets, stretched out next to her, and drifted off to sleep.

—-

Kiaya jolted awake, pain from the mark shooting up her arm. She hissed quietly as she got out of bed, trying not to disturb the man sleeping next to her. She crossed to the window and placed her palm flat against the glass. The coolness helped dull the pain while the green light diffused through the glass highlighting the streaks of rain. The storm had finally rolled in lashing the windows with rain while brief flashes of lightning lit up the world beyond.

She heard the bed creak behind her followed by the heat of Cullen’s presence against her back, She leaned into his chest. “I tried not to disturb you.”

Cullen’s arms wrapped around her waist, his breath tickling her ear. “Are you alright?”

Kiaya took a moment evaluating the soreness leftover from the events at the ball. She was stiff but the pain and weakness were gone. “I feel better. It is the mark. It tends to be more active after I use it.” She sighed. “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here. I should have let you sleep.”

“Sleep is overrated. I am very glad you are here.” His voice was low making Kiaya shiver.

“I am glad I am here too.” She replied. She met his eyes in the reflection on the glass, and he held her gaze. Kiaya felt the heat from the look on his face alone.

He slowly bowed his head until his lips almost touched her skin and whispered gently, “Tell me what you want.”

Kiaya’s throat was dry as she swallowed and moistened her lips with her tongue. Even in the dim reflection she could see Cullen’s eyes darken.

“At the moment, I need you.” Kiaya breath hitched at his answering smile and Cullen’s hands began tracing up her sides. He lowered his lips to her shoulder, bare through the wide neck of her shirt. Torturously, slowly Cullen traced soft kisses up her neck before gently nibbling her earlobe.

Kiaya moaned.

Cullen nipped at her pulse point drawing a gasp from her. “Are you certain?”

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” Kiaya spoke firmly and quickly, his teasing already making her breathless.

Kiaya gasped as Cullen bite her shoulder. He then kissed the spot and pleasure zinged down Kiaya’s spine. He slowly released the remaining buttons holding her shirt closed and his palm and fingers began exploring the softness of her belly, inching upward. His hand stopped just below her breast and his thumb lightly traced the bottom curve, reversing just shy of its peak, teasing her.

Kiaya moaned again. His other hand loosened her trousers ties then slipped underneath the fabric. Kiaya couldn’t hold still anymore. She reached for him, one hand burying itself in his hair pressing him closer to her neck, while the other gripped his forearm urging him on. Cullen hissed in her ear as he gently cupped the heat at the apex of her thighs. Kiaya writhed against him, trying to shift towards his fingers but he held her firmly.

“Cullen,” his name came out as a whine. Kiaya bit her lip to stop the sound, only to keen as his fingers ghosted over her clit.

“I think,” Kiaya panted. “We have waited long enough.” Kiaya rocked her backside into his pelvis, grinding against Cullen’s erection as best she could. “Because if I don’t have you inside of me now, I am going to scream.”

Cullen growled in her ear, spun her around and kissed her hard. Kiaya let her shirt fall from her shoulders, pressing her breasts against his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The rasp of the linen of his shirt against her hardened nipples made her tremble. She was so distracted by him that she didn’t notice that they had moved to the bed until he pushed her gently and she fell onto the rumbled covers.

—-

Cullen gazed down at the half-naked woman before pulling his shirt over his head. Kiaya raised herself on her elbows, her breasts swaying with the movement. Her eyes were dark and her desire was clear on her face. She sat up the rest of the way and reached for the ties of his trousers, her fingers brushing along his erection.

Cullen grunted and his hands snapped out to capture hers.

“Cullen?” Kiaya’s voice held a note of worry.

Cullen gently slid his hands up her arms to cup her face. “You are not the only one who has been wanting this for a while. If you touch me I am afraid it will be over too soon.”

Kiaya nodded, and pulled him down to kiss her. Their kissing quickly became frenzied. Cullen yanked his ties loose and kicked off his trousers, groaning into her mouth as his erection sprang free.

Kiaya whimpered in answer and tried to press herself to him. With great effort Cullen pulled back only enough to gently press her down on her back before he slid his hands along her sides, skimming by her breasts to hook his fingers into her waistband.

Kiaya lifted her hips and arched her back. Cullen’s heart to stop. He cursed as he lost what little control he had and yanked off her trousers, flinging them behind him. He settled on top of her, pressing his lips to the centre of her chest. Kiaya keened as Cullen’s stubble rubbed against her breasts and he gladly gave them the attention they deserved.

It didn’t take long before she was begging almost incoherently. “Please, more.” She tugged his hair, scratching his scalp with her blunt fingertips the feeling making him shudder. He released her nipple from his mouth with a pop and they both moved fully on to the bed.

It was a delicious feeling, having her moving beneath him. Her pupils were wide, her face flushed, the colour riding high on her cheekbones. She looked wild with want as she gazed up at him.

Her eyes snapped closed as his tip moved against her, her hips thrusting up to coat his length in wetness.

“Kiaya, are you sure?” He panted, “With me?” Needing to hear her answer.

Her eyes opened and tenderness flooded her face. “Without a shadow of a doubt. Now,” she rolled her hips aligning herself with his length perfectly. “Fuck me.”

Cullen thrust inside, both of them groaning in pleasure as he filled her. He could feel her quiver around him as she covered her mouth to stifle her cry. He shook with the effort to remain still but it was hard.

“Love? Can I move?” He gasped out once her eyes opened again.

She nodded, rolling her hips and wrapping her legs around his waist, taking him in deeper. “Yes, please, move. Now.” She gasped, the last ending with a whine.

Cullen let go drawing himself back before snapping his hips forward. Kiaya rolled her hips to meet his thrusts and their pace quickly increased.

The room filled with the sounds of skin meeting skin, and the panting and moans that poured from both of them.

“So good,” Cullen hissed, “I won’t…”

“Don’t have to,” was Kiaya’s gasping reply and she arched her back and ground her hips into his pelvis. Cullen wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her to him. He felt her tense, and he watched her face as she came apart.

The look and feeling of Kiaya’s pleasure pulled him over the edge and he buried his face in the curve of her neck to muffle his roar as he came.

It took a few moments before he could move again, his muscles trembling with the effort not to collapse on her. Kiaya sighed when he pulled back and rolled over to lay beside her. She curled into him as she rested her head on his shoulder. Quiet moments passed and their heartbeats calmed.

Kiaya pressed her lips to his skin before speaking. “I love you. You know that, right?” Before Cullen could answer she hurried on. “Not just because of tonight, which was wonderful, but everything.”

Cullen turned to face her, holding her tightly, “I love you too. I never expected to find this, to find you.”

She kissed him, and snuggled tighter into his chest and together they drifted off to sleep.

—-

Kiaya slept well and deeply for the first time in a long while. Normally she was awake and up quickly, but this morning she lingered in the haze between awake and asleep. She was warm and comfortable and, best of all, she wasn’t alone. Kiaya could hear Cullen’s heartbeat from where her head rested on his shoulder. She could feel his hand against her back, the gentle stroke of fingers telling her that he was awake.

She opened her eyes with a smile. “Good morning.” Kiaya caught a glimpse of the frown on Cullen’s face before he looked at her, although the furrow between his brows remained. “Or maybe not so good,” Kiaya asked as she stroked her fingers along his jaw. “Are you regretting last night?”

“What? No.” Cullen was quick to answer. “I… You could barely walk yesterday. I shouldn’t have...” his words stopped as he frowned at the ceiling again.

“Hold on.” Kiaya moved until she was laying on Cullen’s chest, looking him in the eye. “As I remember it, you asked and I enthusiastically agreed.”

“But...”

“No buts.” Kiaya hushed him with a finger to his lips. “Cullen, if I let pain stop me from doing things I would never get out of bed. You turned a miserable night into one of the best, and I won’t have you regretting it on my behalf.” Kiaya’s tone was soft as she scolded him. She watched as the concern faded from his eyes before she kissed the tip of his nose and rested her head on his chest, sighing happily when his arms wrapped around her. The warmth and comfort of just being together was perfect.

“What time is it?” Kiaya asked. It was still fairly dark in the room, and she was hoping there was more time to sleep.

“Sunrise was a half-hour ago.”

“What?” Kiaya looked at the clock, then bolted upright, elbowing Cullen in her haste. “Shit, sorry.” Kiaya scrambled from the bed and started pulling her clothes on.

“You know our first meeting isn’t until noon,” he said, stretching out on the bed.

Kiaya made a face at home before grinning. “I remember. But Lyra is coming to my room for my treatment this morning.” She sat on the edge of the bed while doing up her shirt buttons. “I should probably be there.”

“Probably,” Cullen chuckled.

Kiaya finished the last button and pounced on him, kissing him deeply.

“I love you,” she said when they broke apart.

“I love you too.”

Kiaya hurried to the door, winking at him as she ducked out into the hall. Everything was quiet as she hurried down the hall and ducked into her room. Kiaya had just shut the door when someone spoke from behind her.

“Moorniiing” A singsong voice drawled.

Kiaya jumped and swore. “For fuck’s sake, Lyra. You scared the crap out of me!”

“While sneaking into your own room,” Lyra grinned. “One might wonder where you are sneaking from.”

“One can go on wondering,” Kiaya said primly. Lyra burst into giggles and flew to hug Kiaya. Kiaya couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m really happy for you,” Lyra said.

“I’m happy for me too,” Kiaya replied, giving her friend a squeeze. “Now, shall we get this unpleasantness over with, or do you want to fire questions at me?”

Lyra laughed and skipped to the bed. “Can’t I do both?”

“No.”

—-

[a-lil-bitch-named-breakfast]

Arsitolius: Chapter one

Early Sunday morning brought about the loud humdrum of the copper Church Bell that loomed over the city streets. The mundane sound almost seemed to be like a beat that herded the numbers of crowded people across the streets as if it were some boring dance.

A group of Raven’s scattered themselves upon the roof of a building, pecking strenuously at an unidentifiable object that had been scattered across the shingles. They’d appeared to make a snack of whatever the substance was. Suddenly, they scattered in a flurry as a red boot planted itself between their cluster, sending them flying in all directions as they squawked and screeched in an ear piercing outcry.

Ateri knelt in the spot they’d moved from, white hair falling down over her shoulders as her red eyes scanned the people on the street below. She was a young, short, petite elven woman, with a cantankerous personality almost as blazing red as the bright crimson of her boots. Her hair was crystal white, and any strand that the sunlight could reach glimmered with utmost beauty; like fresh sparkling snow in the morning. Her skin was fair, face soft and slightly rounded with light freckles scattering her cheeks and button nose. She wore a hood silver in color and rimmed with red fabric that shined like silk. She seemed to be armored underneath the silver fabric, dressed far less femininely than most women her age.. But what had to be the strangest yet most alluring thing about her was her eyes. Each one of her glossy orbs were a deep, crimson red, round and almost curious about the world around her. As far as her appearance, she was strangely stunning.

Tucking a strand of hair behind the distinct point of her elven ear she pressed herself closer to the roof below her so as to not be seen by the masses below. No, being seen certainly would not be in her best interest. You see, three officials of the highest capital estate had been been murdered on trips to the third estate within the past four months; slaughtered where they stood amongst the city streets. They’d been dead before they’d even flashed a glance at their killer, and the crowded people had gone into a furious flurry at the shock of the bloodied body suddenly hitting the ground.

Ateri had been responsible for all three murders, but she took no guilt in what she had done. The first official she’d murdered was a thief, taking money and lives just like her, yet he’d gotten away with it. He’d planned to come down from the all mighty golden palace for a brief three day trip to work on getting an order for higher taxes in the third estate only to find he’d be staying for a lot longer than that. Ateri dealt with him discreetly in an alleyway late one evening. To say the least the tax rates of the third estate were so far left unchanged.

The other two had come to do despicable things not much different if not worse from the first. Ateri had dealt with them in the same manner, getting more and more daring with each attack. However, her impulsive temper and ego had gotten the better of her, to say the least. Her most recent assassination had not gone as well as the others. The senator from The west of the first estate had come down for a weekend to get some things in order with the people, as well as to collect those who hadn’t paid their dues in taxes. But the last two murders had made the capital weary. They had begun to send more guards with each visit. Senator Riley Malyon’s Plethora of armored body guards could quite possibly be described as a whole fleet, and Ateri knew full well that attempting to pull him away from the crowds would only end in failure and quite possibly her untimely demise. She wasn’t risking it. At first she thought it would be best to just back off; to let the fear she’d already caused die down a bit and lay low till an opportunity was open. However, like i’d stated before, she was an impulsive young woman. Many of her decisions were based on nothing but pure emotion. Not many of those said decisions were good. This happened to be one of those cases. Upon seeing a young housewife getting pulled away from her children by a guard she’d made a dumb decision, and in the brief second that Maylon was vulnerable she’d lept from the roof of the building above and struck as hard and as fast as she could. The brief overwhelming shock of his strangled cry and splattering blood had been enough of a distraction to give her an escape, but it was narrow. She was lucky to be alive. However she hadn’t gotten out completely scotch free. Her brief appearance in the pale moonlight had been just enough for her appearance to finally be seen by weary eyes. And even though her hood had covered her eyes and most of her nose. The public now had her approximate age, height, stature, hair color and build. A watchful guard had given her full description to officials following the morning after Maylon’s death. Everyone knew who to look out for on the streets now. They’d even given her a name, which shockingly Ateri quite enjoyed. The public seemed to take a liking to calling her the silver hood, since they had no other name to call her by. Ateri thought it had a wonderful ring to it, feeling it gave her a mysterious vibe. However she knew she couldn’t just go around claiming it on the streets. She hadn’t even been caught yet and the sentence hanging above her head was death. The bounty on her head to anyone that could bring her in was a copious amount. It would be near enough to move a man and his family from the third estate to the first. Ateri couldn’t help but wonder if that wealth would be given to her if she were to turn herself in. it was a joke that she’d made with herself quite some time before, and a joke that she still found funny even in her current state. She laughed slightly at the thought of iit as she leapt down from the roof and rounded the corner, catching a brief glimpse of a poster hanging upon the wall, the words ‘WANTED, DEAD OR ALIVE.’ written in large red letters across the top of the page. She smirked slightly, pausing to step back and pick up the page.

‘The silver hood, wanted for four counts of capital murder. If seen do not approach. Run to get a guard immediately. DO NOT go after her yourself. EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.’ She couldn’t help but raise a brow slightly, irked by the statement. She wasn’t going to just start killing random civilians! She stepped back throwing the paper to the ground and giving a good stomp just for safe measure before turning and walking off. The less drawings of her just hanging around the city the better. One less for people to see. She grumbled slightly before carefully peaking around a corner to assure that the path was clear. She hummed as in the distance as the bell rung for the third time. It was noon, perfect. You see, today wasn’t going to be another day where she could let herself lay low. No, today was the day she planned to start preparing her next move. She was going to rip the capital apart bit by bit until shed made her way to Serphentez herself. She didn’t care how long it took. However, she knew if she was going to keep up like this she couldn’t just keep using a dagger for every attack. She was going to need something bigger, sharper, stronger. She’d recently made a deal in the shadows with blackmarket salesman of sorts. And he’d offered her an incredibly sharp sword in exchange for a gracious price. Ateri had agreed to the deal, offering him the money she’d taken off Maylon in exchange for the blade. And so it was a set deal. He’d get the sword for her, without any questions as to who she was and what she needed it for, and in exchange she would pay him for his trouble. It seemed fair enough. All she knew was this was the set date she was to pick up the sword, at exactly noon in the red sales tent by the clock tower. She’d been watching the tent for an hour or so from a rooftop already to secure her safety, watching for anyone else that could have possibly entered or left that strange tent, but nobody did. It appeared to be forgotten in the sea of other colorful tents with shopkeepers screaming about sales and good prices. She figured this would be an easy pickup, in and out with no suspicion. So as the clock struck noon she pulled the brown fabric of a beggars cloak from her bag, wrapping it around herself and pulling the hood over head head to cover the telling greys and reds of her signature garments. She stepped into the crowd of people, head down and eyes to the floor as she made her way through the stampede.

“Excuse me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My apologies.”

“Hey- watch it chick these boots weren’t cheap!”

“Hey!”

Through the crowds it seemed everyone seemed to be shouting, though none seemed to be directing said shouts at her. She grumbled slightly, squeezing through a crowd of a mother with her six children.

“Sir, please... there has to be something you can do i have a family to feed!”

“Listen here wench. No money, no bread.” She paused in her tracks.

“Excuse me....?” Her voice rang out quiet, yet enough for the man to hear. He looked up.

“Yeah- Ya heardz’ me. So beat it kid.” She turned slowly and let one hand slip out from under her cloak, tossing a singular coin onto the counter. The man eyed her in shock, not seeming to understand why she’d done such a thing. She huffed slightly.

“God are ya so dang stupid ya can’t figure it out? Get the stick out of your rear and give that woman the bread before i make ya regret it got me?” The man seemed to hear from the tone of her voice that she wasn’t playing around and nodded, slowly sliding the loaf of bread across the table towards the young woman. She couldn’t have been older than twenty five, with stress lines creasing around her lovely blue eyes and hair already going gray. A spot of dirt was smudged against her cheek, which Ateri noticed as the woman turned to start hysterically thanking her for her generosity. Ateri cut her off with a shake of her head and reached up to wipe the smudge from her cheek.

“Don’t thank me. Just take it.” She mumbled. The woman watched for a second in shock as she disappeared around the corner without a word.

Slipping into the tent she dusted herself off. It took her eyes a moment to adjust from the light outside to the sudden darkness within the closed tent. But a voice rang out, catching her attention.

“You’re quite the patron.... for a thief.”

She paused, read eyed glancing up from under her hood.

“You’ve been watching me?” She mumbled, shocked that he’d picked her from the crowd.

“For as long as you’ve been watching me from that rooftop.” He hummed back in reply. Ateri froze. He’d seen her watching him....? That must have meant he saw her without her-.... she narrowed her eyes, preparing herself for a fight if there was one to be had. Surely if he knew who she actually was things couldn’t end pretty. The man seemed to sense exactly what was on her mind.

“Oh don’t tense up like that. I know what you’re capable of I’d have to be an idiot to take you on myself.”

Now that her eyes had adjusted to the light she could clearly see him standing there next to a table, a chair pulled out for her. He was young, but definitely older than her. She assumed him to be in his early thirties, with muscular arms and dark smooth skin. His eyes were narrow and refined, like a sly fox in the dim light. However, taking his words to mind she cautiously stepped forwards and ushered him out of her way, muttering a soft

“Thank you.” As she seated herself and he pushed her chair back in. This was an under the radar black market sale she wasn’t so sure why he was going to the trouble of being so polite. It unnerved her to say the least.

The man gave a humble nod in reply as he leisurely sauntered his way around to his side of the wooden table, kicking up dust as he did so. Pulling his chair out with a loud screech he plopped himself down, placing his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers. Ateri attempted to mimic his actions, hoping it would make her seem like she knew what she was doing. It didn’t work as planned however and the mysterious man seemed to get more of a kick out of it than she’d wanted him to.

“Drink?” He offered graciously, pouring himself a glass of whisky before looking up at her as he held the bottle over the second glass as he waited for her reply.

“Yes that’d be nice.” She mumbled out, graciously accepting the glass as he slid it to her. She nursed it in both hands, taking a sip before cringing slightly at the strong taste. He cackled slightly.

“I take it you’re not a drinker?” He hummed softly, raising a brow curiously as he gave a sly smile. She didn’t look up but quite rudely retorted.

“No i live in the third estate and I’d like to not starve. I do suppose that when i get Zygerot I’d like to spend it on food, not booze.” She sneered slightly. The man put his hands up defensively.

“Okay okay. Don’t get yourself all in a twist sweetie i was just asking. The name’s Vynos. Your’s?”

“I’d prefer to remain anonymous, and don’t call me sweetie.”

The man frowned.

“Well then what am i to call a fair maiden such as yourself by?” He smiled slightly, leaning down slightly to try and get a peek under her hood. She literally placed the entire palm of her hand over his face, pushing him back with a dangerous growl.

“Anything but sweetie.” She spat. The man sighed.

“Okay, fine honey.”

Ateri growled angrily which seemed to bring a sleazy smile to Vynos’s face as he leaned back in his seat. Ateri decided not to protest any further. She just wanted to take her sword and get out of there.

“Look-“ she growled.

“I didn’t come here to stick around and chat.” She laid the bag of coins on the table.

“So give me the sword and let me go.”

“Awe.” Vynos pouted slightly, giving her a look that she wanted to punch straight off his face.

“You’d aren’t gonna stay around to chat?”

“Sorry.” She grunted insincerely.

“I’m not a chatter.”

The man sighed but shrugged.

“Fine.” He reached for the sword before pausing. Ateri stiffened slightly, the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly standing up. Something didn’t feel right. He smirked slightly.

“But i do want one more thing.....”

Ateri raised a brow.

“That wasn’t the deal.” She spat.

“Well my deals change.” He sat back up with a grin. Ateri’s hands balled into fists. She wasn’t leaving this tent without that sword.

“Don’t worry don’t worry!” Vynos waved her off.

“It’s nothing you can’t handle! I don’t want anymore money from you my sweet... sweet flower.” Ateri narrowed her eyes as he reached one hand out and gently brushed his fingers under her chin.

“I just want the truth.” He breathed. She growled slightly, about to stand up and flip the table on him when he grabbed her with such a sudden force that she couldn’t breath, and she was yanked back with her back against his chest..... and a dagger to her throat.

“You’re the silver hood aren’t you?”

Ateri swallowed harshly, closing her eyes and cringing.

“And if i tell you what will you do?” She breathed out shakily. She knew she’d been pulled into a position where she couldn’t fight back. She could practically feel his smirk.

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve already given yourself away.”

Ateri’s eyes widened and she gulped before growling.

“What the hell do you want...?” She hissed through bared teeth.

“Well, my dear Silver sinner....” he breathed.

“The bounty on your head is 20’000 Zygerots. Do you know how much that is....?” A wicked smile spread across his lips.

“I’m well aware.” Ateri spat.

“So what.. ya gonna take me to the guards?”

“No.” He said.

“I’m going to take you out to the woods far outside the walls of Serphica. I have somebody waiting there for me who seems to want you... very badly my dear. So much so that they’re willing to pay me for your delivery.” He smirked

“And while we’re on the subject of money.” He cooed softly, voice laced with underlying venom. Ateri suddenly felt his hand in her pocket, and gasped, squirming as he used two fingers to pluck her dagger away from her. She snarled as he laughed.

“After i turn this into the capital... they too will pay me for finally getting rid of their greatest nuisance...You”

Ateri spat, struggling pointlessly against his grasp as her chest rose and fell rapidly and her nostrils flared with rage.

“Oh please.... you really think they’ll believe you over a damn dagger!”

“Oh i do...” Vynos chuckled.

“But it doesn’t matter to you anyways now does it? By the time I’m turning that dagger in. You’ll most likely be dead....”

Ateri gulped And She couldn’t help but think

‘Dear god... what have i gotten myself into’

[rowdy-revenant]

The Beauty of a Beast - part 5

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Becky Rosen (briefly), Y/N Singer, Gabriel, Castiel, Balthazar, Chuck, Jack, Charlie, Crowley - future pairing of Gabriel x reader

Words: 1500+

Beta-reader: @nobodys-baby-now

Warnings: Bi!Dean (if you consider that a warning), arguing

Chapter summary: Sam tries to cheer up his rejected brother. Planning dinner doesn’t work out very well at the castle.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

[General masterlist] [Gabriel masterlist]

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Part 5 - Taverns and Tea

Business at the Roadhouse tavern was like it always was; busy. Dean Winchester sat in his usual fur covered chair, facing the fireplace. His brother brought another round of drinks for the both of them and set them on a table before Dean.

Dean downed another pint. “What’s the point.” He muttered. “I keep pursuing Y/N and every time they shoot me down.”

“So maybe stop pursuing them?” Sam offered.

The older Winchester glared at his brother.

“Look, Dean, it’s not the end of the world. You can get any girl- or guy, for that matter- in town you want!”

“Yeah, but I don’t want anyone else!” Dean huffed. The hunter was too stubborn to let the one that got away go.

“Dean, please. Come on, Benny Lafitte’s single, right?” Sam said.

“I’m not dating someone taller than me.” Dean grumbled.

“What about Jo Harvelle?” Sam offered.

“Talks too much.” Dean scoffed.

“Gadreel? The librarian?”

“He’s a nerd.”

“Becky Rosen?”

“More like clingy.”

“Garth Fitzgerald’s a nice guy.”

“He’s always too happy.”

“Rowena?”

“You’re joking. Why can’t Y/N just like me?” Dean whined.

Sam sighed. “Don’t put yourself down like this, Dean.”

“If I’m not good enough for them, I’m not good enough at all.” Dean concluded, turning his green eyes to the ground and pouting like a child.

Sam sat next to Dean. He looked up at the mantle and the wall behind it. Countless animal heads decorated the tavern but this section? This was all the Winchesters’. Scratch that, it was all Dean’s. All Sam did during hunts was chase the prey for Dean to wear it out before his brother got the final shot, and all the credit. Sam always felt proud of his brother, though there was always a hint of jealousy.

“Everyone here wishes they were you. Your skills, your good looks…” Sam would add ‘your brains’ but his brother wasn’t exactly the sharpest arrow in the quiver. “Your reputation…” He added. “Everybody in town either wants to be with you or to be you.”

Dean just grunted as a reply.

“Tell me again how you got that one.” Sam said, pointing to the stuffed head of a bear.

A faint smile crept across Dean’s face. “Took me three whole days. I sprained my ankle in the process, but still managed to catch it.”

A couple people grouped around Dean as he told the tale.

“It got caught in a trap I had laid out by the river, so I caught up to it and BANG!” Dean shouted. “Killed it in one shot.”

Becky, a blonde who was arguably Dean’s biggest fan clapped as he finished the story. Dean gestured for her to come closer, so she did, sitting on the arm of the armchair, leaning towards her crush.

“Oh Dean,” Becky sighed. “You’re sooo manly.”

The elder brother grinned and flexed. “I work out, you know. I bet I could lift Sam.”

“Really?” She gasped.

Sam grimaced. “Please don’t. We’ll take your word for it.”

Dean laughed. “Scared I’m right, Sammy?”

Dean went on telling hunting stories about his prowess. He was skilled, that was true, but his ego and stubbornness often got him in trouble, so Sam was the one who had to pull him out of it. Of course, the favour was never returned.

Sam was always there for his brother. He supported him and helped him with hunts or picking up flings. The thing was, he didn’t have the courage to get in Dean’s way when things got out of hand.

If Sam had Dean’s courage, or Dean had Sam’s intellect, things would probably turn out different for the brothers.

A loud knock at your door woke you. You sat up and yawned, surprised for a second by the unfamiliar surroundings. You weren’t home, you remembered.

Your room in this castle had to be the size of your house in the village. The four poster bed was soft and big. The walls were painted elegantly, rather than plain brick. Everything was so much bigger, so much more expensive. Not to mention the wardrobe was alive too.

There was another knock. “Dinner. Now. Join me.” The Beast growled from outside.

“Ask nicely.” Castiel chided.

“And smile!” Balthazar added.

The Beast bared his fangs in what vaguely resembled a smile.

Balthazar winced. “We’ll work on that.”

“Now ask again,” Chuck said. “Nicely.”

The Beast huffed and faced the door again. “Would you join me for dinner?” He asked in a softer, but still demanding voice.

You wanted to scream. “Join you? You treat me like garbage and you want me to eat dinner with you?!” You yelled.

The feathers of the Beast wings bristled, and his chest rose and fell heavily as his breathing quickened.

The servants picked up quickly on his anger. Castiel was the first to try and calm him down. “Easy now-”

The Beast raised his fist and slammed it against the door. “YOU WILL JOIN ME FOR DINNER AND THAT’S NOT A REQUEST!” He roared.

“NO!” You yelled back, twisting the lock on the door handle and dragging a chair in front of it. You didn’t want to see his ugly face again if you could help it.

“Fine!” The Beast sneered. “GO AHEAD AND STARVE! If you don’t eat with me, you don’t eat at all!”

“Fine!” You replied.

The Beast turned and stormed off down the hall, slashing a wall in anger as he went.

Balthazar looked at his friends. “Staff meeting.”

Balthazar stood on the round table, tapping his arm against a glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Hello, everyone.” Balthazar started. “Well, everyone who could be here.”

“I can tell dad!” A teacup piped up.

“Hush, Jack. Later.” Castiel replied.

“So, we have a guest. Someone from the village named Y/N.” Balthazar continued. “As you know, we don’t have a lot of time left. If things work out, Y/N could be the one. We’ll all return to normal.”

“That’s a great plan and all, but what if it doesn’t work?” Charlie, a former maid turned cardinal-shaped feather-duster asked.

“We have to try.” Chuck said.

The group murmured in agreement.

“So, the master has forbidden Y/N to eat dinner with him after his temper tantrum. Of course, we can’t have that.” Balthazar retold. “Gabriel will be asleep in his quarters soon enough. We’ll make a second dinner.”

“Castiel, Jack, bring some tea upstairs for our guest. Tell Y/N and Crowley of the plan. Charlie, tell Lucifer to wait in the dining room. The rest of us will cook and set up.” Chuck gave the orders.

Cas nodded as best as a teapot could nod. “Come along, Jack.”

Jack skipped across the table to join his uncle. “Charlie, tell dad I say hi!”

Charlie smiled. “Will do, kiddo.”

“So, can I ask why you’re a wardrobe?” You inquired.

Crowley hummed, thinking. “Suppose the one who cursed us had a sense of humour. I was a tailor.”

“Huh. Interesting.” You replied.

“And you?” Crowley asked. “What do you do?”

“I help- or helped my father with his work.” You explained. “He makes things like clocks and music boxes.”

A tap at the door ended your quiet conversation.

Your voice wavered as you spoke. “Go away.”

“It’s Castiel.” Was the muffled reply.

“The master doesn’t knock that softly.” Crowley chuckled. “Let him in.”

You moved the chair away from your door and unlocked it. When you opened the door, a trolley with a tea set was before you.

“You must be Castiel.” You said, wheeling the cart in.

“I am.” The teapot replied. “This,” He gestured to the teacup beside him “Is Jack.”

“Nice to meet you!” The little cup replied, its painted face grinning. He sounded young. You felt pity for this poor kid. He was probably the only one of his age in this palace.

You smiled. “Nice to meet you too.”

“We’re making you something to eat.” Castiel said.

You frowned. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to eat.”

“What the great big lummock doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Crowley huffed. “You need to eat, love.”

“You’re not afraid of him?”

The room fell silent.

“No,” Castiel finally spoke. “He has outbursts but he’ll never hurt anyone.”

“I think the person who fears him most is himself.” Crowley mused. “Are you afraid?”

“No,” You replied. “He doesn’t scare me. He’s big and he’s cruel, but there’s… something about him. Like an animal lashing out in pain…”

You fell quiet. Could this beast have any emotion apart from anger? Why would these cursed people stand up for him? How did this happen?

~ Murdoch’s tag list - want to be added or removed? Send me an ask! ~

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Gabriel: @elven-leaf​ @hiddles-and-skittles​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​ @im-gabriels-bitch​ @jannalionheart​ @elenawrit​ @trollhunter94​

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[authorellenmint]

Adorable Alistair being made pretty by his daughter drawn by @voidtakeyou to go along with this short story:

Reiss whipped her hat off with one hand and tossed it right onto the stand. It rolled in a perfect circle before coming to a stop upon the hook. She shot her eyes up to, of course, find the agency completely dark. The one time she managed it without having the hat miss, fall behind a desk, or boomerang back at her and no one was here to see her triumph.

"Lunet?" she called for her second in command, but save a flicker of firelight dancing from under the door there was no answer. "I got word back from our second office," Reiss continued, easing through the half door and sliding around a separator wall. It gave the illusion that they were more professional than the often half naked dwarf jogging through the front waiting area did.

"Seems that Qimat's gotten some information on..." her words died as a streak of blonde hair dashed through the final backroom door.

It paused long enough to form into the shape of her daughter who was full of smiles. Reiss instinctively braced herself. "Hi Mom," Myra waved her fingers, then suddenly dashed forward to hug her. "How's the case going?"

"Fine," she broke off the hug, eyeing up her daughter. Myra was dressed in the same outfit she left her, so it was unlikely she tried to dye her clothes a new color again when her mother wasn't home. Her hair wasn't whacked off to her ears, so she hadn't let the Princess attempt to style her or talked the girl into it. But there was a chocolate stain on her cheek and her eyes were wild from Maker only knew how much sugar coursing in her veins.

"Good, good," Myra nodded her head, but she kept glancing back towards the room they set up for her. It wasn't surprising that the one room apartment wouldn't last too long for a growing girl. There wasn't really any space to expand upstairs, so Reiss had to reconfigure options down below. All of which Myra was allowed upon proof she could behave herself a full staircase away from her mother. It'd been an entire month since the move and Reiss was on pins and needles for the innocent act to crack off.

"Where's Lunet?" Reiss asked, glancing around the darkened office. They often switched who worked where as much to keep their employees on their toes as to get access to the better chairs. The ones at the second office had fancy backs that could tip.

"Oh, she's back there with all of..." Myra slapped a hand to her mouth and her eyes shot open wide.

"All of who?" Reiss narrowed in on her daughter who was doing her best to try to waft her damning words away with her hands.

"No one, Mom," she chuckled while twirling her blonde hair around her finger. From what was supposed to be her room came a cacophony of girly giggles, sounding way too much like mice racing through the pipes. "Um," Myra gulped at her mother's glare, "Not entirely no one. A few of my friends."

Reiss stomped across the gap towards her daughter's room, Myra frozen in place but no doubt her brain churning for ways to get out of whatever she did. Reiss quickly eyeballed up her office, but it looked mostly in tact. The sword was on the wall, and no one had stolen all the ink bottles. Things were a mess but that could be as much her doing as her daughters. When she grabbed onto the door latch shaped like a wyvern, Reiss paused at the sound of girls trying to shush each other. Counting the number was impossible as the voices covered over each other and hands slapped against mouths.

Hurling her shoulder into the door, she opened to find five girls camped around an office chair in the middle of Myra's room. Three humans, and two elves, all of them had pink and purple streaks in their hair regardless of what the natural color was. When two of the girls looked back at the woman standing in the doorway, Reiss spotted stars made out of glitter stuck to their cheeks.

"Myra," her voice pitched low and she turned to her daughter that went from trying to slink in to standing proud.

Her spine snapped straight and she stuck her chin out. "What?"

"No, what, missy. Are you supposed to...?" Reiss caught sight of Lunet perched upon Myra's tiny desk, the lip of a wine bottle to her mouth. She tugged it away and then raised it as if in a toast to the fuming mother. Why did she think Lunet would be a source of discipline? Myra could run circles around the Grand Cleric in such matters. Twist a finger in her blonde hair, bat her big green eyes, stick out her lip and most people fell over themselves to let her do whatever she wanted.

The only one holding back the potential tyrant was Reiss and... "Where's your father?"

"Er," a voice rose up from in between the mob of girls. Slowly, the chair spun around to reveal Alistair who looked as if he'd head butted a clown and nearly all of the makeup smeared back upon his face. Bright purple lipstick circled around his lips, while a neon pink filled in the thin mouth. He had three stars on his cheek, and the shiniest blue eyeshadow Reiss had ever seen. To finish, the girls tucked a dragon braid into his hair and then dusted it all with more glitter.

"Sweet Maker," Reiss had to turn around to hide the laugh turning her face red as a cherry tomato. Unfortunately, her daughter was standing right behind and a far too familiar snicker rose on her lips. She knew she was safe if her mother found whatever she did hilarious.

"Alistair," Reiss squawked out, trying to shake the laughter out of her voice. Once she felt composed enough to dole out punishment, she turned back to the man who looked like a bard's fever dream crossed with a unicorn. "What's going on?"

"Well, um, we were all sitting around telling stories and then Ellen," he paused in his story to jerk a thumb at the elf that was presumably Ellen, "seems she had a new makeup kit she was itching to try and then..."

"And then you let the girls cover the Ki...you in-- Oh, Maker's breath," she couldn't hide the snort rising in her nose. It burned the thin skin while trapped against the swollen bump from her old break. "And you did nothing to stop this?" Reiss glanced over at her supposed friend and confidant.

Lunet chuckled, "Are you shi...kidding me? You think I'd stop this? Oh, girls, you missed a spot on his forehead. Got to contour that caveman brow down."

Two of the girls grabbed onto a gigantic makeup brush and dabbed it into a pile of pink blush. Chalky powder erupted into the air as they attacked the King's forehead as if it was their duty to the crown. Alistair sat there blinking from the assault until the girls stepped back to reveal what appeared to be a giant welt rising off his forehead. He looked as if he walked smack dab into a low bar.

               "Good job," Lunet raised up her thumb in praise, earning more of Reiss' scorn.

"Myra," she turned to her daughter, the apple of her eye, and often thorn in her side. Those mischievous green eyes blinked and focused on her. "How many of your friends here know who your father is?"

Her daughter snorted and pointed at the crowd currently trying to place stickers to Alistair's nails, "All of 'em. Duh."

"That isn't what I meant," Reiss narrowed her eyes on her daughter. It was surprising how few people would recognize their King outside of the castle walls and with a half-blood child skipping around him. Many of these children's parents were elven or so poor they had to live in the alienage. If any of them learned that their child covered the King's toes in sparkly purple nail polish and then topped it off with a happy face sticker, they'd probably have a heart attack on the spot. It was a fact Reiss was often trying to drill through her daughter's particularly obstinate skull.

Myra shrugged, "It doesn't matter." Sure, to her it didn't. She knew him as Dad; even when he was sitting on the throne, she was the only one who could run up to the man and cover him in sticky stains. To the rest of Denerim, however...

"Madam Sayer," one of the girls turned to her. Juniper, quiet as a chantry mouse and respectful to the point it unnerved Reiss. "I'm hungry."

"So...?" Reiss turned on a copper and glared at her daughter. It was pitch black out, the sun having left the horizon hours ago. What in the Maker's name were all these kids still doing in the closed down agency? "Myra?" she folded her arms, "Why are your friends here?"

"I told you, we had to make Dad up for the big ball later."

"Big ball?" Reiss spun back to him, momentarily confused. As far as she knew there were no high engagements on his social calendar.

"Nothing so fancy, just a little meet and greet for the new ambassador. But," he waved his hands around at the pre-pubescent girls. Anything that involved the palace or wearing nicer clothes was equivalent to poofy dresses, clocks striking midnight, handsome princes, dancing, and losing your footwear.

Secure in the knowledge she wasn't going to have to dig out her finery or find something for Myra who kept growing like a weed, Reiss turned back to her daughter. "Smart," she had to compliment her even as she swallowed the "ass" while staring at her bright daughter. Too much time surrounded by professional criminals, when it came to answering her mother's questions she always only gave the bare minimum in order to never incriminate herself.

Myra barely smiled at that, used to pulling one over on Reiss every chance she could. Andraste guide her for when the true teenage years hit. "But," Reiss pointed to the girls, "why have your friends not returned home?"

"Because..." Myra danced back and forth on her toes before spitting out fast, "they were going to stay for a slumber party."

"A what?!" Reiss hissed. All the girls cowered, hooded eyes shooting to their ringleader. Even Myra gulped, well aware that she had to run these things by her mother.

"Dad said I could, and Lunet. I asked them and they said it was okay. So you can't go back on it. It's Sayer law."

"It is not bloody Sayer law for you to go through the weak link in the armor in order to get your way," Reiss snarled at her daughter.

Behind her she heard her turncoat husband snort, "Well..." At her glare, he shrugged, "Are you really gonna say that's not your family motto? Because from what I've seen..."

"Alistair, you are not helping. And you, young lady--"

"Mom, it's dark already. Right? And all their parents said it was fine for them to stay."

"Of course they did, they get a free night of babysitting," Reiss growled to herself.

"So, are you saying you want to spend the entire night walking all my friends back home to make sure they're safe? Or are you going to let all of us poor, helpless kids run through the dangerous streets without any supervision and hope they all make it back safe and sound?"

Blighted hell! How was she cursed with such a cunning child? She knew to ask her father, because it was her easy going, doesn't think things through father. She also knew to wait until Reiss wasn't due back until after dark in order to felicitate her plan. Unfolding her arms, Reiss had to admit when she was beat.

"Fine, they can stay." The girls clapped, their enthusiasm snapping back in an instant. Reiss leaned into Myra and hissed, "But if you ever try to go behind my back again, you're grounded for a month."

"Kay Mom," she nodded wildly, the threat of the future punishment nothing compared to the promise of a potential sleepover with all her friends.

Reiss eyed up Lunet still sitting in the corner with a sly turn to her lips. "Since you approved this without me, I see no reason why you can't stay and help."

"Ah, shit," Lunet cursed to herself, before blanching at the ten little ears listening in. But these weren't the cultured ladies of the palace district. Myra's friends at home were all weened on the streets, none of them blinking an eye at an adult's swearing. No doubt they probably knew even better ones by age five.

"My," one of the girls asked, "what do we do next?"

Her daughter put a finger to her chin and she gazed upward. Reiss could feel Alistair's glittery stare at the move. He was always insisting Myra picked it up from her, but she couldn't see it. There was far too much of her father in there for starters. Rolling her eyes, Reiss slotted in beside the man still trapped in a chair thanks to the seven year old kidnappers surrounding him.

"Let's go raid the bakery next door!"

"Myra!" Reiss sniped at her daughter.

"What?" she rolled her eyes, "Old Man Titer's always saying I can stop by whenever for free food. Ooh, I bet he's got bearclaws the size of your heads."

Alistair flinched, "Ugh, I still walk funny after fighting that one bear with paws like this." He held his hands out extended a good foot in width.

His loving, sweet daughter rolled her eyes and sighed, "Whatever, Dad."

Maker, it was going to be a long slog to eighteen. Reiss could already hear a bottle of wine calling her name from the secret stash. After having given her order, Myra turned to the gaggle she ran with. It was hard to say how many were close friends, as the top spot seemed to change with the wind, but the gang was always together. They began as adorable pig-tailed girls skipping stones to play hopscotch in the back alleys and -- with her daughter at the head -- grew into jaded, world-weary individuals. At least until something glittery, pink, fluffy, or a nonthreatening boy crossed their path. Then it was instant squeals and babbling incoherently about something amazing and cute.

The girls scattered to grab up their cloaks, most patched or barely skirting to their knees. Myra smiled as she buttoned her thicker wool one up and then grabbed onto both Ellen and Juniper's hands. One by one the girls all locked up to form their own blockade. They always stood the same, the trend being to wear bracelets made of different colored yarns that matched up with the locked hands to form a rainbow. Some parents feared it was all a secret sex code, but Reiss knew it was a simple matter of an old spinner had excess yarn to get rid of and kids, when bored, will create complicated social rules for fun.

Myra moved to lead the horde towards her friendly neighborhood baker, when Reiss spoke up, "Young lady, do you leave your house in the middle of the night?"

"Uh..." Myra spun back from the darkened agency. Reiss could see the smart ass answer of 'if I can get away with it' bobbing in her green eyes, but the child was wise enough to keep it held back. "No, I guess not."

"Lune," Reiss turned to the least adult grown up left, "go with them."

Her daughter smiled wider, happy to have her sometimes accomplice along. The fun aunt was much better than some stodgy old Mother technically related to her. Lunet placed her bottle down and got to her legs, "Alright, but I get the first bearclaw. Or anything with cherry inside."

As the brood of girls and one adult who should know better slipped into the agency, singing songs at the top of their lungs, Reiss turned to the man painted up like a chantry board. "What did they do to you?" she sighed, trying to wipe the star off. In the process she coated her thumb in gold glitter and smudged a side of the star across his cheek until it turned into a comet.

"I can say no to one kid, two sometimes, but you have ten little hands coming after me armed with brushes and tubes of pigments and I panic!" he flared his hands out, sending a few of the stickers flying.

"Right, I'm to pretend you didn't enjoy any of this," she sighed, sliding in closer to the man she really hoped to sample without having to worry about nearly a dozen little girls overhearing it.

Alistair's hands curled along her waist, that hauntingly pink-purple lipstick rising in a cheeky grin, "Me? Never. Though I think the blush does compliment my cheekbones well."

She tipped closer, aching to kiss him, but paused at the ghastly color. Tugging backwards, Reiss got a good grip on his hands. "Come on," she hauled him up to his grumbling feet and began to drag Alistair towards the stairs.

"Where are we going?" he twisted his head around.

"To the apartment," Reiss explained. "I'm going to clean all that mess off of you."

"Ah," he tipped his blonde head, barrettes raining down from the fine hair that couldn't support the girl's complicated updo.

Reiss spun and flattened the man into the doorway that led up to her room. As her chest knocked into his, she ran her fingers down to his hips and purred, "And then I'm going to clean the rest of you." Tugging down his head, she risked tasting that cheap-ass lipstick in order to kiss the man she loved. It stuck flat to her mouth, drying her lips like a desert wind, but Reiss didn't mind as she stared into the lustful eyes of Alistair.

He managed to knot his hands around her hips and yank her higher, wanting to go back for another kiss, when he paused. "What about the girls?"

"Please," Reiss waved it away. "It'll take them a good hour to decide what they should all get at the bakery and another one to sit and eat it." Alistair laughed at her as she tugged him upwards to her apartment to have a bit of fun before the real work began. Myra was going to be putting in extra time around the office for this round of trickery. But, Reiss' eyes darted over to the father Myra talked down for a visit to hatch her scheme, at least there were some perks for the mother.