#or rather that elizabeth had four pregnancies

[fideidefenswhore]

so where would anne, george and mary fall in the "five kids in five years" time line if he's the eldest?

hm, well, we don't know what years henry and thomas boleyn died, since the 'c.1520' seems like it was the date their brasses were made, not, obviously, the date of their deaths (both tiny tombs suggest cot deaths). "the exact date of elizabeth's marriage to thomas boleyn is unknown but her jointure was settled on her in 1501 suggesting a recent marriage some time after 1498 [...]"

so, i would think george was maybe born 1499, 1500, or 1501, mary born 1500, 1501, or 1502, and my personal theory is that anne was born either 1503 or 1504 (possibly 1505...)

*also going back to this quote ('general line rather than heirs male'), why would hunsdon have only said 'eldest daughter/sister', not 'eldest child'? the latter would arguably have given him a stronger claim, i'd assume because he knew the first was true but not the second:

"Lord Hunsdon's rather complicated account of the Boleyn titles shows that he had a good grasp of family history. Although his daughter, in her tomb memorial, stated that Mary Boleyn was the second daughter, it seems more likely that Lord Hunsdon was correct. Where the queen was his co-heir to the Boleyn title, he would have wanted to be very sure of his facts." Anne Boleyn: Henry VIII's Obsession, Elizabeth Norton

[respected-coconut]

Crazy how so many feminist readings of Frankenstein are consistently so heteronormative and lowkey sexist in it of themselves.

Like, the whole “the women of Frankenstein are boring and docile” argument, while has its amount of merit, feels more like an excuse to just further ignore and over-generalize the women in the book instead of actually trying to analyze them. Elizabeth especially is the main victim of this reading because she’s always read as the subservient woman that doesn’t have much say in the book, yet one of her most defining instances is her standing up for Justine in front of a court of law when others were too frightened to.

She literally dropped “They call this retribution. Hateful name! When that word is pronounced, I know greater and more horrid punishments are going to be inflicted than the gloomiest tyrant has ever invented to satiate his utmost revenge” and people still want to dumb her down and define her solely through her “reliance on men”.

And the whole “Victor usurped the biological/feminine power of women to give birth.” I’m sorry, but I kinda really hate this reading so bad. Not only does it read as incredibly transphobic, but at the same time it further pushes the idea that the only power/purpose a woman has is to give birth. How can you condemn Elizabeth for being “docile and subservient to men” but then turn around and say she and women are powerful through their ability to give birth and be mothers/wives? Does that imply Victor should’ve just married and impregnated his sister/cousin? Would that have “preserved Elizabeth’s power”? because it seems to me her marriage to Victor destroyed whatever power or autonomy she had. And what about how Mary Shelley herself was struggling with pregnancies and childbirth before and while writing Frankenstein? Was she a weaker woman for not being able to give birth properly?

The women in Frankenstein are obviously less active than the men, and that is a point to be made, but at the same time, we do such a disservice by making broad and disconnected assertions without actually giving the women the time of day for what they do do.

Can we talk about how Elizabeth was groomed into the role of a mother/bride since she was four? How she had dreams and wanted to “people [the world] with imaginations of her own”? How she lost hope in those dreams following the wrongful execution of her “more than sister”? What about how Caroline Frankenstein haunts the whole narrative; how her death influences Victor’s obsession with the dead and how she forced her children into an incestuous, (mutually) non-consensual relationship? Why is it so common that people will read Justine’s existence as solely a character to bring Victor guilt rather than looking deeper into how her conviction and execution affected Elizabeth’s perception of the world? Why is there so much focus placed on what these women aren’t instead of what they are?

Ok sorry for the messy ranting. Just had a burst of energy. As usual, I’m sorry for coming off as hostile and kinda confusing but at the same time I’m just a bit frustrated with the common interpretations of Frankenstein and wanted to yap. Feel free to add more ideas, I like talking abt this kinda stuff.

[anghraine]

I was just wondering with all the weirdness about Númenorian pregnancy and childhood how you think Denethor fits with this. Do you think he was considered a strange child? Was he especially ‘difficult’ for his parents? How does this in turn relate to Faramir?

Oh, interesting!

One of the finer points of the bizarre Elvish/peredhel/Númenórean pregnancies is that much of the difficulty derives from the nature of the child or children, rather than just being a characteristic of the parents. The idea is that there's something so remarkable about these people that biologically producing them involves significant physical and (especially) spiritual strain for both parents, though more for the mother.

(Thus, Fëanor drained Míriel's spirit more than Finwë's, while with Arwen in NOME, the emphasis is on the strain her power and uniqueness put on Celebrían despite Celebrían's relative youth. Even Melian bore the chief strain of producing Lúthien and was apparently like "never again, this is Too Much Materiality and Gender.")

So the logic is that the direct transmission of the parents' special qualities to the child(ren) is itself difficult, and in addition, the more exceptional the child, the greater the difficulty and impact of creating them on the biological parents.

And there are repeated suggestions that among Elves, peredhil, and on Númenor, this variable but always-present spiritual cost of producing such beings is so much a fact of life that they have established cultural institutions for accommodating the higher difficulty of reproduction among their peoples.

(Tangentially, I wonder about how relatively low reproduction rates coupled with extremely low child mortality rates would operate culturally on Númenor itself ... like, are there orphanages? Is there a need for them when disease and even injury are so rare, lifespans so long, medicine so sophisticated, and children so valuable?)

But anyway, Denethor! The point of all this is that I suspect this variable spiritual/physical strain on the parents, beyond the natural strain of childbirth, would have somewhat diminished by the late Third Age. But it's pretty clear from LOTR that there are still distinctive qualities being consistently transmitted to Númenórean children from their parents, and thus the strain of Númenórean reproduction would still occur.

We know, for instance, that Denethor showing signs of old age in his 60s struck Gandalf as alarming for any Gondorian Dúnadan, though particularly one from Denethor's family. But it would be unusual anyway; it's not just that Denethor is uniquely strange, though he's certainly exceptional (Gandalf: "He is not as other men of this time" / Appendices: "a proud man, tall, valiant, and more kingly than any man that had appeared in Gondor for many lives of men").

Tolkien also explains Gandalf's "whatever be his descent from father to son" remark about Denethor as indicating that Gandalf doesn't know the particulars of the Stewards' genealogy but he can tell they're Elrosian. Imrahil's Númenórean-Silvan ancestry is also extremely visible to Legolas, who similarly doesn't know their family history but can see the sort of imprint of it on Imrahil (and now I'm thinking about Legolas's struggle with sea-longing, his rapport with the distinctly Elvish Imrahil, and Imrahil's sister longing for the sea...).

Okay, Elizabeth, focus. The point of all this is that you'd expect a certain difficulty with the gestation and delivery of ANY Gondorian Dúnadan even this late, and we continue to see the characteristic small families and general signs of Númenórean low fertility/low mortality. But Denethor is a markedly unusual child even by these standards. And he's implied to be the third of either three or four children, but is pretty clearly the only one who is that weird in his family, and possibly in the entire country, when he's young.

(The potential fourth child, a younger brother, is so comprehensively out of the picture by the WOTR that I suspect he was retconned out, but theoretically he could have been killed in battle without having children, or might be ineligible for war and inheritance for some other reason. To me it makes the most sense that he was retconned out, leaving Denethor as "the baby," but sometimes I imagine the younger brother does exist, and has a disability that keeps him out of both war and the succession according to the practices of Númenórean elites. I could believe that Gondorians would suspect that something "went wrong" with Denethor's brother specifically because Denethor is so exceptional, etc.)

I think Denethor being, in Tolkien's phrase, "almost purely Númenórean" would ensure that he seems normal by the standards of Gondorian Dúnedain at birth, but soon would head into full uncanny valley Númenórean child vibes (per NOME). On Númenor, there's a cultural expectation of children just being like that, but I suspect it would not be normal at this point, at least not to nearly so great a degree. And since Denethor is the third child, the contrast with the two older ones would make it all the clearer that something different is going on with him.

For all of Gondor's records, I suspect there's a lot about ye olde Númenóreans that has simply been lost by this point. I imagine Denethor became ultra-learned in lore both for its own sake, and to understand his own experience of the world, which would only diverge more and more markedly from other people's as he grew older. There's a lot of knowledge that simply has never been recovered and he would have had to figure much of it out by sheer strength of will.

I imagine that Denethor's parents, older sisters, and caretakers did love him, but he was strange and off-putting, and they couldn't give him ... it feels very therapy-speak-ish to say "scaffolding." But there used to be a common framework for understanding the development of Númenórean children as they once were that has largely dissolved. I think the people around young Denethor did their best, but it wasn't enough for anyone concerned.

It's come up a few times on my blog that when it comes to the "powers of mind" type of Númenórean abilities, it's a bit difficult to compare Aragorn with Denethor and Faramir, because Aragorn is so much subtler and more adaptable. He can turn the eldritch strangeness off and pass unnoticed when he wants to. Denethor and Faramir's own eldritch strangeness may not be as "remote," but with them it seems like it's always on and there's no missing them or their capabilities when they're present.

Maybe this just has to do with the particular abilities they favor, the bleedover of temperament and nature, etc. But it's also possible that part of the unobtrusiveness of Aragorn when he wants to be vs Denethor and Faramir's neon "Númenórean" sign blinking at all times is that Denethor and Faramir weren't raised by Elrond amidst a community of Elves who would be familiar with both a long line of Elrosian Númenórean children and with the oddities (and even cultural protocols) that Númenóreans mostly share with Elves in the first place, even if the pace is different.

But Denethor and Faramir have never been normal in their context. There was no Elrond for them. And while young Faramir at least had Denethor himself to instruct him and perhaps even model Númenóreanness for him, however fraught that instruction may have been, it's possible that Denethor didn't really have anyone at all.

(The fact that Denethor married late and specifically married and dearly loved the Elvish-coded sister of notable Weird Cool Guy Imrahil seems perhaps significant.)

I think that while Denethor values his own abilities and is very proud of who and what he is, this experience of the world would have been incredibly isolating even amidst the oddities of Gondorian Dúnedain in general. I suspect Gandalf is actually spot-on when he says that Denethor loved Boromir all the more because Boromir was unlike him. I also suspect it would be clear quite early, especially to Denethor and Finduilas themselves, that Boromir was very different—the "strain" would have been fairly light.

(Boromir is distinguished not only from the high-octane Númenóreanness of Denethor and Faramir and even Imrahil, but from Gondorian cultural norms in general. He is a Dúnadan without question, but as a "type" he has more in common with the Rohirrim and seems to have an especially strong rapport with them.)

I also suspect that if Faramir had been born first, he might well have been an only child. As it is, the actual process of his gestation and birth was likely an ordeal for Denethor and Finduilas to begin with, even if her physical health was not in question at the time (which I actually presume, given that she lived for five more years and her early death is in no way attributed to Faramir ever). But Denethor would have known from early on that Faramir is special in the way that he himself is special, that the weird isolating experience he's had, that it was such a relief to see Boromir spared from, will happen to Faramir. And I'm guessing they also would have understood that Faramir being so exceptional ensured there would be no other children.

Sometimes I wonder if Denethor's knowledge of the experience Faramir was facing actually contributed to their fraught relationship. He could be about as normal a parental figure to Boromir as the ruler of a desperate nation could ever be to his heir. He could have something that looked like the lives of other people in that specific context. But his relationship with Faramir was never going to be normal, could never be.

There was probably a really peculiar period for Boromir and Faramir as brothers when Boromir was maturing normally while Faramir was the weird kid absorbing information from lore, from Denethor, from true-dreams, from other people's minds. I can even imagine that the young Boromir's role as "protector" of Faramir was not just his powerful elder sibling energy but related to child Faramir being genuinely strange. But by this time there would at least be a framework for understanding Faramir's development and more bizarre qualities—he's like Denethor, oh, okay. Any way that he's not like Denethor could probably be attributed to Finduilas's own peculiarities.

The tension between Denethor and Faramir is so profoundly shaped by their commonalities despite their somewhat different philosophical conclusions etc that it's difficult not to see that as a factor. They love each other and resent each other and see through each other in some ways but not the basic fact of their mutual love. Denethor is anxious about Gandalf stealing Faramir's love and loyalty from him while Faramir likes Gandalf but presents his influence as distinctly minor and calls for Denethor as he's dying, etc. They're two of the most Númenórean people alive and their perspectives on Númenor, Gondor, the war, their political situation in general are extremely shaped by it.

But I kind of wonder if Denethor also saw a bit of Thorongil in Faramir—someone akin to him, with such strikingly similar abilities and appearance, who even thinks similarly to him in many ways, but whose circumstances ensure he's always had a context and framework for understanding why he's so different and guidance in handling it. Yes, it's Denethor's choice to provide that guidance, but still, it does mean that Faramir is never quite as isolated as the young Denethor likely was.

To us it can seem obvious that Ecthelion's favoritism of Thorongil above even Denethor is unconsciously replicated by Denethor with his own sons (with Boromir as "the Thorongil" and Faramir as "the Denethor" to Denethor's Ecthelion). But I suspect it looks very different to Denethor.

[mikaela-granger]

The Long Wait (Season 4) Chapter 3

Octopus Head

Fandom: Grimm

Pairing: Sean Renard/OFC

The Long Wait Masterlist

A/N: Sean and Lorelei begin their road to recovery.

***Elizabeth’s POV***

The past twenty-four hours had been a rollercoaster of emotions for Elizabeth Lascelles. As she waited for the car to take her to the airport, she had been excited at the prospect of seeing her only son for the first time in over a decade and meeting her daughter-in-law and granddaughter in person for the first time. They were not expecting her to arrive so soon, however after she found out that her granddaughter had been born prematurely, Elizabeth had rearranged her plans to arrive sooner. Then she had received a call from Lorelei’s phone. Answering it, she had found out it was not her daughter-in-law, rather a Detective Hank Griffin, a man who worked under her son in the Portland Police Department. Through him, she had found out her son had been shot and was on deaths door. The pain she had experienced at the thought of her son dying was unlike any she had experienced before. After obtaining one last item to add to her luggage, Elizabeth had gotten into the waiting car and headed to the airport.

The trip was wrought with worry and fear. For her son, for her granddaughter, and for her daughter-in-law. Elizabeth knew the pain of losing one’s soulmate, and it was not something she wanted her daughter-in-law to experience. Lorelei seemed to be a wonderful woman, perfect for her son. Despite being a Grimm, Elizabeth had been eager to meet the woman who had made her son so happy. And now, if Elizabeth did not arrive in time, the sweet girl would experience the pain Elizabeth was only too familiar with. It had been almost five decades since she lost her beloved, and she still felt that pain every day. Furthermore, Elizabeth had been concerned about the physical impact Sean’s potential death could have on Lorelei, who had already been weakened during her pregnancy. It was rare, but there were some soulmates with a connection so strong that the death of one could lead to the death of the other. If children were involved, the other did live however it was a half-life. Elizabeth had a strong feeling that Sean and Lorelei’s connection was that strong.

Elizabeth had her driver drop her at the hospital. Walking speedily through the hospital, she had arrived at her son’s room, just as he was dying. Freezing the doctors in the room, Elizabeth had rushed forward, acting speedily to return her son to the land of the living. After she had recovered, made sure her son was alright, Elizabeth had gone looking for her daughter-in-law and granddaughter. She knew they were close by, having called Lorelei’s phone as soon as she arrived in Portland. A woman, identifying herself as Angela, a friend of Lorelei’s had informed her that Lorelei was unwell herself. Admitted the evening before, it seemed the issues that had plagued Lorelei throughout her pregnancy had followed her into the postpartum period.

When Elizabeth had asked a nurse about Lorelei, a look of recognition crossed her face, and she had led Elizabeth to a room down the hall from Sean’s. She spotted an older woman pacing the hall outside, a tiny baby in her arms. As Elizabeth arrived at the room, a doctor stepped out and addressed the other woman.

“She seems to be stable for now. I’m not exactly sure of the cause, but her heart stopped. We were able to restart it. We are still waiting on the results of the tests we did earlier and will be conducting more to determine what is going on.”

The nurse leading Elizabeth addressed the doctor, introducing Elizabeth as Lorelei’s mother-in-law. The woman, she later found out was Angela, looked at her cautiously. Elizabeth could tell she was wesen. It seemed most of Lorelei and her brother’s friends were wesen from what she had been told. The doctor informed both women that Lorelei was conscious, if not very fatigued and disorientated. After checking on Lorelei, Elizabeth was able to hold her granddaughter for the first time. As she looked down at her precious little Olivia, she felt a love she had not felt before. She was a grandmother.

Elizabeth had sent Angela home, thanking her for looking out for Lorelei and Olivia, but she was here now and would take care of her family. Once the other woman had left, Elizabeth had approached Lorelei. She reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. Lorelei’s eyes fluttered open. “Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth smiled at her. “Yes. I am here now. All will be well.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Sean?”

“He is alive. And he will be staying that way. Now, rest my darling.” She said, gently stroking her hair before placing a kiss on her forehead.

Lorelei’s eyes fluttered closed and she fell into a more peaceful sleep. Satisfied that her daughter-in-law would be safe for now, and after informing the nurse where to find her, Elizabeth returned to her son’s room.

***Sean’s POV***

Everything hurts. Was the first thing Sean thought as he drifted back into consciousness. Where are Lorelei and Olivia? Are they safe? Were his next thoughts.

As he opened his eyes, he realised that he was in a hospital room. Glancing around, his eyes fell on a familiar back, golden hair bathed in the light from the window. It hadn’t been a dream. His mother was really here. “You’re really here.” He commented, his voice thick.

She slowly turned around, a relieved smile crossing her face as she stepped towards him. Sean’s gaze moved down to the little bundle in her arms. The smile on his face widened. “Olivia.” He breathed, happy to see his youngest daughter safe and well. His smile dropped slightly, realising someone was missing. “Where’s Lorelei?”

His mother reached out, gently smoothing his hair with her free hand. “Having a much-needed rest, while I bond with my granddaughter.” She told him softly.

“Is she ok?”

His mother nodded. “Now that she knows you are doing to be alright.”

Sean nodded. He sighed. “I wasn’t sure if it was a dream. You being here.” He hadn’t seen his mother for well over a decade. It was wonderful to see her in person again.

“I’m just glad I made it in time.” She said, her hand coming to cup his cheek.

Sean felt tears prickle his eyes as he called how he ended up here. “I was dead.” He said quietly.

“For a moment.” He had died. Almost leaving his soulmate and child behind forever.

“I suppose that’s the second time you’ve given me life.”

His mother’s smile widened. “It hurt a lot more the first time.” She told him. He returned her smile. “Who did this to you?”

Sean swallowed before answering. “Weston Steward.” He took in a breath, feeling pain in his chest. “A hundjager working with the Royal Family.”

“The family again. Will they never leave us alone?”

“No.” Sean told her, feeling angry. It had been over forty years, and they were still coming after them. And now Sean had dragged his soulmate and children into it.

“I would like very much to meet this, Weston Steward.”

A thought occurred to Sean. “I just remembered, I was supposed to give something very important to Nick Burkhardt. He’s Lorelei’s brother, the other Grimm I told you about.” Sean tried to sit up. “I need to speak to him.”

His mother gently pushed him back down. “You are not doing anything, except getting better.” She told him.

“You don’t understand. Adalind was with him.” He said looking up at her.

“Adalind, Catherine’s daughter?”

“Yes. She used the Verfluchte Zwillingsschwester.” Her eyes widened slightly. “There’s also one more thing, there is another child, a girl.”

She looked at him in confusion. “Who’s child?”

“Adalinds…and mine.”

His mothers eyes widened again, before a small smile crossed her face. “So, I have two granddaughters?” She said, glancing down at the one in her arms before looking back at him.

“Not that you look like a grandmother.” He said smiling, although he wondered what his mother’s reaction would be when she heard that not only was her eldest granddaughter conceived as a result of him being unfaithful to his soulmate, but that she would not be able to meet her.

His mother chuckled. “When do I get to see my eldest granddaughter?”

The smile disappeared from his face. He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

That particular conversation with his mother was uncomfortable. Telling her about his unfaithfulness and then giving away Diana. Regarding his unfaithful behaviour towards his soulmate, this was only the second time he had verbalised his actions. His mother had been extremely surprised to hear that he had cheated on Lorelei with Adalind. And had admonished him about it. Even though this was her first time meeting Lorelei in person, over the past few months, he knew his mother had come to adore his soulmate, as much as he did. Describing giving up Diana; this was also one of the only times had had talked about it. He told his mother the same story he and the others had told Adalind and Lorelei. However, his mother didn’t seem to believe it.

“If I hadn’t of given her to Viktor, he would have killed me... and you. ” Sean explained to her. By now, he felt well enough to be seated. His youngest daughter in his arms.

His mother looked sceptical. “So, you had no choice but to give my eldest granddaughter to the Royals?” He looked down, avoiding her gaze. “I know you better than that. You wouldn’t have given her to Viktor but giving her to the Resistance…wouldn’t have guaranteed her safety, either.” He looked back up at her. “However, it would be advantageous if the Royals thought the Resistance had her.” A smile crossed her face. “Are you gonna tell me where she really is?”

Sean sighed. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “But she’s with someone who owes allegiance to no one.”

They were interrupted by a knock at the door, and a nurse stepped in. “Sorry to interrupt. But Lorelei is awake and insisting on seeing her soulmate and daughter. She is becoming quite agitated and trying to get out of bed.”

His mother sighed. “Is she well enough to be brought down here?” She asked the nurse. Sean looked at her in surprise. Well enough? Sean thought Lorelei was simply resting, was something wrong?

“She is stable, and I suppose as long as she doesn’t walk. But I might check with the doctor.”

“You do that.”

As the nurse left, Sean returned his attention to his mother. “What’s going? What does the nurse mean by stable? I thought you said she was resting.”

“She is resting. However, from what I’ve ascertained, Lorelei was admitted last night due to high blood pressure.” She told him slowly; he went to speak but she stopped him. “Your Detective Griffin seems to have arranged for her to be admitted on this floor. The doctors have been running tests all day. From what I’ve been told they suspect it is postpartum preeclampsia that has…led to complications.”

Sean and Lorelei had been warned about postpartum preeclampsia. Although Lorelei’s blood pressure had significantly dropped, she was still being treated for high blood pressure. They were told to keep an eye out for a return of preeclampsia symptoms. However, Lorelei had been fine; better than she had felt in weeks. “What kind of complications?” He asked suspiciously, holding his daughter closer to his body.

Mother sighed. “From what I have been told, preliminary tests indicate some form of cardiomyopathy and fluid in her lungs. They are concerned about her heart.”

Sean stared at his mother. “I have a feeling there is something else you aren’t telling me.”

She sighed again. “I was informed that…around the same time that you…died.” She let out a steadying breath. “Lorelei’s heart stopped.” She held up her hand to stop him from talking. “They got it started again. For now, they have her on oxygen, medication to control her blood pressure and some other medications.”

Sean swallowed thickly, as tears once again prickled his eyes. He glanced down at Olivia. His daughter could have lost both her parents in one day, effectively becoming an orphan. What if he had survived and Lorelei hadn’t? How would he have lived without her? At that moment there was a knock on the door, and a nurse entered pushing Lorelei in a wheelchair. Although Lorelei was pale, with a nasal cannula and leads and cords attached to her, Sean felt relief when he saw her, glad that she appeared well enough to at least be out of bed. He saw similar relief reflected in her eyes.

“Sean.” His soulmate said, her voice a little breathless. The nurse pushed the wheelchair as close to him as possible and locked the wheels before slipping out of the room. His mother took Olivia from his arms and mentioned something about giving them some time alone before also leaving. Sean reached his hand out to Lorelei, and she grabbed it tightly, bringing it to her lips. “I’m so glad you’re ok.” She said, her beautiful eyes filled with tears. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Sean swallowed again as a lump formed in his throat. “I’m not going anywhere. You are stuck with me.” Lorelei gave a tearful laugh. Their hands were intertwined on the bed, and she had moved to rest her cheek on them. “Mother told me you weren’t well. What happened?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been fine all week. And then, I wasn’t. I don’t really know what’s going on. Everything is a blur. The doctors are worried about my heart and my lungs.” She said, looking up at him from where her head was resting.

God, he wanted her in his arms. But right now, that wasn’t an option. All he could do was squeeze her hand. From the look in her eyes, she felt the same way. Her next words did shock him somewhat. “I want to get married. The sooner, the better. Even if it’s a ceremony at City Hall. Preferably before your mother leaves.”

“Are you sure?”

Lorelei nodded, sitting up. “I am. I just want to be your wife.”

Sean’s chest and throat tightened again; this time due to the love he felt for the woman before him. He squeezed her hand. “Ok. But not City Hall. You deserve a beautiful ceremony with your family. It doesn’t have to be big. Something small.”

His mother returned shortly after and was ecstatic when she heard they had plans to get married almost immediately after they were discharged from hospital. She was looking forward to planning. Sean made her promise that she would not go overboard. Sean’s doctor arrived, marvelling at how quickly Sean seemed to be recovering. Considering he had died. Just as Sean’s doctor was leaving, Lorelei’s arrived.

“Hello Lorelei. How are you feeling?”

Lorelei shrugged. “Much better than I felt earlier. Have you figured out what is wrong with me?”

The doctor nodded. “I have. Looking at your test results and after consulting with cardiology, pulmonology, and obstetrics, we have reached a diagnosis. Postpartum preeclampsia, which I am sure you are already familiar with. You also have peripartum cardiomyopathy or PPCM and cardiogenic pulmonary edema.”

“And what exactly are they? Are they treatable?” Sean asked, squeezing Lorelei’s hand.

“Both conditions are treatable with high rates of recovery. Especially since we caught them so early.” The doctor advised them. “PPCM is an uncommon form of heart failure that can occur in late pregnancy or post-delivery. It is typically diagnosed when no other cause of heart failure can be found. Think of it as heart muscle weakness.  However, many can recover normal heart function within the first three to six months of treatment.”

“Ok.” Lorelei said slowly, mulling over the information. “And the pulmonary edema?”

“Pulmonary edema is caused when there is too much fluid in the lungs and in most cases can be caused by heart problems. Which appears to be true in your case.

“But she’ll recover?” Mother asked, looking concerned.

“She will. Her oxygen levels have greatly increased thanks to the nasal cannula. Now, she won’t be completely well by the end of the week. It will take some time, and quite the cocktail of medications, but there is no reason to believe she won’t.”

“Will this impact my ability to have children in the future?”

Sean looked at her in surprise. “Planning more children already?”

Lorelei looked at him. “Well, you aren’t getting any younger.” She said with a shit eating grin.

Sean rolled his eyes before looking back at the doctor expectantly. “Well, I would hold off on trying for a while. Your body needs to recover from the pregnancy, c-section and your more recent diagnoses. I’d recommend at least a year and discuss it with your doctors before trying.”

Lorelei nodded. “Ok. And when can I go home?”

The doctor laughed. “How about we wait a few days and see how your doing? And then we can evaluate going home.”

After her doctor left, Sean could see Lorelei’s energy was wavering, so he insisted she returned to her room to rest. His mother suggested they keep Olivia with them for the time being and she would return her to Lorelei’s room before she left. Lorelei agreed and the nurse returned her to her room.

Sean sighed. Although he was tired himself, he was concerned about Lorelei. He would always be concerned about Lorelei. “You heard the doctor. She will recover.”

“I know.” He said with another sigh. His mother gave his arm a squeeze.

Sometime close to 8pm, as his mother was returning Olivia to Lorelei before she left, Nick and Hank arrived to check up on both Lorelei and himself. “Hey Captain.” Hank said as they entered the room.

He smiled at them. “It’s good to see you guys.”

“You too.” Nick told him. Sean noticed that the older Grimm, his future brother-in-law, was a little melancholy.

“You’re looking pretty good for a guy who’s been through what you’ve been through.” Hank commented.

“How are you feeling?” Nick asked.

Sean cleared his throat. “Better than I was.” He looked at Nick. “Listen, Nick, did you get what I brought to your house for you?”

Nick shook his head. “No. It’s gone.” Sean stared at him. Nick let out a breath. “I’m not a Grimm anymore.”

Sean sighed, briefly closing his eyes before returning his gaze to Nick. “Oh Nick. I’m sorry…I…I tried.”

“I know. We can talk about this when you’re feeling a little stronger.”

“I should have known what Adalind was up to.” Sean sighed again. “I’m just glad Trubel knew how to handle a machete. I owe her.”

Nick nodded. “Well. I’m just glad you’re still here.” And Sean could tell that he did mean it.

“So am I.” The three of them looked to the door, where his mother had just entered.

“Detectives Burkhardt and Griffin, this is Elizabeth Lascelles. My mother.”

The surprise on his detectives’ faces was not well hidden. Sean did find it somewhat amusing. “Oh.” Hank said after a moment.

“Hi.” Nick added. No doubt he realised he was facing another hexenbiest.

“She’s had a lot of work done.” He told them, trying to fight off the smirk.

“You must be Lorelei’s brother. She speaks highly of you.” Mother told Nick. “I was just in with her and Olivia, if you were looking to visit with them. Lorelei was just starting to feed Olivia.”

He nodded. “I am. We were actually going to stop in on her next.” Nick said, glancing at Sean. “How is she?”

Sean sighed. “Better than she was earlier.”

“Did the doctors figure out what was wrong? Is it that preeclampsia thing?” Hank asked.

“Among other things. Her conditions are treatable and recoverable, but it will take time.” Sean told them.

“Conditions?” Hank queried, looking concerned.

Sean nodded. “Peripartum cardiomyopathy and cardiogenic pulmonary edema.”

“And what does that mean?” Nick asked slowly.

“Basically, heart muscle weakness and fluid on the lungs.” Sean summed up; he’d leave it to Lorelei to explain it if they had more questions. “But with time and medication, she should make a full recovery.”

***Lorelei’s POV***

“Knock knock.”

Lorelei looked up to see her brother and Hank entering her hospital room. “Hey guys. What brings you to my neck of the wood?”

“Just checking in on you. And the Captain. You are looking a lot better.” Hank said, as he stood at the end of her bed. Nick coming to stand beside her.

“I am feeling better. Still like crap. But definitely better.” She said, smiling up at them.

“Renard…uh, Sean was giving us a run down what the doctors said is wrong.” Nick told her. Hmm, Nick had never referred to Sean by his first name before. Guess Sean almost dying was bringing her brother around. “How are you feeling about that?”

Lorelei shrugged. “Not much I can do about it. It does mean I’ll still have healing to do after my c-section is all healed. So, that means I’m still going to have to take it easy. Apart from research, I won’t be able to help you out with anything wesen related for quite some time.”

As she was looking down at Olivia, she missed the look exchanged between the men. “Don’t worry about that. Just focus on you and the baby. We’ll survive.” Nick said.

“I do have some other news though.” Lorelei told them. “Sean and I will probably be getting married quite soon. After everything, I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Hank raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? When are you gonna do that?”

Lorelei shrugged. “Not sure. Probably after Monroe and Rosalee get back from their honeymoon.” Again, a look was exchanged between the men, but Lorelei didn’t notice.

“Well, I look forward to it. Let us know and we’ll be there.”

A/N:  I did move the conversation between Sean and Elizabeth about Diana to this chapter. In the series, in was in episode 3, about a day after Sean woke up. Which makes no sense, as why would he wait so long before telling her. So, I moved it here. Also, because of everything she went through, Lorelei’s kind of forgotten that Nick lost his powers. She won’t be in the dark for long.

Finally, Sean and Lorelei will be getting married in Chapter 8. If any one has any ideas for their vows, please comment along with a name for their celebrant.

Next Part

Taglist: @zoexme, @nu1freakshow, @star-yawnznn, @bella250

Banner by @cafekitsune

[funtomfactory]

Sebastian x F!Reader - The Undiscovered world, intro

So I had this random draft in my head all of a sudden, and I decided to write it down for some laughs. Let me know if you actually want me to continue this.

You loved visiting the Phantomhive manor. Its lavish decorations and countless corridors filled with adventure had filled your days with fun in the past. Getting chased around the grounds by the maids trying to catch you before you’d get sick of the chilly weather, helping the pastry chef bake some cookies or dance around its big ballroom by yourself. But the most happy times would be when your uncle Vincent actually made an effort to amuse you on his work breaks. He would teach you all sorts of games and even let you ride horseback on some occasions, despite the many disputes it would cause with your aunt Francis, who would rather see you practise to become a real lady. When a day of etiquette teaching by either her or the governess tired you out, uncle Vincent would be there again, tickling you with the navy coloured drapings around your four poster guest bed, while you got tucked in for the night. He would sit down in a bedside chair, and read from a “special bedtime story book” as he called it. Most of the stories were fairy tales, filled with wicked witches and silly gnomes. Uncle Vincent would make up voices for all of them while reading. You would fall asleep as he turned page after page, content with your life. At some point, uncle Vincent had met your aunt Rachel, and within no time, she became his wife. She was a kind woman. You dreamt of looking just as pretty as she did on her wedding day. 

Of course you had known that Vincent wasn’t really your uncle. Your father, Chlaus, was merely an informant for Lord Phantomhive; the queen’s watchdog. But he had met you and your mother before, and instantly took a liking to you. He allowed you to stay at the manor as your mother unfortunately passed away from illness while your dad was still out travelling the world for his work. The loss of your mother had made him even more focused on his duties. It saddened you greatly, but the Phantomhive household did its best to cheer you up and make you forget your mishaps, and it worked. Then one day, uncle Vincent brought you the news during breakfast. “Auntie Rachel is pregnant!” You beamed at the news. It would be wonderful to see your favourite uncle and aunt have a child. You imagined it being just as adorable as aunt Francis’ baby Elizabeth. “That’s wonderful news!” You exclaimed. Uncle Vincent smiled at you. “Yes, although there’s also a little flipside to the joy…” You blinked as uncle Vincent told you that auntie Rachel needed her rest, and that their focus would be on keeping her well during the pregnancy. “I have had a word with your father, and he agreed on picking you up this afternoon. You’re old enough now to travel with him.” You felt a small drop in your stomach, but you didn’t want to show your disappointment. Saying goodbye to the manor you’ve grown accustomed to would be hard, but you were also eager to see your father again, and even more eager to go on adventures together. “When will my father arrive?” You asked. “Around three o’clock,” uncle Vincent answered. “You’ll have plenty of time to pack your belongings after breakfast.” You nodded in agreement. After breakfast, the rest of the morning flew by in an instant and before you knew it, a servant called out to you in the drawing room, letting you know that your father had arrived. He had lots of presents for both you and your aunt and uncle, and of course also lots of stories to tell. By the time he was done it was evening. Because it was your farewell dinner, the cook had put in extra effort to serve out a true feast. The four of you ate together and soon it was time to say goodbye. “Take care on the road now,” uncle Vincent told you. “I will,” you said as you smiled and hugged him one last time. You bid farewell to your auntie and then clambered inside the carriage, followed by your father. He knocked on the roof and the horses sped away into the night. You kept looking out of the window until the lights behind the windows of the Phantomhive manor were out of sight. 

Time passed as you and your father experienced the world together. You travelled from Europe to Asia and from Asia to the States. You learned a lot and grew a little too. It was now December and the day that auntie Rachel would give birth was getting nearer. You had just arrived back in England when a footman brought you and your father the news. Your auntie had given birth to identical twin boys. You rushed over to the Phantomhive manor, excited to meet the new babies. They were absolutely the cutest thing you had ever seen. Your auntie handed them over to you one by one and told you their names. You had brought gifts for the newborns, but was surprised to see that your uncle, now a proud father, also had a gift for you. You unwrapped the paper with a confused expression, and a familiar book fell onto your lap. “You used to read me fairytales from this book before going to bed…” You slowly said as you turned the book around in your hands. You could see a few marks that indicated that the book had been thoroughly used and read. “And that’s why I’m giving it to you. This is your book now. I hope that you can someday read them to the twins when they’re old enough to hear them at bedtime just like I read them to you,” uncle Vincent said as he smiled. You held the book to your chest and beamed. 

December turned into the new year and soon the seasons changed again. You watched the twins grow from afar, and then even closer, as your father had determined that you were now old enough to stay at the downtown family home on your own while he was away. You visited the Phantomhives on many occasions, playing with the twins and reminiscing about old times with the servants. You also kept your promise and read a lot to the twins, though they wouldn’t always agree on what story they wanted to hear. “Read the one about the boy that runs through the woods!” One of them would shout. “We heard that one the last time, I want something else,” the other would complain.

This was life for a while, and you enjoyed it. Sometimes, you would visit at the same moment as aunt Francis. She went from hammering on about your lessons to hammering about your choice of a fiancé. “It’s about time you’d find a suitable partner. I would even suggest my own son Edward. That way you would truly become part of the family.” But your mind wasn’t occupied with being tied into marriage at all. Instead, you wished to keep travelling and discovering all there was to see in the world alongside your father. And then return after a while to visit the Phantomhive manor, which felt more like a second home.

Suddenly, tragedy struck. One fateful night, the night of the twins’ birthday nonetheless, the Phantomhive manor was set ablaze. From the looks of it, Mr. Tanaka would be the sole survivor. Your aunt and uncle were found horribly murdered and reduced to ashes. The fate of the twins was uncertain, but it was highly unlikely that they had survived. Grief stricken, you refused to go outside any more. You spent your days locked in your room, feeling empty, salty tears running down your face. Your father and aunt Francis would try to console you, but you felt akin to Elizabeth, who hadn’t stopped sniffing since the funeral. She had lost her fiancé, Ciel Phantomhive. Then, as if lightning struck from clear skies, That very same Ciel Phantomhive had returned. You couldn’t believe your ears when Elizabeth herself told you about the resurrection of the Phantomhive family. But there was a hint of sadness in her voice still. “Ciel… He’s not the same. He won’t tell what happened in the time he was gone, but… Something has changed…” Her description of the situation made you unsure if you wanted to meet this new and changed Ciel. He was your cousin and you loved him with all your heart, but you didn’t know if you’d be able to stand facing the facts that the rest of them were truly gone and that only this scarred child remained. Nevertheless, one afternoon your father convinced you to come on a trip to the manor, claiming the young Ciel was now the Earl of Phantomhive, and thus had business to discuss with him. You felt a twinge of nervousness as the carriage halted in front of the manor. You blinked in disbelief. Your father gazed at you with a look of amusement. “I didn’t believe it the first time I saw it either, but it has been restored to its exact former glory. Impressive, isn’t it?” You were shaken from your stare as the coachman opened the carriage door. You followed your father up the steps to the double entrance doors. He knocked three times, and the door swung open, revealing the most handsome, black haired male you had ever seen in your life.

[draslihanxfahri-bailey]

From the moment he showed up to help decorate, she felt her heart ache. Alex's birthday was emotional for a variety of reasons: The first, obviously, over the desire for their daughter to remain little for as long as possible; The second, however, was the reminder of those years before Atlas and Alex were brought together. Asli wasn't sure if it would get easier over time, or if it would just get harder and harder. The reminder that, even though he'll soon enough have gotten to celebrate more birthdays and more milestones with her than the ones he hadn't, those years there will always be there. Always be a little reminder of what she had and hadn't done. Of how her fears kept stopping her every time she found the courage to try.

Yet... Aslihan had been trying to protect them both. Because one day, they'll have to know about everything. They'll one day have to find out that during her pregnancy, she had placenta previa. They'll one day have to find out about how much pain she'd been in. They'll one day have to find out that she could've died so that she could bring Alex into this world, that she'd been more than ready to give up her own life to so that their daughter could live. One day, they'll have to find out. Yet she wanted to prevent that for as long as she possibly can. The longer she can protect them both from the truth, she'll try.

Glancing over, she smiled softly. "Thanks," she mused, having struggled with getting the banner up. Admittedly, the woman just wanted to lay in bed for awhile. The baby deciding that now, apparently, was a good time to make her feel nauseous. Please, please, please... Behave today, she thought to the baby with a gentle smile. You'll get to join us and celebrate with us soon enough. Just go easy on me right now. Atlas' questions, however, left her feeling nervous for a moment. However, she nodded quietly. "We have. Her first birthday was relatively easy to come up with. The second one... I could not stick with a theme, but it came along nicely. The third was easier to come up. I think the hardest part is trying to figure out what interests her the most at the moment. Since she's going through her little artiste moment currently, this felt rather easy to come up with." Nodding, she felt irritated with Elizabeth and James. Despite having a surprisingly good relationship with the two, she still hasn't forgiven them for not trying harder for Atlas. Especially now with the truth about his biological father. "Does this mean we're getting to celebrate your big thirty-four at the rescue? Or are we heading to the nursing home this year?" she tried to tease warmly.

location — alex's sixth birthday

character — @draslihanxfahri-bailey

Alexandria Jane Williams, six years old and ready to take on the world. How had she grown up so quickly? How had six years passed in the blink of an eye? Having been present for two years of his daughter's life, he couldn't help but wonder how many things he'd missed before her arrival. How many milestones had she crossed before him? It was a tough pill to swallow, knowing that he had and would always miss something between his children. It was at no fault to their mothers seeing as the only solution he could think of was to move them all into a home together in hopes of never missing another thing. Unfortunately, he didn't see anyone agreeing to such a wild plan.

A breath hitched in his throat as fingers brushed over a happy birthday banner. How many of her birthday parties had she wondered about him? Had she ever asked, or had she been too young to even notice the absence of her father? "Hey," he mumbled weakly, body shifting to catch Aslihan attempting to hang another banner across an entryway. "Let me just," he added between steps, fingers coming to press one side of the banner up while she worked on the other. Between their heights, there was no way that Alex wouldn't end up towering over people too.

"Have you guys always done all of this for her birthday? The whole theme?" Once he knew the banner was securely pressed against the wall, he stepped back and did his best to ignore the hammering in his chest. "For my sixth birthday, my parents let me bring some friends over to the rescue. Shocker, right? I think we did that for every birthday after. I don't know if that's what I really wanted, or if that was easier for my parents to pull off, but," he trailed off, head shaking as a small grin appeared on his mouth, "I'm glad Alex is a hell of a lot more creative than I am."

[cheshirelibrary]

What You Should Know About The Brontës: 10 Facts About The Most Interesting Literary Family 

[via Book Riot]

1. Charlotte, Emily, and Anne All Went by Pen Names, and They Were Suspected of Being the Same Person. Like many Victorian women publishing at the time, the sisters chose male pseudonyms, going by the names Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell.

2. The Brontës Changed Their Last Name to Disguise Their Irish Heritage. The Brontës come from an Irish background, and their surname was originally Brunty. Patrick Brunty — Charlotte, Emily, and Anne’s father — was from a poor, illiterate Irish family, and he was embarrassed of his past.

3. The Brontë Siblings Were Prolific Writers in Their Childhood. Charlotte, Emily, and Anne, along with their brother Branwell, were educated at home for much of their childhoods. And so they grew up playing together and creating imaginary worlds that they would all write about.

4. The Brontë Siblings Later Attended a School that Would Later Become the Inspiration for Lowood in Jane Eyre. In 1824, Charlotte and Emily, along with their sisters Maria and Elizabeth, were sent away to a school for daughters of the clergy. When Typhoid Fever swept through the school in 1825, both Maria and Elizabeth fell ill and died of tuberculosis. Charlotte was not shy about blaming her sisters’ deaths on the conditions at the school.

5. Emily Brontë Preferred Animals to People. Emily preferred spending her time in nature and around animals rather than with people. Following her death, it’s said that her dog Keeper mourned  Emily’s loss, howling outside of her bedroom door for weeks after her death.

6. Charlotte Brontë Had Her Fair Share of Crushes. When she was a young girl, Charlotte was obsessed with Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington. Charlotte spent almost two years being educated in Brussels, and after returning home, wrote four letters to her teacher confessing her love for him, though he was already married. The schoolmaster’s wife later found them, and published them after Charlotte’s death.

7. Branwell Brontë Struggled With Depression and Addiction. Branwell’s struggles with depression, alcoholism, and opium addiction became a source of distress for his sisters. Branwell wanted to be a poet and an artist, and he was frustrated with his lack of success.

8. Anne Brontë Was the Feminist of the Family. Anne’s novels openly challenge the concept of a woman’s place in traditional Victorian England. Anne Brontë’s second and last novel, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, is considered to be one of the first feminist novels. A woman leaving an abusive husband to make a life for herself on her own terms? Revolutionary!

9. Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights Was Not Successful During her Lifetime. Emily Brontë’s only novel is now considered one of the greatest novels of the Victorian era, but following its publication, Wuthering Heights was not a commercial or critical success. At the time, critics believed the story was too dramatic and too dark. Emily Brontë died a year after the novel was published.

10. All of the Brontë Siblings Died at a Tragically Young Age. Patrick Brontë was the father of six, and none of his children would live past the age of 40. He survived them all, eventually passing away at the age of 84. Maria and Elizabeth, died of tuberculosis at ages 11 and 10. Anne died at age 28, Branwell  at 31, also of tuberculosis. Emily caught a chill at Branwell’s funeral and died a few months later at age 30. Charlotte was the last of the siblings to die. She died due to pregnancy complications on March 31, 1855, less than a month before she would have turned 39.

[muselexum]

A somewhat coherent Elizabeth + Filare Family history dump.

ADA AND BJORN

Elizabeth’s parents were married for political purposes. Bjorn Hardradsen was one of Sakuraki’s Jarls and Ada Filare was a Lady from a North Blue kingdom. Their marriage was one of the many that Sakuraki had proposed over the last century as they continued to lean further away from their ancestors more brutal practices of raiding and pillaging the Blues. Their marriage allowed for positive relations between the two islands as Sakuraki continued to integrate with the ways of the outside world. The two settled down in a northern village that Bjorn was the chief of.

Ada had always been a frail woman but this became more evident when the couple began trying for children. She suffered two miscarriages before her pregnancy with Elizabeth, and though Ada was grateful to welcome Elizabeth into her life, her pregnancy and childbirth experience left her very weak. The couple tried for more children afterward, but no more children came of it. While this was viewed negatively by the village, the chief who had come to love his wife dearly defended her against these views. Some encouraged him to divorce and marry a woman that would be able to give him ample sons, but Bjorn rejected all of this. This would put a strain on his position as chief moving forward as many of the village did not see a secure future under his family’s name. Jarldom was determined by strength and respect over blood, and so the seeds had been sewn for a legal supplanting. 

Though the Vikans, Sakuraki’s warriors, had moved away from raiding and pillaging other islands, their sailing practices were still strong as ever. Being raised in a warrior culture, they all still craved the taste of battle and so they redirected their energy towards outlaw groups like bandits and pirates. It should be noted that the Vikans were essentially what the outside world would consider pirates, but they were viewed positively by their culture rather than being considered outlaw scum. 

BJORN AND THE ROGER PIRATES

Bjorn was a strong warrior of the sea and like most other Jarls, he often carried out campaigns to bring home wealth to his people. Vikans and the ships they sailed were small in comparison to the outside world’s pirate crews. Bjorn captained a longship that was 23 meters in length which was the largest of Vikan ships (ex. for comparison the Sunny Go is 39m and visibly smaller than most other ships in the Grand Line). Vikan men are large and sturdy, likened to grizzly bears, and so while their crew numbers were small, they would rarely have issue in battle.

After an encounter with the Roger Pirates at sea, the Vikans came to hold a great deal of respect for Roger who was the epitome of their values. Sailing was an integral part of their culture, woven into their blood from birth and so to see someone from the outside who not only carried the sea in their bones, but strength above any other, had the crew absolutely taken by the wonder in front of them.

Bjorn and his crew sailed back to Sakuraki and welcomed the Roger Pirates onto their soil. The culture in Sakuraki was getting closer to a divide at this point, especially in the fjord towns that had a more non-traditional perspective on Vikans, piracy, and the like. While some were horrified at the arrival of the Roger Pirates in Akanarothtóftir’s harbor, others in the fjord town were in awe and aided in welcoming his crew with a feast. This event further cemented Bjorn’s growing negative public standing. He was not even a Jarl from the larger villages or towns, and definitely not the Vikan King to be making decisions like this.

During those days, Bjorn had brought Ada and Elizabeth into the town to introduce them to the Roger and his crew. This was when Elizabeth and Shanks unknowingly met for the first time, Shanks still a young babe barely turned two and Elizabeth aged four. Elizabeth’s memory of this time was extremely foggy and if Shanks had any memories, they’d be more subconscious than anything.

By the end of this time, Bjorn was convinced he was meant to journey with Roger and his crew. He asked to join and while a few of his men joined with him, many others did not agree to following the command of an outsider no matter how great they were. Bjorn was blind to how negative the perception of him had gotten over the years and this decision was the final straw for many.

THE FOLLOWING YEARS AND ADA’S DEATH

The following years after Bjorn’s departure, the relationship between Ada, Elizabeth, and their village grew strained. Ada was an outsider and too frail to lead anyway, and Elizabeth was far too young to even be considered. Things eventually boiled over around five years after Bjorn left. While supplanting a Jarl’s position could usually be quite bloody, the man that had stepped up to take Bjorn’s Jarldom offered Ada the option to leave in peace. He allowed her to take as much wealth as she could on her journey as well. She had become too ill at this point to contest it and so she took a young Elizabeth with her to the fjord town of Veflavik which the two would consider their new home moving forward. Ada went by her maiden name Filare and assumed life as a regular civilian.

As the years went on, Ada’s symptoms of Amber Lead Syndrome began to take a heavier toll on her. Though she wasn’t a native of Flevance, she was from a neighboring island that had many imports of amber lead products and so she suffered the effects of it even though her case was not as severe or physically visible as it would become for the future generation in Flevance. Amber Lead Syndrome was unheard of in the West Blue at the time and so her growing illness and frailty was a mystery to Sakuraki’s admittedly unadvanced medical practitioners. They could only conclude that she was being plagued by a spirit that ate away at her, the same spirit that had frozen her womb over.

Ada passed from pneumonia during a harsh winter. She was 37 and Elizabeth was 16. Elizabeth had already begun working a few years prior to support her and her mother, but now she was forced to support herself. Luckily the home they had lived in had already been bought with the wealth Ada had brought with them, so Elizabeth just had to work to put food in her stomach. She had been sail-weaving since she was 11. She added being a shop clerk to her workload at 15, but transitioned to being a barmaiden at 16 when she learned there were more tips involved. (A/N: Please keep in mind this is a fictional setting based on a very old-timey culture. The age of adulthood and the view on alcohol would all be different.)

ELIZABETH ON HER OWN

Elizabeth had all but forgotten about her father by this point, at least that’s what she had told herself. She had come to view him leaving as abandonment and she held a bitter resentment for him, especially after her mother’s passing. It had already been a few years since the Roger Pirates disbanded and scattered and still her father had not returned. She did not know which one was worse: her father having died or that he may still be alive but chose not to come home. The truth was that Bjorn had died during the Edd War three years prior to Roger’s execution. Circumstances had not allowed for this to be communicated. Due to her soured view on her father, Elizabeth had developed a resentment for all men of the sea.

She was fresh off her 19th birthday when she first met Shanks. He was very taken by her, and so began a year long relationship that started off as platonic with an unrequited crush on Shanks’ end, to an eventual mutual love.

It was a few months after they met that Shanks found out about Elizabeth’s connection to Bjorn. Her family name had been different but upon realization, Bjorn’s stories about his baby daughter all clicked into place. Shanks grew up with Bjorn, spent more years with him than even Elizabeth, and so he cared for Bjorn like an uncle. Shanks told her the truth about what had happened to Bjorn and that he had died protecting him. With Elizabeth revealing that secret about her, Shanks had in turn told his secret too. He was a Roger Pirate.

After Roger’s execution, Shanks had been very secretive about his ties to the crew. Revealing that truth could prove deadly and so he moved forward being very lowkey about it. On top of that he was extremely depressed after Roger’s death and so it was not until around two years later that he had begun voyaging again. When he met Elizabeth, he was 17 and still just travelling with Beckman as he had only begun forming his crew just a little while before that. That was also another reason as to why he had come to Sakuraki. The island was known for its shipwrights as well as its Eternal Spring Wood, and he wanted to commission his first ship from their shipyard.  Shanks’ first option would have been Tom, but he had been imprisoned for the Oro Jackson and Water 7 was too far for Shanks to sail to without a proper ship regardless. Up until that point, he and Beckman had been sailing on a very small ship.

After Elizabeth received closure on her father she had come to forgive him. It softened her heart a bit and she was able to become closer to Shanks who she now trusted more than anyone at that point, for they both knew each other’s secrets. She continued to view him as a friend as the year passed until the Winter Solstice festival. She had humored him by agreeing to be his date for the weeks of festivities, first for the harrowing journey up to the Temple of Akanaroth, and then to the festival held at Veflavik’s harbor.

It was during the journey up to the mountain temple that her feelings for him had begun to change. The group of pilgrims had been attacked by a fearsome mountain troll and that was when Elizabeth had witnessed Shanks ignite his sword in flames to slay the beast. Up until then she had only bore witness to his more goofy and sweet nature. While she had found him endearing and cared for him, she had also struggled to view him as a “man” in the way Shanks had wanted her to. Coming from a warrior culture, Elizabeth had viewed Shanks as rather scrawny and childish and it did not help that he was a tad younger than her too.

The event had shocked her and everyone in the travelling group, not only for his display of strength, but for the sword they had seen burst into flames. Every Sakurakian had heard the mythos of a warrior that wielded a blade of fire, and now all eyes were on Shanks as whispers began to spread.

Since that event, a switch flipped in Elizabeth’s brain and she had begun to view him differently. Now their dynamic had switched, with Shanks having long accepted that they were friends, and Elizabeth beginning to pursue something beyond that with him. This did not click in Shanks head until she kissed him under the festival’s fireworks a couple weeks later.

To summarize the remainder of their relationship, while the two had finally reached a mutual love for one another it became evident that they wanted different things in life. Shanks was a child of the sea while Elizabeth wanted to live a peaceful civilian life on land. The weeks leading up to Shanks’ departure were a mix of passion and teenage angst until the two parted ways on loving terms. Shanks gifted her a golden heart necklace with a personal engraving etched into the back, and Elizabeth gifted him a charm for his braid that had the rune ‘Safe Travels’ engraved into it. The rune just a carved line away from ‘Love’. She also gave him a secret gift when they parted ways, a message sewn into the corner of one of his ship’s sails. She had kept the fact that she had been weaving some of his commissioned ships’ sails a secret. The message read ‘No matter where the wind takes you, my heart will follow.’

It was after Shanks had left that Elizabeth had realized she was pregnant. Though she ruminated on telling him, she ultimately decided to keep their lives separate. It had not been even a few months since he had left and Shanks had begun to make headlines, his bounty rising. It began to place a familiar fear in her regarding being attached to certain names.

While she did not intend to keep such a thing a secret forever, Elizabeth had unfortunately passed at the age of 26. This effectively kept both Akane and Shanks in the dark about each other until Akane could meet Shanks when she was older, the necklace he had gifted Elizabeth hanging around Akane’s neck.

MISCS / HEADCANONS

Up until 15 years from the present timeline, Sakuraki had not been affiliated with the World Government. This put a massive strain on their relationship with the outside world and also what had continued to push them to be a fearsome, guarded warrior culture. In the years leading up to when they would become part of the WG, there was a growing divide of views on Sakuraki that had weakened their resolve.

Due to the Roger Pirates infamy especially in their later years, sending letters and gifts home was discouraged. Tying family members to your place on the crew could prove to be deadly and so communication was often cut off between crewmates and family members if they had any.

Den Den Mushis were also not a good idea in this case. For Sakuraki in particular, due to them being rather behind in comparison to the world, they did not have access to Den Den Mushis or the WG networks that they ran on. Snails slowly began to become more present in the modern port towns but they were not a common communication device at all. After the WG took control of Sakuraki, the island has adopted more modern advancements.

Bjorn died during the Edd War which was T minus three years to Roger’s execution. While the Roger crew was torn up about it, it was eventually decided that they would find his family after their final voyage. Roger’s health was declining rapidly at this point and they were very close to reaching the end of the Grand Line. They could not afford to sail all the way back to West Blue.

The Roger Pirates disbandment came and went but news of Bjorn had still not arrived to Sakuraki. Then Roger’s execution came, and the Roger crew had all but disappeared into hiding. Aside from everyone’s individual struggles during this time it was also not wise to go around announcing connections to Roger, and so the duty of contacting Bjorn’s family fell through the cracks of time until Shanks came to find them.

[weekendwarriorblog]

Sundance 2022 Day 2 & 3: Speak No Evil, Summering, Sharp Stick, Call Jane

Things are going fairly well as Sundance went through the weekend, and here are four more reviews, still focusing on narrative films even though I’ve been watching a few more docs over the weekend, as well.

SPEAK NO EVIL

Christian Tafdrup’s third movie is the first movie I personally have seen from the Danish filmmaker. Before the movie, Tafdrup said that he and his co-writing brother Mads were looking to make “The most unpleasant experience for an audience ever.” In fact, I had already been hearing comparisons to Von Trier and Haneke being bandied about before even knowing what the movie was about. The movie sets itself up with music that sounds foreboding that I really wasn’t sure what I was getting into, although this appropriately was the Day One Midnight movie for this year’s Sundance.

Danish couple Bjørn and Louise (Morten Burian, Sidsel Siem Koch) are on holiday with their daughter Agnes (Liva Forsberg) in Tuscany, where they meet a strange Dutch family, adding Speak No Evil to the long list of vacation movies we’ve seen in the past year, but also reminding us that the Swedish film Force Majeure started that trend a very long time ago. They accept an invitation to visit the other couple, Patrick and Karin (Fedja van Huêt, Karina Smulders) at their home. They have a quiet and sullen son Abel (Marius Damslev), who barely speaks, but they’re disturbed by how strict his parents are with him, which makes them uncomfortable. On top of that, Louisa is a vegetarian (or rather, a pescaterian, a term I hate), but Patrick still offers her the boar he has cooked and challenges

Patrick and Karin (Fedja van Huêt andKarina Smulders) keep putting their visitorsin odder and uncomfortable situations, including lots of PDA (public displays of affection) and spying on the couple while they’re having sex, so they decide to get out of there, leaving in the middle of the night. Things just get more awkward when they have to return for Agnes’ stuffed rabbit.

You can only imagine what’s going to happen… are they killers or swingers or something more horrible than either? It’s over an hour before Bjorn starts venturing around the house and starts realizing that things are even more wrong than they thought.

Essentially, Speak No Evil is the much darker non-comic version of Vacation Friends, another vacation-related movie from last year, oddly.. Like Haneke and Von Trier, Speak No Evil is more about the psychological terror of being put into a horrible situation, more than the type of horror with supernatural elements. The movie is filled with such great performances across the board, and there was a lot more English than I was expecting, not that I necessarily have any issue with foreign language films. Tafrdup does a terrific job with a movie that would surely have a difficulty tone.

This is just a fantastic thriller, one I do hope will get some sort of theatrical release, even if it means playing a few non-virtual festivals, although the streaming horror site Shudder has already picked it up for distribution.

Rating: 8/10

CALL JANE

Call Jane was actually my first Sundance movie this year that didn’t show up at the festival with distribution lined up, although it’s a bit of a misnomer that it’s the directorial debut by Phyllis Nagy, the screenwriter of Carol, since she previously directed the HBO movie, Mrs. Harris.

It stars Elizabeth Banks as Joy Griffin, a suburban housewife in the ‘60s, married to Chris Messina and with a teen daughter Charlotte. Joy gets pregnant but needs to get an emergency pregnancy termination due to how it’s physically affecting her. Joy’s case gets the attention of the Jane Collective, a group of women who helps women get illegal abortions in the ‘60s pre-Roe v Wade, and Joy ends up getting more and more involved, first offering support to women during the uncomfortable procedure and then doing some of the procedures herself.

I was mildly surprised that this film wasn’t actually written by Nagy, who was working from a screenplay by Hayley Schore and Roshan Sethi that may have been around for some time. But the writing isn’t that great, and you wonder why Nagy didn’t take more of a writing credit herself.

While I understand the timeliness of this film with what’s going on in Texas and other states, this is just not a situation that affects me at all, and therefore not a particularly interesting premise to me, despite my belief in women’s right to choose. It’s a fairly bland drama, even though there are moments that are quite difficult and uncomfortable to sit through, such as when Joy herself is getting the procedure.

That said, I liked the movie more and more as it went along, and much of that came down to the terrific performance by Banks, who is given a lot of room to really make Joy far more interesting than the typical Douglas Sirk heroine. (Originally, the role was supposed to be played by Elisabeth Moss, who may have been better, but Banks handles the material quite well.) The second most interesting performance comes from Sigourney Weaver, who is running the clinic, but unfortunately, Messina is back to playing another bland indie role, which I was hoping he had put behind him. Kate Mara plays their neighbor who adds absolutely nothing to the movie.

The rest of the cast is okay, but there are many scenes of the women sitting around talking, and the film is shot so blandly, that it does little to invigorate the film’s slower paced moments. Things definitely get quite dramatic with many great moments showcasing the actors, as well as showing off Nagy’s talents as a theater director.

The biggest problem with Call Jane, and this could just be due to Nagy’s inexperience as a film director, is that it’s two hours without needing to even be that long. The story could definitely have been tightened up to improve its pacing with more than a few scenes that served very little purpose.

The Jane Collective is an intriguing and timely subject to explore for a movie, but Call Jane’s closest benchmark is Mike Leigh’s Vera Drake, and it doesn’t come close to being that good. On the other hand, Call Jane is a fine showcase for Banks as an actor; I just wish the writing and filmmaking aspects of the film were better.

Rating: 7/10

SUMMERING

It’s always nice when James Ponsoldt has a new movie, especially since I was such a fan of his movie Smashed when it played at Sundance, or maybe it was TIFF, or maybe it was both? Summering is a very different movie, because it’s a coming-of-age movie about four young girls wanting to spend the last weekend of summer together before going to middle school. While on one of their adventures, they find a dead body, but instead of going the River’s Edge route, the girls try to find out who the man is and why he jumped (or fell) from a bridge above.

Summering comes into Sundance with distribution in place from Bleecker Street, and you can kind of understand why it appealed to the smaller distributor, because it’s a movie with definitely Stand by Me vibes, maybe a little bit of The Goonies?

Shot in Utah during the summer, the movie stars Lia Barnett, Eden Grace Redfield, Madalen Mills, and Sanai Victoria as the four best friends of different diversities and backgrounds but some seem more mature and taller than others. A nice touch is that for the majority of the film, all four young actresses do almost every single scene together, and Ponsoldt does a good job giving these talented young actors the direction to pull off some pretty complex scenes, as we follow them around, trying to learn more about the dead man they found.

All four young actresses are given their moments, and then on the flip side, their mothers are played by Lake Bell, Megan Mullally, Sarah Cooper, and Ashley Madekwe, who also have some nice scenes together. The fact is that Ponsoldt has managed to make a movie with almost no men whatsoever (except for the dead body and a small cameo).

It’s less successful at mixing genres ala last year’s Ghostbusters: Afterlife, because the comedy aspects aren’t particularly hilarious and the mystery and horror elements are rather subtle. The girls do get spooked after seeing the dead body, and even try to throw a seance to communicate with him.

Summering is sweet and cute and not particularly groundbreaking, but for what it’s trying to achieve, which is to make a pleasant movie that can appeal to younger girls, it offers some truly heartfelt moments and a wonderful ending that allows the girls to say goodbye to their childhoods as they head to middle school.

Rating: 7/10

SHARP STICK

Although Sharp Stick is Lena (Girls) Dunham’s first feature film since 2010’s Tiny Furniture, it’s actually her first movie at Sundance, since that other film premiered at SXSW. I wasn’t really a fan of Tiny Furniture, and honestly, I could take or leave Girls, but of course, it’s hard not to be interested in anything Ms Dunham does. This one could be seen as a character piece, and if it hadn’t played at Sundance so soon after I had seen Sean Baker’s significantly better Red Rocket, I might be a little less jaded and open to the story she wanted to tell here.

It stars Norwegian actress Kristine Froseth as 26-year-old Sarah Jo, a bright and bubbly caregiver to a young boy with Down’s syndrome named Zach (Liam Michel Saux). She lives with her mother, played by Jennifer Jason Leigh, and her sister Treina, played by Zola’s Taylour Paige, who is obsessed with TikTok and being a social media influencer. There’s not much to be said about the latter characters, since they don’t really bring too much to the overall story/movie.

Still a virgin, Sarah Jo decides that it’s time for her to explore her sexuality, so she comes on to Zach’s father Josh (Jon Bernthal) and begs him to take her virginity. They end up having an affair, trying to hide it from Josh’s pregnant wife (played by Dunham herself). In hopes of being better at sex, Sara Jo starts watching a lot of porn, and eventually becomes obsessed with a porn star (Scott Speedman) and starts experimenting with the things she watches in his porn.

Due to the sexuality on display in this coming-of-age tale, it’s hard not to think of something like Lars von Trier’s Nymphomaniac, or some of the work of Todd Solondz, particularly Welcome to the Dollhouse, although Dunham does bring a uniqueness to it with her own writing voice. Froseth is quite a find to play the naive young woman looking to explore her sexuality, and it’s her performance that keeps the movie from becoming absolutely loathsome. She’s a little childlike herself, and more than once while watching the movie, I wondered whether Sarah Jo was meant to be on the spectrum or that it was decided not to state that outright.

The movie just takes Sarah Jo further and further down this wormhole of sex, and the film gets darker – again, much like Nymphomania – but at least there’s some redemption for Sarah Jo that at least things eventually end in a happier place. Dunham is definitely a better director now than when she made Tiny Furniture, and one thing I really liked was the choice of songs, which did a terrific job adding to the mood.

The problem is that Sharp Stick leaves the viewer with too many questions about what they just watched. Although it does end in a good place, there are elements of the movie that are just so icky, it’s hard to forgive them, making it harder to fully recommend the movie.

Rating: 6.5/10

More reviews coming soon…

[katfox]

♡Mysme Fluff Day 6: Both?♡

Characters: Zen, Jumin, and Saeran.

Word count: Roughly 450-650+ each

Summary: Taking a walk through the sweet and supportive domestic future, with the man of your dreams and the family you make.

ZEN || Marriage + Success ||

Time was flying by and Zen wanted nothing more than to be the one and only man in your life. He treasured you like you were a goddess, and to be your god would make him feel complete. You've been by his side for 2 years now and he felt like it was time, whether his fan were going to continue supporting him or leave. He didn't care, he wanted to be happy too and having to pretend that you both aren't together by not being seen out with one another hurts his sanity. So he ended up asking you to marry him at the end of one of his shows, this was completely unexpected but you were so happy.

Unfortunately there was some backlash from most of the younger fans, but the overwhelming amount of loving supporters grew fast. Everyone deserves to find love, even celebrities. The fans started to realize that Zen was a human too, not just some musical actor robot radiating pheromones. The wedding was small and intimate but it was beautiful; it was one of the best moments of your life as of yet. Zen was so happy that he could finally show you off to the world as the love of his life.

Since the wedding some of the younger fans that originally left, felt like it was better to sick around for his talent since they still loved the effort he always gave with each performance. Zen was surprised at the amount his fans grew, he never imagined getting more popular although wanting to be the best of the best. He pushes himself and worked harder for his fans, but you'd always remind him that taking a break is good for his health. So he'd listen to you.

Seven months after being married nothing really changed, Zen still loved you completely and endlessly. He continues practicing any chance he can get to show his fans that anyone can make it if they believe in themselves. Four months flash by and here you are, it's too surreal and you couldn't be happier for Zen. You're waiting at the table with your dashing husband as he waits for the results of his nomination. "Award for Best Emotion Capturing goes to... None other than... The one and only ZEN!"

Zen continued to grow for his amazing talents as opposed to just being eye candy. He never gave his fans less than 110% of himself, and he'd never change that. They loved him even when he had nothing and continue supporting him while he has everything he's ever wanted. The love and successes continued to grow between the both of you, and that'd never change.

JUMIN || Business + Pregnancy ||

Being Jumin's wife is amazing, he's caring, loving, and caters to your every emotion and need. He cherishes you as if you were an angel sent from heaven itself. Ater the wedding Chairman Han wanted you to be more hands on with the company; it felt like you were the perfect addition to the family, and the company needed a women's warmth. Chairman Han couldn't be happier with how Jumin has changed and opened up, he never thought he'd see his son so smitten for a woman. Jumin himself loved the idea of having you work for the company as you'd be around more often to see him. He tends to feel slightly uneasy without you when he's having a particularly stressful day.

Due to Chairman Han's gradual aging and declining health, Jumin felt the need to pick up more of the slack in the family business. You supported him through every obstacle that he was to face while handling multiple departments at a time. He never gave up and neither did you, staying by his side, giving him pep talks, and loving him were all he needed in order to keep the company growing successfully. There's been talk about having children mostly from your father in law, however neither you nor Jumin were opposed to having children.

The stress of running a company hasn't been the best environment to bare a child, although you've been trying. There was even a time where the stress of everything in your life caused you to have a phantom pregnancy. Jumin was with you every moment during that rough patch in your marriage. He bathed you, he would feed you, he'd stay up all night to make sure that you got evening peaceful sleep. He would do it over and over again if he needed to.

Work continued as always, even branching out on smaller businesses whether for his own or your philanthropy. Elizabeth even got to come to work more often, jumin was happy about it but if anyone was reaping the benefits of her visits, it was you. She had become such a loving support animal for you while you were going through changes. After Eight months your life had took an exciting turn.

You haven't been feeling well for the past two months or so; you chucked it up to be another phantom pregnancy up until you went to get a check up to be certain. There you were with the news that you were eleven weeks pregnant, tears of relief and joy streamed down your face. This was the most exciting news that you've had in a long time, and you knew that your doting husband would be ecstatic. You went out shopping afterwards to find something to share the news with your loving husband. You go into a pet store and find a tag before having it engraved with "Big Sister" for Elizabeth's collar. Sure the ultrasound photos would be enough but you wanted to involve the first little love in his life.

You come home before him and clip the tag onto her collar; Jumin was very hyper aware of everything in his home, so he'd notice Elizabeth's change right away. Jumin came come as Elizabeth walks over to her precious spot on the couch, catching his attention immediately. "Darling are you home?" He called out to you before giving his beloved pet a gentle ear caressing. He notices the tag as he holds her in his arms. He turns around quizzically to make sure he understands what he's reading. Once looking up towards you he is met with the ultrasound photos of the sweet baby in your belly. You've never seen this man cry since you've been with him until this very moment. Having a legacy born of your love is the most amazing gift you could've given him.

SAERAN || Babies + Ice Cream ||

You and Saeran were inseparable, he needed you and you wanted to give him the life he deserved. A life where he could make his own choices and and dream of anything his heart desires. He was so happy and free by your side. You cried for a few months after everything happened, as he still woke up in terror some nights. The memories of the mental and physical abuse and manipulation haunted him. But being by your side was all worth it.

The relationship between you and him progressed rather quickly, having got married after just six months. He was the sweetest thing as you guys were at the altar, the blush on his face seemed to shine adorably as he read you his vows. After the wedding you moved around to a little suburban neighborhood. It was nice, calm paced, and as far away from mint eye as physically possible. This was the perfect place to start a new life with this flourishing love.

You gave Saeran the idea and hope to open up an ice creamery; it would be perfect since it involves one of the things he loved the most since childhood. It was going to take some time as you work on the reconstruction process for an old retail space. Thankfully it was sold for cheaper since the previous owners wrecked it, but it gave us a lot to work with. With your help and the help of the RFA the ice cream shop was ready within about four months. The shop would've gotten completed faster, if you hadn't have gotten pregnant around month two and a half months into construction.

You still wanted to work with the others, acting as if you weren't pregnant to surprise everyone at the end. After weeks of creating the best ice cream profiles, you both set up the grand opening. It turned out to be a huge success, and you couldn't be happier seeing Saeran's childhood memory into a business. After closing, you gather your sweet husband and your friends and family to share the news. "I'm pregnant!"

For a minute you can see him physically shut down until he finally thinks about the past few weeks, and pieces everything together. His reaction was the purest form of affection you've ever seen. He cried happily as he held you close, gently caressing your belly as the group cheered on in excitement. Seven especially was excited to be an uncle, but what else was new.

"Twin Scoops", was decided as the official name of the ice creamery after finding out that you were pregnant with twins. Being pregnant was hard- being pregnant with twins was worse, but Saeran devoted himself to doing anything he can to make it easier on you. He couldn't be sweeter honestly and the day that you gave birth he held your hand through everything. Two beautiful crimson haired babies, one boy and one girl. He swore his life to be a better man, be a better father to your twins than the man who contributed to his life.

You could say your life was as sweet as ice cream.

@mmfluffweek

[minervacasterly]

🌹🌷Princess 🌹🌷 When they are born, princesses are expected to live happily ever after. They seldom do. Mary Tudor was a cherished only child, the darling of her family. Heiress presumptive to her mighty father, King Henry VIII, she was betrothed first to one great prince, then an emperor. But she was not the son her father wanted. Bewitched by the seductive charms of another woman, Henry banished his wife, good Queen Katherine, sending her to the unhealthiest place of confinement in all England. Cruelly separated from her beloved mother, Mary found herself alienated from her father, who withdrew his affection. She was degraded from princess to bastard. Her ‘wicked’ stepmother ordered her to wait on the sibling who had supplanted her as the heir of England, and threatened to force her into a base marriage or poison her. Her father, who had overturned Church and state to replace her with a son, was determined to have her submission and would not scruple to chop off her head. All that seemed far away on a glorious May morning in 1515, when King Henry VIII and Queen Katherine, accompanied by their gorgeously attired courtiers, rode out from Greenwich Palace, up Shooters Hill and disappeared into the forest. Henry, a golden giant of a man, had always taken a childlike pleasure in May Day, rising at dawn to gather may and green boughs to mark the beginning of summer. Once, disguised as Robin Hood and his merry men, Henry and his cronies had burst into the Queen’s chamber, sending her ladies scurrying with fright. Katherine, far more mature than her husband, smiled indulgently at the prank, pretending surprise. Now, deep in the forest, the royal party was greeted by 200 of the palace guard in green costumes masquerading as Robin Hood and his outlaws. Proud of their skill as bowmen, which had won the English the battles of Crécy and Agincourt, they fired a volley of arrows before the admiring company. Robin Hood then led the royal couple into an arbour decorated with flowers and aromatic herbs, where a great feast of venison and wine had been laid. On the way back to Greenwich, the party was met by the Queen of the May, who sang to them. It was, of course, a fertility festival. Just over nine months later, on 18 February 1516, the Queen gave birth to a daughter at the riverside palace of Greenwich, where she and Henry had been privately married shortly after his accession seven years before. Katherine had already lost several babies, not least her first-born son. Pilgrimages to the shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham to pray for an heir had not proved fruitful, until now. Any disappointment at the child’s sex was outweighed by the fact that she was healthy and likely to live. The christening was held three days later with great pomp and solemnity at the nearby Church of the Observant Friars. Four knights held the canopy of estate over the baby Princess, who was wrapped so tightly against the cold that not even her face was visible. Under all the layers, she wore an exquisite christening robe, which her mother had brought from Spain. She was carried in the arms of the Countess of Surrey, flanked by the premier dukes, Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, representing the old nobility, and Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, the King’s boon companion and parvenu husband of his favourite sister. The procession stopped at the church door, where the priest blessed and named the child, and then proceeded into the church, richly hung with jewelled cloth of arras gleaming in the light of hundreds of candles. A brazier provided warmth, as the infant had to be dipped naked into the silver font, brought specially from Canterbury for the occasion. After the baptism, Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury, daughter of that Plantagenet Duke of Clarence who was drowned in a butt of malmsey, stood godmother at the confirmation. From the front of the church, the herald proclaimed the style and title of the Princess: ‘God give good life and long unto the right high, right noble, and right excellent princess Mary, princess of England and daughter of our sovereign lord and king.’ After taking refreshment, the torch-lit procession returned in the same order to the palace to be met by Henry in the presence chamber. It was not customary for the King of England to attend his child’s baptism, while the Queen was still confined to her lying-in chamber, where she would remain until her ‘churching’, the purification ceremony that took place a month after the birth. To honour the King’s children was to honour the King and Mary received many rich christening gifts: a gold cup from her godfather Thomas Wolsey, Cardinal Archbishop of York, a commoner of low birth but her father’s indefatigable servant; a gold pomander from her aunt and namesake, Mary, Dowager Queen of France and Duchess of Suffolk; a gold spoon from her godmother and great-aunt, the Lady Katherine Courtenay, daughter of Edward IV and sister of the King’s late mother, Elizabeth of York; and from her other godmother, the Duchess of Norfolk, a richly illuminated primer. After receiving her mother’s blessing, the infant was taken away to the nursery in the Queen’s apartments, where she would remain until she was weaned. The Venetian ambassador, Sebastian Guistinian, took his time in coming to court to congratulate the King on the birth of his daughter. ‘Had it been a son,’ he told the Doge, ‘it would not have been fit to delay.’ He had the temerity to tell Henry that, of course, the Republic would much rather the child had been a boy. The remark must have irritated Henry, but his reply was determinedly optimistic. If ‘it were a daughter this time, by the grace of God the sons will follow’. All queens were under pressure to bear a male heir – indeed, it was their prime function – but for Katherine there was the added burden of knowing that her marriage was contentious. She was the widow of Henry’s brother, Arthur, and although she maintained that her marriage to Arthur had not been consummated and a papal dispensation had been issued for Henry and Katherine to marry, there were lingering doubts about the propriety of the marriage. By the standards of the time, Katherine, at thirty-one, six years older than her husband, was already old for childbearing. She had a string of failed pregnancies behind her and time was running out. For someone as macho as Henry VIII, a daughter was a deep injury to his self-esteem and hence to the glory of the monarchy, of which he was the personification. One of the most magnificent princes in Europe, Henry had used his charisma, his ebullient personality and his father’s carefully hoarded millions to restore the monarchy to unprecedented heights and splendour, but what guarantee of its future if he did not have a son to succeed him? Was the King not the nation’s leader in war; had he not personally led a military campaign in France to regain the conquests of his predecessors? How on earth could a woman do that? Katherine knew different, sharing none of her husband’s doubts about female sovereignty. When she herself was acting regent during Henry’s absence in France, the English army won a resounding victory over the Scots at Flodden. Triumphant, she had sent the bloodstained coat of the slain James IV to Henry as a trophy. She had the example of her own mother, Isabella, before her. Isabella had not just been Queen of Castile and León in her own right, but also a warrior-queen. Katherine, the youngest of Isabella’s children, had spent much of her childhood with her mother in military camps and she had been with both her parents at the conquest of Granada in 1492. Exhibiting a zeal for religious purity which would be mirrored in her granddaughter, Mary of England, Isabella had not rested until she had made Spain wholly Christian, eradicating Islam, forcing the Moors and the Jews either to convert or to leave. In that same year, she had also funded a Genoese seaman, Christopher Columbus, on a voyage that would end in the discovery of the New World in the Americas. It is reasonable to assume that Katherine regaled her daughter with stories of the great queen who was her grandmother, as she began quietly steering her towards her destiny as Queen of England. -SOVEREIGN LADIES. SEX, SACRIFICE & POWER: SIX REIGNING QUEENS OF ENGLAND by Maureen Waller

[fordbayhq]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Sydney Noelle Dalton

DATE OF BIRTH: September 28, 1989

AGE: 31

BIRTHPLACE: Seattle, Washington

GENDER: Cis female

PRONOUNS: She/her

OCCUPATION: Owner at Sixth Mile Bar

PLACE OF RESIDENCE: Old Port

FACE CLAIM: Elizabeth Olsen

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGER WARNINGS: teenage pregnancy, single parenting, cancer, death

The Jacobs sisters couldn’t have been more different — Alison and her polished reticence and Michaela and her brazen mischief. Despite the four year age difference between them, they were inseparable. Blonde hair threaded into braids down their back, ribbons unfurling, pinkies wound tightly together in the moments where fists weren’t drawn. They saw beyond each other’s crowned reputations; Alison and her desire to be swept away in a love so epic it wouldn’t have been able to be confined by page, Michaela and her fears of never finding stability. Everyone in town’s whispers involved Michaela being the Jacobs child who would go and fuck up their lives somehow. Michaela’s confidence and inability to conceal in the shadows hid Alison’s sophomore year romance with the senior boy, the sneaking out of windows and spending summers in a cabin in the woods while lying to Elisabeth about being with friends. It was a shock when Alison found herself pregnant only at 16, the boy who had promised her forever leaving at the mention of something as permanent as a child. Elisabeth voiced her disapproval, avowing disownment. Michaela was her sister’s shield in every moment, allowing her to move into her apartment and holding her hand every step of the way. Sydney Noelle Dalton was born on a crisp September evening, sun swollen low in the sky and autumn leaves falling to the ground. In her daughter, Alison found the love she’d sought but had never been able to find, her heart now residing outside of her body.  

Sydney’s childhood was modest and humble, growing up in her aunt’s small apartment in a suburb outside of Seattle. Alison found a balance in raising Sydney and obtaining an associates degree to become a radiologist. Michaela spent the first few years of Sydney’s life helping where she could, but it wasn’t long before the world called Michaela and she couldn’t resist answering. She found herself swept away in a one-night stand with a man from a tiny fishing town in Canada who’d offered her the keys to a local bar as he sought an out to go explore the world. Michaela gave Alison the apartment and Alison began carving her and her daughter’s way into the world. Sydney was curious about the world but cautious about the unknown, creative and kind but also rather shy when it came to kids her age. She fell right into an average box of an average life and didn’t demand anything more or less than what she had.

Summers were different. Summers were synonymous with visits to Aunt Michaela, making them the highlight of every year comprising her childhood and adolescence. Around the age of six, she would spend the same two weeks in Fordbay that her mother would be able to accompany her while they visited. Her aunt lived in one of the rooms over the very bar she owned, and while Alison wasn’t fond of having a young Sydney staying in the bar, there was a certain charm that enthralled Sydney. Her aunt’s charisma was what made locals pick the Sixth Mile for their drinks, a dynamic personality that Sydney was magnetized by. There was a sophistication to her aunt that Sydney craved to recapture, eager to find a similar well-roundedness in experience and travel and connection with others that her aunt had exorbitant amounts of. Sydney found herself monikered ‘Mini Mick’ as she came out of her shell, a shadow in her aunt’s footsteps and always looking to her for how to act, how to respond, how to be. Some of Michaela’s particular favorite regulars thought it was hilarious, a tiny eight year old girl picking Patsy Cline songs on the jukebox to fill the space of the bar. Sydney ate up every moment of her time in Fordbay and spent the rest of the days counting down the minutes until the next trip; by the time she was thirteen, she was catching flights on her own and spending entire summers with her aunt. As she got older, she would make the most of her time there, working small jobs out in Faraday Heights to make a little extra spending money. Sydney was her mother’s daughter and her aunt’s best friend, the best of them and the worst. She was independent and vibrant, guarded and impulsive, learning who she was and who she didn’t want to be.

The childhood, rose-blushed dream of moving to Fordbay after graduation faded into the background as newer, bigger, brighter dreams rose in the distance and created a glimmering architecture for Sydney’s future. She was accepted at the University of Washington, where she earned her degree in Journalism and Public Interest Communications. Her internship her senior year at a company creating digital content spawned an assistant level position offered to her right out of college. She spent a year growing, clamoring for a writer’s position, and eventually was given the green light on starting an online column that garnered a faithful readership within a few months of its first publication. While she wasn’t knee-deep in journalism that allowed her to travel, interact with people and share things with the world she wouldn’t have known about otherwise, she still had an open line of communication to people and was able to have a hand in telling otherwise unheard stories. She enjoyed the novelty in it and made the most of the opportunity, soaking up every moment that furthered her growth both as a writer and woman seeking her way in the world.

With popularity grew increasing demands, stress that Sydney had difficulty managing. It dwindled away at her life beyond the four walls of work — relationships were far and few in between, both platonic and romantic, a sleep schedule that barely hovered around the threshold of 'functioning human being’ and an unbreakable dependence on caffeine —but professionally opened doors for her that she was unable to kick down otherwise. She was offered an entry-level reporter position with the Seattle Times, an offer that felt nearly impossible to pass up on. Sydney’s world opened ten-fold, putting her in the thick of the journalism world she’d been gazing out at from her position at the windows she’d been behind. It took its toll on her physically and mentally, carving her to the brink of hollowness and beginning to steal the spark she’d hung carefully in her own eyes as a teenager, but there was a certain rush of fulfillment coupled with climbing the ladder of success, triumphing in the end.

And then Michaela called.

Most calls admittedly had found their way to the voicemail box or limited to brief conversations in the moments where Sydney wasn’t exhausted or on assignment, but there was an undeniable soft spot held for Aunt Michaela Sydney couldn’t have splintered if she tried. Michaela was inquiring about a visit, looking to steal away time from Sydney’s job to see her — holidays had passed with very few hellos, those special summers melted away into chunks of months where assignments held the majority of her concept of time. Something in her aunt’s voice compelled her to take a small lump of vacation time she’d built up to stroll back down the golden memory lane of her childhood. In many ways, Fordbay had remained the same, but it had also changed, things not quite as they’d been when she memorialized the place in her mind. Aunt Michaela had changed too, her cheekbones more defined and the warmth she’d exuded in Sydney’s childhood not as grand and all-encompassing. She was not the epicenter of entertainment that Sydney had grown up idolizing, yearning to capture the same essence of. At a quiet dinner one night, Michaela softly admitted she had  cancer. The diagnosis had been recent, only a few days prior to her calling Sydney, and her latest trip to the hospital had revealed the metastatic and incurable nature of the cancer. Michaela wasn’t sure how much longer she’d had — and to add to Sydney’s complete and utter shock, her mom was already in Fordbay, helping take care of Michaela. There was a sense of betrayal in the secrecy of her aunt’s wellbeing, knowing how close they were, but Alison stuck to her reasoning and her decisions. They hadn’t wanted to interrupt Sydney’s dreams with something as grim as this and steal her away, but Sydney didn’t take well with other people drawing up her decisions for her.  

Life for Sydney upended rather quickly. She quit her job at the Times with very little hesitation or thought in order to be in Fordbay and help her aunt out wherever she could. She took over shifts at the Sixth Mile when she wasn’t accompanying Michaela to doctor’s appointments or helping fulfill last wishes, trying to help fill the large shoes her aunt’s absence had left. It seemed like only days had passed, but three weeks into Sydney’s stay, Michaela passed peacefully in her sleep. The news rocked Sydney despite seeing it coming from a mile away. After the funeral, Alison began to try and make arrangements for divvying up Michaela’s belongings. Alison had a life, a new boyfriend in Seattle and a comfortable home and a job, one she couldn't — and wouldn’t — leave to nurse the Sixth Mile Bar that had been posthumously left in their hands. The singular conversation of selling the bar ended with Sydney’s blatant refusal, promising to take over where her aunt had left off. Sydney could see the glimmers of disappointment in her mother’s eyes at her choice, but they both knew there was no stopping Sydney after her mind had been made up. Alison went back to Seattle and Sydney had the rest of her belongings shipped out from Seattle, found a more permanent place in Old Port to call her own and began the journey through uncharted waters. It’s been two months since her aunt’s passing; while she’s still trying to find her footing in the new life she unexpectedly walked right into, she’s grateful for the breath she’s been able to take following the leave of her old life and finding joy in the unearthed childhood dreams (albeit far from the reality she’d birthed them in) now coming to fruition.

WRITTEN BY: Grace, 23, She/Her, EST

[honeypiehotchner]

Deception (John Watson x OFC) -- epilogue

It has been a long and wild ride, but this story has come to an end. Thank you guys for reading! And I’m sorry there was such a big hiatus between parts, but thank you for sticking around. All my love xxxx. (I know the gif isn’t from Sherlock but shhhhhhh)

I’m having a baby girl.

           Well, eventually. I’m only about four months right now, and the ultrasound technician got a little excited and revealed the sex before I could tell her I’d rather be surprised. No harm done, though, at least now I know for sure.

           I finally got a phone a few weeks ago. It’s easier to have one when you’re pregnant, I’m learning. The doctor needs a number to call to remind me of appointments, I need a phone to call them, and after reconnecting to my sister, Crystal, I needed a phone to text her, too.

           I haven’t told her about my assignment in London with Sherlock, and I won’t ever if I can help it. It’s been nice to not think or talk about it since I left. I’ve been able to push that part of my life away and move on.

           Well, sort of. It’s hard not to be reminded of John when I have his babygirl nestled inside of me.

           But she’s mine as much as she is his. Maybe one day she’ll meet him, but I won’t get her hopes up – or mine. I haven’t heard from him since the night Sherlock returned, and I’d like to keep it that way. As if I have much of a choice. He’s probably enjoying his life with Sherlock again, solving cases and saving the world.

           Anyway, speaking of my sister, she’s supposed to come over today. Something about yoga is good for pregnancy. She’s had two children, a boy named Colin and a girl named Elizabeth, if you can believe it. I’m an aunt and I had no idea! I’m listening to her as much as I can. I have no clue what I’m doing here, but I trust her to help me.

           I’m changing into a sports bra and leggings when the doorbell rings. I don’t bother yelling out because I’m sure that’s her. Normally she rings the doorbell as a courtesy to let me know she’s coming in. It’s an unspoken rule we developed after she came inside (she knocked, but I didn’t hear her) and scared the living daylights out of me. I’m just glad I didn’t pull a gun on her, because that would’ve made things worse.

           It rings a second time. I shake my head. Once I’m done dressing myself (and she’s rung the doorbell a third time), I make my way to the front door.

           “Did you forget your key—?” My sentence is cut short by the familiar face staring back at me.

           It’s not my sister. Not even close.

           “John,” I blurt. “What…What are you doing here?”

           “I um…” He pauses, looking about as spooked as I feel. “Mycroft told me where you were, I thought I’d come…say hi.”

           “You took a plane from England just to say hi?” I say aloud, but inwardly I say, I’m going to kill Mycroft Holmes the second I get the chance.

           “Yes,” John says, still staring like a deer caught in the headlights.

           He’s making an enormous effort to keep his eyes on my face and not my belly, which I do respect, but I can tell it’s taking everything out of him. Mycroft must’ve told him. Or Sherlock sensed it too, but just never told me. The bastard.

           “Uh, come in.” My back is beginning to hurt and I’d like to sit down, and John looks too terrified to be doing anything besides sitting still.

           He walks inside and I close the door behind him, my head still spinning. The last thing I expected was for John Watson to show up outside my door. Four months. And now I’m inviting him into my home.

           I walk into the living room, glancing over my shoulder to see he’s following me. I take a seat on the couch, gesturing for him to do the same. He does, stiffly. He’s barely moving at all.

           We sit in silence for what feels like ages until he says something.

           “Is it mine?”

I figured he’d ask that. It took him longer than I thought it would to ask.

           “I don’t know,” I reply truthfully. “But there’s no one else I’ve had sex with in the last year, so my bet is yes. She is.”

           John turns his head, and I swear I see tears rimming his bottom lashline. “She?”

           I nod. “She.” I rest my hand over my stomach, smiling softly. “She’s a baby girl. She’s strong. She’s already moving.”

           John lets out a laugh, his shoulders finally relaxing. He hangs his head, his chin resting against his chest as he whispers, “A baby girl.”

           “Look, John,” I pause, waiting for him to look at me. “You don’t have to do anything for her. Or for me because of her. I understand. I won’t list you as the father if you’d like to just…put this behind you. I won’t ask you to pay child support or anything like that. I just—” I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to seem like I was holding it over your head. Don’t feel obligated to be here or be with me just because of her. I don’t want to do that to you. Or her.”

           There’s tears streaming down my cheeks by the time I’m finished and tears shining in John’s eyes as he watches me. I wipe the droplets away hastily, getting myself together. I can’t believe it’s the first time I’m seeing him in months and I’m crying. How pathetic.

           John scoots closer to me. I hold a breath in my throat, waiting for his next move, positive he’s going to thank me and agree that he should leave this all behind.

           I don’t know what else I expect, but it isn’t what he does.

           John gently wipes my tears away, even when more fall because of how soft his touch is and how much I’ve longed for it. It takes no time at all before I’m sobbing into his chest, his arms cradling me protectively.

           “Shh,” he murmurs. “I’m here. I’m so sorry I never chased after you. It wasn’t your fault you got caught in the middle of things.”

           All of the words I’ve longed to hear him say since I left London are spilling from his lips. His hand rests on the back of my head, keeping me close, rocking back and forth to calm me.

           “If it makes you feel any better at all, I nearly killed Sherlock when he told me everything.”

           I laugh shakily, burying my face into his shoulder. “I wanna kill him, too.”

           “Eh, it’s alright,” John murmurs, rubbing circles into my back. “I’m sure we’ll get the chance one day.”

           “Yeah,” I chuckle, lifting my head. I wipe my face on my hands, rolling my eyes. “I’m sorry. I probably look like a mess.”

           John shakes his head. “Never.”

           I give him a look. “You’re only saying that because you love me.”

           “And because it’s the truth,” he replies. “Jane—Or Nicole?”

           “Jane,” I squeeze his hands. “I’m always Jane when I’m with you. I like it much better. I always have, secretly.”

           “Okay,” John breathes, smiling. “Jane, if you’ll have me, would you…Would you come home? With me?”

           I nod. “Please. If you’ll have me, too.”

           “I’ll always have you,” John whispers. “Don’t ever doubt it.”

           His lips mold against mine like they were specifically fitted just for me. Inside the safe haven that is my stomach, our daughter lightly moves, as if sensing that her father has come back to her.

           John’s hand rests on my belly with a wide smile. He gasps when he feels the lightest kick before she stops, resting once more.

[eskalations]

"This is about my pride, Riza." Roy reasoned, taking a few steps closer to her desk. His palms were up, as though it was the simplest explanation in the world. "If Rebecca knew I was incapable of this, she'd never let me hear the end of it."

A series of oneshots documenting the life and times of the Amestrian First Family.

A/N: Alright, fam - this was tough. I don't know WHY this was such a hard chapter to write, but it was. I had a rough week at work, so my writing muse wasn't as strong as usual. That being said, I'm not exactly happy with this chapter. I hope that despite that, and any other mistakes there are, that you still at least find this chapter somewhat readable.

Also, fun fact, that I forgot to tell you last chapter. I've always considered Xingese, the equivalent of Chinese in the FMA universe - so, when Elizabeth refers to her little sister as "Mae Mae", it's actually a reference to the Chinese term "Mei Mei" which means "little sister".

Thank you so much for reading!

~

"Of all the times we spoke of hell, this is not what I imagined – "

At Riza's unimpressed look, Roy clamped his mouth shut. He knew his dramatics were not going to earn him any positive points with his wife at the moment. She was far too tired to deal with his own childish commentary.

" – however, I would do anything to keep my wife and daughters happy." Roy finally finished – a near visible sweat drop forming at the start of his hairline. At the change of conversational direction, Riza gave him a dubious look from over the documents in her hands.

"You're sure you can handle it?"

"No," Roy answered quickly, too quickly for a man who was usually so confident. "But I don't see any other choice."

"I could ask Rebecca – "

"I would rather you didn't."

With a single blonde brow raised, Riza regarded her husband in confusion. "I don't understand why you're so against – "

"This is about my pride, Riza." Roy reasoned, taking a few steps closer to her desk. His palms were up, as though it was the simplest explanation in the world. "If Rebecca knew I was incapable of this, she'd never let me hear the end of it."

"You're acting like a child, Roy."

"No," Roy patted his chest, quite a sight in his military blues. It was almost amusing how seriously the Fuhrer was taking this. "I am acting like a man. A man does not back down from a challenge such as this."

Riza couldn't help the tired smile that appeared on her features at such conviction. "A challenge such as a sleepover?"

Her husband gave her a withering look. "Don't say it like that, you make it sound ridiculous."

His petulant expression had laughter bubbling up in Riza's throat. The sound caused Roy's heart to soar. She hadn't been laughing much in the past few months, so it was nice to hear such a happy sound coming from her lips – even if it was still tinged with exhaustion.

Before Riza could respond, she was interrupted by a cry coming from the makeshift crib that lay in the corner of the room. Without a second thought, the First Lady of Amestris was on her feet and comforting the child that lay within the soft pink blankets.

The scene had Roy sighing in defeat. The main reason for their current dilemma was the same precious bundle that was now being cradled by her mother.

Mae Mustang had certainly turned their lives upside down.

Winter had come and gone, and with it, so had the illnesses that pestered the Mustang household all season long. Following the solstice, it seemed like the girls came down with a new round of sniffles every week. Nothing hit the family near as hard as the flu that had preceded the solstice – however, both Roy and Riza had certainly had their hands full with both their daughters and their duties.

On top of all the sickness in the house, Riza's moods had not improved much over time. With an extremely colicky baby, the woman had felt as though she were doomed to never get a normal night's sleep ever again. She was quick to anger and extremely lethargic – two things that no one who was part of their circle had ever known her to be.

Once she had brought up the issue with her doctor, the woman assured her that it was a normal to feel this way after some pregnancies. Given the fact that Mae was also a very fussy baby, it was to be expected that she would feel like she was at her wit's end for the first few months of her youngest daughter's life.

Though her words had been unconcerned and gentle when she had spoken with Riza, Roy would never forget the serious expression she gave him as she pulled him to the side.

'Keep an eye on her,' she had said with concern evident in her eyes. The soft warning in her tone was enough to have Roy breaking out into a nervous sweat.

He had already been concerned, but after that, he was really concerned.

That was why, nearly four months after their second daughter's birth, Roy insisted that Riza continue to work from home. While Riza normally would have argued against this, wanting to be as close to Roy as possible at Central HQ, she had simply nodded and agreed that this arrangement was her best option for now.

While working from home, the First Lady was able to sleep in and attend to her infant daughter throughout the day. Roy had suggested hiring a nanny temporarily, just to give Riza more time on her own – however, that idea had been quickly shot down by his wife.

'Are you saying I'm incapable of taking care of my own infant daughter?' Riza had snapped at him, absolutely appalled by the suggestion. Knowing that his wife was wrought with insecurities when it came to her parenting, Roy had dropped the subject rather quickly after that.

The man hated feeling useless, but there was only so much he could do to help his wife when he was several blocks away at Central HQ. The woman refused to let him tend to their daughter at night, citing that he needed his rest in order to attend to his duties as Fuhrer. Thus, that left Riza to take care of everything, from night feedings to bathing their young, infant daughter.

In the middle of all this was poor Elizabeth, who was certainly beginning to feel slighted by all the attention that was being given to her sister. Though she had always loved the baby and wanted to be around her whenever she was home, Roy could see that the tolerant child was beginning to grow weary at the lack of attention she was receiving from her usually doting parents.

Hence, the sleepover.

Elizabeth's birthday had always been cause for great celebration in their household. While typically they held a party with both friends and family alike, Elizabeth had requested something different this year. Though her time spent with the Elric and Havoc children had been nice, she wanted to invite her own friends over from daycare for a different kind of party.

A sleepover party.

The idea was foreign to both Riza and Roy. Riza had never concerned herself with birthdays during her adolescence, since her father thought they were nothing more than another day of life and that there was no real reason to celebrate them. Roy, on the other hand, had celebrated many birthdays during his formative years – however, despite having grown up with a multitude of foster sisters, was completely unfamiliar with the concept of a sleepover.

Though both her parents had been quite hesitant of the idea at first, Elizabeth's sweet little pout and tears had finally convinced them in the end. If this was what she wanted, then this was what she was going to get.

However, Roy had not expected that he was going to have to run this gig solo.

Three days before Elizabeth's sleepover – Mae had started showing signs of teething, and suddenly the sleepless nights of colic, became something a little more.

In the past several days, the frazzled mother had maybe gotten a total of three hours of sleep. Between keeping up with Mae's feedings and comforting her as she sobbed from both the pains in her stomach and her mouth, Riza had very little time to rest. Roy could see, as the days went by, that the usually dark circles under his wife's eyes, were continuously getting darker. Not only that, but the healthy glow of her peach-colored skin, had changed into a sickly pale pallor.

It was obvious. She was exhausted.

On top of all that, Riza was still performing her duties as Amestris' First Lady. She continued to move forward with her plans for the new school she was commissioning and had even kept up with the interviews she had scheduled to help with the hiring of its faculty.

Roy had no idea how she did it. He wasn't even sure how she found the energy to dress in the morning with all she was doing.

Hence, why he had offered to take over the planning and execution of their daughter's sleepover party. Though he seriously doubted his skills in this department, he would do whatever it took to give Riza a much-needed break.

Even now, as she cradled their youngest in her arms, Roy could see the weariness in the way she bounced their child in comfort. She had never looked further from her former self than she did now. The formidable "Hawk's Eye" – now beaten down from a rather rough patch of motherhood. It was unfair.

"I want to help you." Roy told her honestly, his voice soft as Mae's cries finally began to subside. He walked over to Riza's side, wrapping an arm around her waist. "If I'm already up with the girls, then that will give you some time to rest without having to worry about Mae."

"So, you're going to take care of Mae, too?" Riza asked, doubt evident in her words. She gazed down at their daughter – all blonde hair and dark eyes, before looking back up at him. "Are you sure it won't be too much?"

"I'm positive." Roy affirmed, rubbing a comforting hand over her back. Even through the thin material of her tapioca dress, Roy could feel the notches of her spine. She had lost more weight again. With this in mind, his resolve only grew. "Besides, I won't be alone. Breda and Havoc are going to help me."

Riza's brows rose to her hairline. "How?"

"I've dismissed my bodyguards for tonight, so they're going to stand in." Roy brought a hand up to rub a hand against Mae's fevered cheeks. "I know it's technically below their rank, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

The Fuhrer rarely made Captains Havoc and Breda his guards, unless there was something really important going on, such as the birth of his daughter. However, he had already asked the men if they could free up their Saturday night to assist him on a 'mission'.

Of course, he hadn't told them what that mission was – but Roy wasn't big on details. Besides, they weren't going to say no to their boss.

Riza shook her head at the idea. "You really think those two will be able to help you?"

Roy shrugged. "Possibly."

The woman rolled her eyes at her husband's answer. "I think you just want them to suffer with you."

"I'm wounded by your words, madam."

This had Riza laughing. Roy's chest puffed up at having made her smile again. Perhaps, this was the exact thing Riza had needed – a night off. Regardless of any of the torture he was about to face in the coming hours, Roy couldn't bring himself to regret his decision. He would do anything to keep that smile alive on Riza's face forever.

"Okay." The woman finally agreed, the grin never leaving her face. "I appreciate it. I hope you know though, that if things get tough, you can come get me at any point in time."

"Trust me," Roy assured her, pulling her close to his side. "Everything will be fine."

~

Everything was not fine.

Sure, things had started out alright – but Roy was pretty sure that he would be completely grey by the end of the night.

For the first hour, Riza had stayed by his side as they greeted the parents of the little girls' who entered their home. Both parents, having always been very involved with their daughter's schooling, recognized many of the adults who usually stood outside Central Children's Daycare. Introductions were made and the children were sent up the stairs to be greeted by excited exclamations from the other little girls who were already there.

That was when things took a turn for the worst.

He had no idea his daughter had befriended a child of Ishvalan descent.

Now really, he shouldn't have been surprised. Elizabeth was incredibly loving and friendly, so any differences between her and others, were usually swept under the rug by the innocent mind of the unprejudiced child. Even after the situation with Miss Abra at the daycare, Elizabeth still knew nothing of the history her parents had with Ishval.

Roy and Riza had just been wishing one of the girls' parents farewell, when a hulking figure of a man walked through the door. His appearance had both the Fuhrer and his wife pausing – though it had nothing to do with his height or the rippling muscles that peaked through the fabric of his shirt.

It was the white hair and telltale red eyes that caused their greetings to catch in their throats. Not only that, but the stern look on the man's face made it obvious that he wanted to be just about anywhere else but there.

From behind his leg – a little girl poked her head out to look up at the parents of her friend. Like her father, the girl's hair was white as snow with eyes the color of blood. They shared the same dark features – except where there was an expression of near hatred on the elder one's face, the little girl's expression held nothing but hesitance.

Riza was the first to recover from her surprise. Behind her, Roy could hear the sound of Breda and Havoc shuffling, as though preparing for a fight.

"Hello," Riza spoke softly, as she crouched down to the young girl's level, Mae still absconded in her arms. The child shrank back a bit behind her father's leg, but continued to stare at the pretty blonde woman before her. "What's your name?"

The girl had just opened her mouth to answer, when a flurried set of footsteps made their way down the stairs.

"Etha!"

From out of nowhere, Elizabeth scurried past her parents, already sporting her light pink pajamas. Disregarding her friend's timid disposition, the Fuhrer's daughter tugged the girl from out behind her hulking father's leg and pulled her into a tight hug.

At his side, Roy watched as Riza stood from her crouched position, ready to reprimand her daughter for being so rough with her friend – however, her words died in her throat.

Etha was smiling.

"Hi Lizzie," The young girl's voice was much quieter than her friend's, but just as excited. "Thank you for inviting me."

Elizabeth pulled back to smile at the girl. Standing together, they couldn't have been more different. With Elizabeth's hair dark as night and eyes nearly the same shade, she was a stark contrast to her white-haired and red-eyed friend – yet, none of those differences seemed to change the way they regarded the other.

The girl's father, on the other hand, seemed almost hyperaware of the differences between the girls in front of him.

At the top of the stairs, the five other girls who had already arrived, called for both Elizabeth and Etha to make their way up to the second floor. They were shouting about something that had happened on the popular children's radio show Roy had already set up for them to listen to.

"Come on, Etha!" Elizabeth tugged on the other girl's hand, dragging her over towards the stairs. "It's the good part!"

The little girl went to follow her friend, holding tightly to one strap of her backpack. Before she started her ascent up the stairs, she turned around to throw her father a quick smile and wave.

"Bye, Daddy!" Etha called as she was hauled up the staircase by her overenthusiastic, newly six-year-old friend. As they reached the top, the other girls squealed before grabbing their hands and tugging them back towards the nursery.

The three parents watched the two children as they were dragged off by the others, an awkward silence hanging over them following the exit of their respective daughters. Once again, Roy could hear Havoc and Breda shift nervously in their boots at the tension that seemed to engulf the room.

"I expect her to be returned in one piece."

The man's voice was deep, the sound of it rumbling in his muscular chest. The threat laced in those words went without being said, and while Roy wished he could be offended by such a vicious accusation, he couldn't say the man's worries were born from nothing. What he had done in Ishval could never be erased from the minds of those who had been made to suffer because of his actions.

"Of course, sir." Riza responded easily, though Roy could hear the tightness in her voice. She too was upset by the man's words. "Etha will be treated just as any other child in our home."

The man glared at Riza, as though measuring her words for any sign of deception. Roy could feel his spine straighten and fingers twitch at such a threatening stare. Although the Ishvalan father had many inches over him, Roy would not hesitate to defend his wife should it come to it.

Lucky for him, such a fight was not to transpire that night.

Without so much as introducing himself, the man turned on his heel and made his way out of the house. The door slammed behind him, causing all four adults left in the room to jump at the loud sound.

"Well, boss," Havoc drawled, walking up to his two old friends with a toothpick between his lips. "That went quite well."

Roy glared at the man, raising a dark brow in challenge. "I would really hate to know what you consider bad, then."

Havoc smirked in Roy's direction. "A pancake-shaped Fuhrer."

Breda tried to hide a chuckle behind his fist, feigning a coughing spell instead. At his two subordinates' behavior, Roy rolled his eyes.

"I know you two are upset that I didn't tell you what was going on tonight – " Havoc gave him a look that clearly said 'you think'. Roy ignored this and continued on. "However, I expect you to remain professional just as always. Keep in mind, this is a very important mission."

"It's a sleepover."

"It's a girl sleepover." Havoc corrected Breda, gesturing wildly at their military blues. "And here we are, decked out as though we're facing ole' Bradley."

Riza butted in, quickly – cutting off her husband's surely snide remark. "If it's really that much of an issue, I don't mind taking care of it."

Both Breda and Havoc went silent at this. From beside Riza, Roy was glaring at the two men, his eyes telling them that they better not accept such an offer. Both soldiers knew better, though. They had seen how different Riza had been upon their trips to the house, they knew she needed this reprieve more than anyone.

"Nah, Riza." Breda finally said, sending a supportive smile her way while shoving his hands into his pants' pockets. "Like I've always told you, we'll do anything for you."

Havoc nodded, agreeing with his friend's words. "Even if it means putting up with a few female brats for a couple of hours – we'll do it if it's for you."

Riza smiled gratefully at the two men, while Roy's expression turned sour.

"Are you saying you wouldn't do this for me?"

"Nope."

"Not at all."

Such insubordination had the Fuhrer's eye twitching – however, a loud bang and a yell from upstairs caused a pause in the conversation. Before any of them could react, a round of giggles broke out, the sound traveling down the stairs. Roy groaned at the thought of what that noise could have possibly been.

Riza was about to say something, when Mae began to fuss from her place in her mother's arms. Roy gestured for her to pass the baby over, but Riza shook her head.

"Let me bathe her and feed her before you take over." The woman bounced her daughter, as her fussing got louder. "That way you'll have an easier time putting her to sleep."

Roy was going to make a comment on how nothing seemed to help Mae sleep, even after four months of life – however, Riza had already started to make her way up the stairs. Even from his spot on the ground floor, the Fuhrer could hear his wife cooing at their daughter as she rounded the corner towards the master suite.

"So," Havoc drawled, clapping a hand on his boss's shoulder. "Is there a reason you didn't employ Becky to help you with this little venture?"

Roy glared at the man behind him. "Shut up, Havoc."

~

If Roy thought that the night couldn't get any worse than the awkward interaction that had kick-started the party, he was sorely mistaken.

The cake cutting had gone alright, besides a few cases of dropped icing and misplaced forks. One of Elizabeth's friends, Grace – if Roy was not mistaken – had shared offhandedly with the man as he passed her a piece of cake, that she was deathly allergic to nuts, causing Roy to pause in his action.

Elizabeth's cake was chocolate with nuts added into the icing of the middle layer.

Narrowly avoiding a potentially harrowing situation, the man had fished out a cookie from the pantry to give the girl instead while the other children enjoyed their cake. The small, blonde girl nibbled on her sugar cookie while telling Roy about the time she had nearly died after eating a sandwich that unknowingly contained peanuts. At the description of a swollen throat and difficulties breathing, Roy could feel himself growing pale.

Havoc simply laughed from behind him, watching as the Fuhrer's face grew more and more horrified. Breda would have laughed, too – however, he was distracted by his own piece of cake.

With that situation successful avoided, Roy actually felt like he was doing pretty good on his own.

After cake had been served, the girls had been redirected to the upstairs nursery. While Breda helped Elizabeth pick up her fallen dollhouse – the culprit of the loud sound they had all heard earlier – Riza entered the room with a freshly bathed Mae.

Upon the appearance of a baby, all the girls immediately turned their attention to the Fuhrer's wife.

"That's my sister, Mae!" Elizabeth told them excitedly, following the girls as they crowded around her mother's legs to get a better look. "I like to call her Mae Mae!"

Riza herself was already dressed in a pair of soft white pajamas with hair wet and cheeks flushed from her recent shower. Roy couldn't help but think she looked absolutely angelic as she began to approach him.

"She's all ready to go." The girl's mother said as she passed him the bundle of blankets. Mae didn't even fuss as she was transferred from the warmth of her mother to that of her father. "I've already fed her, so all she'll need is a good rock before bed."

"I can do that." Roy assured her, noting the worried look in her tired, amber eyes. "Go get some rest. I'll bring her to the cradle by the bed when we're done in here."

Though she still looked worried, Riza could not hide the near visible relief that suddenly flooded her body. Giving her husband one last grateful pat on the cheek, the woman kissed her young daughter's forehead, before taking her leave of the room.

Roy turned towards his men with Mae now cradled in his arms.

"So," He started, wincing visibly as Elizabeth and Etha squealed over something that had taken place over on the other side of the room. "I'm going to go put Mae to – "

"Uh, no you're not." Havoc reached out for the baby, his hands making a grabbing motion as though Roy were about to pass over a weapon. "You're staying here, boss. I'll take baby duty."

"If you hold her like that, you'll drop her!" Breda commented, also moving forward to get in on the action. The auburn-haired man didn't want to be stuck in the nursery with the young girls either. "At least give her to me, so she can rest in peace."

"Excuse me?" Havoc asked, turning to his friend, Mae completely forgotten. "What is that supposed to mean? I have four boys!"

"Which I have never seen you hold!"

"What?! That's bullshit!"

A chorus of tiny gasps caused the men to pause in their argument. Looking over to where the seven girls were crowded around the dollhouse on the opposite side of the room, the men were met with the shocked faces of each and every one of them. Havoc almost swallowed his toothpick in fear, scared to turn and see the dark look that was surely developing on the Fuhrer's face.

"Breda, take the baby."

Havoc winced at the Fuhrer's flat tone, not even turning to watch as Mae was placed in Breda's arms. The man made himself scarce as he opened the door to Mae's small room without even throwing a glance behind him.

While the girls continued to stare, Roy clapped Havoc harshly on the back. To the girls, it would appear to be a friendly gesture – however, Havoc knew better. Instead of retracting his hand after placing it on his subordinate's back, the Fuhrer continued to hold on to the fabric of his jacket.

"Hey, Lizzie?" Roy called out, prodding Havoc to step forward and towards the girls who were still staring in their direction. "Didn't you say earlier that you wanted to play doctor?"

Havoc gulped as a round of cheers erupted from the other side of the room.

He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.

~

Roy had thought that forcing Havoc to partake in a game of doctor with the girls would somehow end up saving him from a similar fate – however, he had been wrong.

While he was already worried that all Elizabeth's friends would go home and tell their parents that the Fuhrer had some very foul-mouthed subordinates, he was even more worried that Etha's father would come and pound him into the ground for allowing his daughter to be exposed to such language. After all, the Ishvalan people were very religious, and he couldn't remember a time when he had ever heard any of them curse.

So, to distract the girls from the word that Havoc had let slip, Roy went about helping them create a makeshift "stretcher" to put the very unhappy man on.

Serves him right, Roy thought to himself as he fluffed up Havoc's pillow a bit more aggressively than any medical professional ever would. The blonde Captain gave his superior a withering look.

"Really, sir?"

Roy shrugged, allowing the young girls to take over from there, already having gathered all their "equipment" to perform a successful "surgery". The man found it all very amusing, until a tiny tug at the bottom of his jacket had him turning.

"Mr. Fuhrer Mustang, sir?" A small, black-haired child, who he believed was named Abigail, was pulling on the fabric of his coat. "Aren't you going to play with us?"

Roy opened his mouth to say no, when Elizabeth – appearing out of nowhere – began to tug at him a little more aggressively than her friend. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Daddy come play!"

"Lizzie, I don't – "

"Yeah, Daddy." Havoc mimicked the voice of a young girl from his spot on the floor. Grace was sat on his chest with a plastic stethoscope, trying to listen to the man's heart. "Come play with us."

"Havoc," Roy warned as his daughter continued to tug on his hand, leading him over to a second "stretcher" that the girls had prepared. "I don't ever want to hear those words from your mouth ever again."

The blonde man rolled his eyes, wincing as Grace reached out to hold his lids open to shine a light into them. From behind her, a young Alice scribbled away on a notepad, appearing to take notes as Grace shouted out random observations to her.

Roy was forced to remove his coat as his daughter pushed him back on to the pallet. He was suddenly surrounded by Etha, Abigail, and Lizzie, all who had donned white robes from his daughter's closet to give them the appearance of medical physicians. Two sisters, Helen and Margaret, rushed from the room to go retrieve something from Elizabeth's craft table.

"Hurry!" Elizabeth shouted after them, taking her plastic stethoscope from Grace to listen to her father's own pounding heart. "We're losing him!"

Noticing the wide-eyed stare of her father, Elizabeth leaned down with her hands on her hips. The look she gave him was quite stern. "Daddy, you have to at least act like you're dying."

Having been on the brink of death many times before, Roy had no problem playing the part of a dying patient. After heaving a sigh of resignation, the man relaxed on his back with eyes closed, mentally counting down the hours before he could finally force the girls to go to bed.

Despite the flurry of activity going on around him, and the poking and prodding courtesy of his daughter, Roy was able to get pretty relaxed atop the pallet. After a long week of talks related to a skirmish with Aerugo along the border, the man was definitely ready for a long night of rest alongside his wife.

He almost allowed himself to get lost in the image of her soft, warm body against his – when something cold and wet landed squarely on his forehead. The sensation caused his eyes to pop open, only to be met with a curious blue pair.

Helen had returned with a wet cloth and had been instructed to place it on the Fuhrer's head in an attempt to "lower" his "fever". The girl was the youngest of the bunch and the smallest as well, following the orders of the older children as they continued to move around him in mock concern.

Before Roy could comment on the water dripping into his eyes, another cold, wet sensation made him pause at it made itself known through the fabric of his shirt. From across the room, he could hear Havoc let out a yelp of surprise, as well.

"Lizzie?" Roy asked, as he tilted his head up to see what his daughter had just put on his stomach. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he watched her draw a circle with red paint over the area where his burn scar resided. "Lizzie! Where did you get that paint?!"

"Shhhh," The girl warned him, never pausing in her actions. "Daddy, we have to save you. I'm performing Alkahestry."

Roy groaned, knowing his wife was going to be unimpressed with the state of his shirt when she caught sight of it. "Lizzie – please, be careful. We don't want the paint to spi – "

Before he could even finish his sentence, a gasp broke out from the girl beside his daughter. Margaret, the dark-haired sister to the young child keeping vigil by his head, looked down at the floor in horror. The red paint can that had caused Roy such weariness, was now lying over on its side, its contents covering both the sheets of Roy's pallet and the side of his blue pants.

All the girls went silent as they stared at the mess in shock. Then, suddenly, a wail broke loose from Margaret.

"I didn't mean to Mr. Fuhrer!"

Roy, still surprised by the spilled paint all over his pants, hurriedly sat up to comfort the crying child. "Margaret, it's okay."

"Please don't arrest me!"

"Margaret," Roy reasoned, careful not to shift too much, lest he displace more red paint on to the floor of the nursery. "I'm not going to arrest you."

"I don't know, Margaret." Havoc commented from his spot on the other pallet, looking quite amused by all of this. "He's a pretty mean guy!"

"Havoc!"

The man's words only had the girl crying harder. "I wanna go home!"

While all the girls rushed to comfort their distressed friend – Roy groaned, while laying his head back down on the pallet. He was really starting to consider enlisting Rebecca's help, when the cold, wet cloth from before was placed back on to his forehead.

Looking up, Roy noticed that Helen was the only child who hadn't rushed to help her sister. Instead, she had remained by the Fuhrer's side with a bowl of water and a cold compress.

Wait a minute…

"Helen?" Roy asked, trying to gain the girl's attention. "Where did you get that water from?"

The facets were high in the manor's bathrooms, making it almost impossible for a small child to reach them unless there was a stool present. Even then, Elizabeth still had trouble reaching the knobs of the sink without the help of one of her parents. It made Roy wonder how a child of such small stature could have filled a bowl under one of the bathroom facets.

Unless…

"The toilet."

Times like these, made Roy wish he had birthed boys.

~

Breda returned to the room to find both Roy and Havoc sat on the floor and covered in paint. If he noticed the reddish tinge of Roy's freshly washed face, he said nothing.

The girls had convinced Roy to do "pretty" braids in their hair, after having seen Elizabeth come to school with them on more than one occasion. It was one of the perks of having grown up with a multitude of sisters. It was definitely something Riza was thankful for, since she had little experience with hair that was not her own.

Currently, the Fuhrer sat braiding Margaret's hair, the young girl's tears finally dried after having had her friends calm her down. No longer scared of the man behind her, the girl had agreed to let him braid her hair. Elizabeth, who sat beside her with her dark hair already braided, pointed excitedly at something in the book that lay before them.

Havoc stood from his place on the floor to greet Breda, pointing towards the mess of sheets and paint on the floor. "Want to give me a hand?"

Breda didn't even ask questions as he walked over to assist his comrade.

"I think Felix is really cute." Grace was saying, playing dolls with both Alice and Abigail. Helen scooted over so that she could watch the scene unfolding. "We shared paints last week."

"Ohhhhhh!" The two other five-year-olds giggled, their faces flushed with the idea of young love. Roy couldn't help but hope it would be a few years before he caught his dear Elizabeth saying such things about the males in her class.

As it was, his daughter seemed rather preoccupied with her book, gesturing for Etha to come over so she could show her something as well.

Roy smiled at her actions. His daughter certainly took after both him and his wife – always curious and always learning. It wouldn't surprise him, if in a few years time, she approached him about wanting to learn alchemy. He still wasn't quite sure how to feel about that one.

Once all the girls had their hair braided and their sleeping mats had been set up, Roy employed Breda to read them all a bedtime story in an attempt to tire them out. Though, from the look of their drooping eyes, it didn't seem like the men were going to have any trouble getting the girls to sleep.

While Breda and Havoc acted out the scenes from a bedtime story, eliciting giggles from the young girls curled up on the floor, Roy went to go check on Mae.

The infant was resting peacefully in her room that lay adjacent to the nursery. Roy was surprised that the noise hadn't disturbed her – however, with all the crying she had done over the past few days, the man figured she was just about as tired as her mother was. Careful not to disturb her rest, Roy picked the girl up from her crib to transport her back to the master suite.

After depositing his daughter into the small crib in his bedroom, Roy returned to the nursery, surprised to find it quieter than before.

The sight that lay before him had the Fuhrer nearly bursting into laughter.

Havoc and Breda were sat in two small nursery chairs, snoring loudly with both their heads thrown back. From the looks of it, all the girls seemed to be asleep as well.

Chuckling quietly to himself, Roy made his way over to where his daughter lay in the middle of it all. The man leaned over quick, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin of her forehead.

"Happy Birthday, Lizzie."

Roy was about to stand up once more, when a quiet, little voice had him pausing.

"Thank you, Daddy." Lizzie murmured before turning over, her new doll clutched tightly to her chest. It had been a present from her great grandpa Grumman.

"You're welcome, Lizzie." Roy replied, giving his daughter one last kiss to the head before turning the lights of the room off. With Breda and Havoc watching over them, Roy was sure the girls would be more than okay for the rest of the night.

After washing up and changing from his now ruined uniform, Roy was finally able to make it into bed to join his wife in blissful slumber. She had looked so cozy when he had moved Mae to their bedroom earlier, that all he had wanted to do was forego his nightly routine to join her.

Careful not to disturb Mae where she lay in her crib, Roy quietly reentered the room and made his way to the bed. After situating himself under the sheets, the man turned towards his wife and pulled her close to his chest, nuzzling his face in her hair.

Riza hummed tiredly. "How'd it go?"

Roy was too tired to explain the dramatics of the night. Instead, he pulled his wife closer and snuggled deeper into her embrace. "It went fine."

"Thank you." Riza kissed his chest tiredly, rubbing her nose against the skin there. "I needed a break."

"I know." Roy rubbed her back in comfort. "I certainly didn't mind giving you one."

Riza gave no response, already slumbering once more. Roy was just about to join her, when a shrill sound broke him from his semi-conscious state.

Mae had started to cry.

Fighting back a groan, Roy was just about to lift his head off his pillow when the door to his bedroom burst open and Elizabeth pushed her way through.

"Daddy!" The young girl exclaimed, ignoring the cries of her younger sister as she rushed over to her father's side. "Helen threw up on the floor!"

Now, Roy did groan.

He was really starting to hate sleepovers.

[searchingwardrobes]

Here’s another story about the characters Micah and Chloe from my novel What Hindered Love. I’m sure no summary is really needed based on the images above! This is also inspired by the story I have heard my whole life about how my dad proposed to my mom. (Spoilers, naturally.)

Words: 4k and some change

Rated: eh, a light T

Tagging:  @snowbellewells​​​​​​​ @teamhook​​​​​​​ @xhookswenchx​​​​​​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​​​​​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​​​​​​ @superchocovian​​​​​​​ @thislassishooked​​​​​​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​​​​​​ @kday426​​​​​​​ @onceuponaprincessworld​​​​​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​​​​​ @nikkiemms​​​​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​​​​ @hollyethecurious​​​​​​​ @bethacaciakay​​​​​​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​​​​​​ @welllpthisishappening​​​​​​​ @wellhellotragic​​​​​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​​​​ @captainswanapproved​

Chloe stood in front of her mirror, noting the blush rising to her cheeks as she fastened the clasp of the necklace Micah had given her for Valentine’s Day years ago. Her fingers trembled slightly, and she kept gnawing at her lower lip. It was completely and utterly ridiculous for her to be this nervous. Sure, they were calling this their “first” date, but it was far from a normal one.

“Mommy, stop staring at yourself! You look perfect already!” Her six year old cried out behind her. His voice was equal parts whiny, breathless, and excited. She laughed at his reflection in the mirror. He was jumping on her bed, alternately flinging his entire body down on the mattress then bouncing to his feet again. Luke was a mass of constant motion with a perpetual sheen of sweat and constantly mussed hair.

And Luke was the reason it was ridiculous to call this a first date. Since he inherited that dark, thick mass of messy hair as well as his bright blue eyes from his father.

“Do you think Daddy will bring you flowers? Will he take you to a ball?”

Chloe narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “A ball? Where do you think we live, Disney World?” Then she reached down and tickled her son – their son – until he was squealing with laughter. Lincoln then came bursting in, yelling, “Me too, me too!” as he tugged on Chloe’s skirt. She complied by tossing the three year old on the bed, tickling both boys anew until they were both breathlessly begging her to stop.

Just as Chloe let them go, she heard the doorbell ring. Both boys yelled, “Grandma!” and raced down the hall. Chloe glanced through the peep hole to check that it was indeed Elizabeth Barrett, then let Luke pull the door open. Both boys showered her with hugs and kisses. It warmed Chloe’s heart to see how the entire Barrett family treated Lincoln with the same love and affection as they did Luke.

Elizabeth rose from greeting the boys and gave Chloe a hug of her own. “Oh, Chloe,” she enthused, still grasping her by both arms. You look stunning.”

“Thank you,” Chloe told her as she shook out the skirt. The top of the dress was simple; black, sleeveless, and form-fitting with a scooped neckline. But the A-line skirt had an overlay with gold embroidery. It was simple, yet elegant, and accentuated Chloe’s figure without being overtly sexy. Kate, who had gone shopping with her, had gasped that it fit her personality perfectly, and Chloe had to agree. It was even comfortable, believe it or not. “Micah said he was taking me somewhere that had to do with Christmas, and gold and black works, right?”

“Absolutely,” Elizabeth agreed with a smile, “red is so overdone at the holidays. Of course, I think Micah would love you even in a paper sack.”

Chloe brushed off the compliment, that infernal blush rising to her cheeks again, and hurried into the kitchen to show Elizabeth the leftovers for dinner. She found herself rambling on about bedtime, then trailed off when she realized that Elizabeth had been taking care of Luke since he was born. But the woman just nodded and smiled. Then the doorbell rang again.

“Daddy!” Luke screamed at the top of his lungs as he darted for the door.

Elizabeth caught him in a bear hug from behind. “No, no, little man. Let your Mommy and Daddy say hello to each other.”

“Why? They say hello all the time.”

Chloe shook her head and laughed at her son’s answer, then took a deep breath and pulled the door open. She blinked as she took Micah in with a heated and appreciative gaze. Would his handsome looks ever cease to take her breath away?

“Wren,” he breathed out with an equally appreciative look on his face, “you are absolutely exquisite.”

Chloe ducked her head and blushed. Then she ran her gaze up and down his frame before giving him a crooked smile, “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

The smile that lit his face dimpled his cheeks and crinkled his eyes. His tailored suit with a shirt of deep blue and a black tie made her relieved that she had picked a fancier dress. They just stood there for a moment staring at each other as if the clock had rewound about seven years until Luke came barreling past Chloe to collide with his father’s waist.

Micah had to greet both boys and attempt to explain for the hundredth time to Lincoln why all four of them couldn’t go before he and Chloe managed to get out the door.

“Maybe I should have picked you up,” Chloe quipped as Micah helped her into the passenger’s side of his truck.

“Nonsense,” Micah argued back, “no gentleman would agree to that arrangement.”

Chloe rolled her eyes at that. “So, where are you taking me?”

“Well,” Micah told her, shifting slightly in his seat as he pulled out of Chloe’s apartment complex, “we’re driving into Boston to see a production of The Nutcracker.” He scratched behind his ear as he glanced at her nervously. “Is – is that okay?”

“Okay?” Chloe replied hoarsely, tears filling her eyes. “It’s way more than okay. I haven’t been since Sarah passed.”

He let out a deep sigh of relief. “That’s what I thought.” He then lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss there. It was so incredibly thoughtful, and so like him to remember. Chloe had always dreamed of going to see the ballet when she was a little girl, so when Sarah had adopted her, she had made a point to take her every Christmas. Even Micah had tagged along that year they were dating.

Micah didn’t release her hand. At first. But the longer he clasped her hand, the more jittery he became. She was used to him rubbing his thumb across her knuckles, but tonight his hand seemed to be going into spasms. And either Chloe was imagining it, or his hand was getting clammy. Chloe finally slipped her hand free and set it in her lap. She eyed Micah curiously. Had he gotten sick but didn’t want to cancel their date?

“Are you okay?”

Micah gave a nervous chuckle, “Sure, I’m fine.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes at him, not completely buying it, but she said nothing further. She put on a bright smile and started telling him about Luke and Lincoln’s antics at the park today, but when it dragged on into a one-sided conversation, she petered out. She gnawed on her lower lip as she gazed out the window at the fresh blanket of snow on the ground. They normally had no problem talking for hours over nothing at all, but tonight, on their first official date now that they were a couple again, he was strangely silent.

But then they arrived at the theater, and he flashed her that gorgeous smile of his. He gallantly insisted on opening her door, then took her arm like he truly was escorting her to a ball. She thought of Luke’s childish questions and couldn’t help smiling. Once inside, they were preoccupied with finding their seats, and Chloe was in awe as she always was of the theater itself. The silence between them now was a comfortable thing, and as the lights dimmed, Chloe slipped her arm through Micah’s and squeezed it. He smiled adoringly at her, and she rested her head on his shoulder as the lights came up on Clara, Drosselmeyer, and the enormous Christmas tree.

As the show went on, however, Chloe became concerned again. Micah pulled away from her to lean forward, resting his chin on his fist. Then his legs were bouncing. But the thing that concerned Chloe most was when she pulled her eyes away from Grandmother Ginger to see him kneading his left knee. She swallowed down her concern and concentrated on the remainder of the ballet.

Afterwards, Micah took her to a fancy Italian restaurant down the street from the theater. It was a gorgeous place, intimate, with fancy tablecloths and flickering candlelight. But Micah still didn’t seem like himself. Their conversation kept stalling, and he just couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting. Chloe could only nibble at her chicken parmesan and sip at her wine because of the dry lump in her throat.

On the drive back to Lightport, Micah asked her about work, and Chloe gladly talked on and on about every little thing from one of the other nurse’s new pregnancy to the new Doc McStuffins stickers that all the kids seemed to love. She actually went on a five minute tangent about how the children’s show was doing wonders to help her calm kids down when they were getting an exam. Anything to keep them from lapsing into silence again.

“They should have made a kids show about a doctor for toys ages ago,” Chloe’s chuckle sounded strained, even to her own ears. She sighed with relief when the town sign came into view.

For the first time since Boston, Micah turned to her with a tender smile. “Want to go for a walk along the beach?”

“Are you serious?”

Micah’s face fell, and a look of confusion darted across his eyes. Chloe hadn’t meant her words to come out so clipped and harsh, but what did he expect? It had been one of the most awkward dates in her entire life. With someone she thought she knew better than anyone in the world.

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

Chloe barked out a sarcastic laugh. “You can’t be that dense, Micah. You’ve acted the entire night like you’d rather be somewhere else, and now you want to take a romantic stroll along the beach?”

Micah blinked rapidly. “Chloe, you don’t understand . . . I never meant . . . that is to say . . . “

He had turned the deepest shade of red Chloe had ever seen, and he was rubbing at that knee of his again. The way he’d been acting tonight, you would think . . . Chloe gasped. When she spoke, she tempered her words carefully, “You’re not taking the pills again, are you?”

“What!” Micah yelled. “How could you think that?”

“Then answer the question!”

“Of course I’m not! You have that little faith in me?” He had gotten so upset, he had pulled the car over. He shifted in his seat to face her, rubbing the back of his neck agitatedly.

“What am I supposed to think? You’re jittery, your palms are clammy,” Chloe counted off the symptoms on her fingers, “you’re unable to focus, I mean, what else could it be?”

The color had drained from Micah’s face as she spoke, and suddenly another possibility washed over her like ice cold water.

“Or . . . “ she swallowed, her eyes filling up with tears. She shook her head briefly, and cut the tears off. “Take me home, Micah,” she whispered.

“Chloe, no, please,” Micah protested, reaching for her. Chloe shook off his hand.

“So can you explain why you’re acting so uncomfortable tonight?” Chloe sat there with her arms crossed, watching him as he stared out the windshield, his hands squeezing the steering wheel, and his jaw clenching.

“No,” he finally whispered, defeated, “I guess I can’t.”

Wordlessly, he put the truck back in drive and headed back to her apartment complex. The silence between them now was a painful, tangible thing. When he parked right outside her unit, Chloe shifted in her seat, clutching the pendant of her necklace in her fist to give her courage.

“Micah, remember how you told me that you wouldn’t push me for more than I was ready for in this relationship?” At his curious nod, she continued, “Well, that’s true the other way around. I don’t want you forcing this because . . . I don’t know, because you think I need you or because Luke wants it so badly. If the spark just isn’t there anymore, then –“

“Chloe,” he said, cutting her off, “check the glove compartment.”

He said it with almost resignation, but when she glanced at him, he had a tiny, wry smile on his face. He gestured with his hand. “Go on, just humor me. Open it.”

Chloe took a deep breath as she reached for the glove compartment. She couldn’t help flashing back to Thanksgiving seven years ago when she opened Micah’s glove compartment and an almost empty bottle of pain pills fell into her palm. But this time, she saw a small velvet jewelry box. Her mouth fell open as she cut her gaze back to Micah. His grin had widened and he gave a rueful shrug. With trembling fingers, Chloe pulled out the box and opened it. Inside glittered an engagement ring. A simple, round diamond with two other tiny round diamonds set on either side of it. Chloe blinked, her mind reeling.

“This,” she whispered, “is why you were so nervous tonight?”

“Aye.” There was a long pause before he continued. “I know it sounds crazy, since this is only our first date since we got back together. But, Chloe, that ring is honestly seven years overdue. When I bought you that necklace, I looked at rings first. I almost bought one. Maybe I should have.”

Chloe placed a hand gently on his arm. “No, Micah. We weren’t ready then.”

He pulled in a deep, shuddering breath and nodded. “But I’m ready now, Chloe. I’ve wanted this for years, if I’m being completely honest. And like I said, I know it might seem fast, but think about it. We’ve actually been dating for eight months anyway and were just in denial about it.”

Chloe was able to chuckle at that. “You sound like Maggie.”

Micah managed a nervous laugh himself and then shrugged. “Well, she was right.” He ran his tongue nervously along his bottom lip as he shifted closer to her and clasped both her hands in his. She could tell he was completely earnest and sincere right now, but all she wanted to do was grab him and kiss him.

“So, Chloe, will you marry me?”

That was it. She couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. They poured down her cheeks, and he grasped her face tenderly, wiping them away as they fell. She managed to nod, and then finally to speak. “Yes, yes, of course I will.”

He kissed her then, and her tears turned to deliriously happy smiles. He managed to slip the ring on her finger, despite the way she kept peppering his face with kisses. Then their lips met again, with passion this time, and it was all Chloe could do to pull herself away. She laughed at Micah’s whimper of protest, but grasped his face and rubbed his nose with hers.

“Sorry, but we’ve got a kid inside who is going to flip out over this news.”

Micah wholeheartedly agreed. They hurried inside to find both Luke and Lincoln asleep on either side of Micah’s mother. She looked up at them sheepishly, knowing she had been caught spoiling them, but Chloe cut off her apologies by holding out her hand to show off the ring. Micah’s mother leapt from the couch, pulling Chloe immediately into a tight hug. When she pulled away, tears shone in her eyes, and she held both hands up to her mouth. When she finally spoke, her words shocked Chloe.

“It’s about time.”

Micah laughed and leaned down to brush a kiss to his mother’s cheek. Chloe decided to refrain from reminding her how she felt about the two of them getting married seven years ago.

“Mom, we want to go ahead and tell Luke,” Micah whispered.

Elizabeth nodded her head in understanding, quickly gathered her things, and hurried out. Chloe and Micah then knelt beside the couch and began gently shaking their son. Finally, his eyes blinked open and he frowned at the sight of the two of them.

“Waz – goin on,” he muttered as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Look what Daddy got Mommy,” Chloe told him, showing him the ring on her finger. Luke furrowed his brow and rubbed at his hair as he stared at it.

“That’s nice,” he finally muttered, collapsing back down on the couch, his eyes falling shut.

Micah laughed as he shook the boy again. When Luke finally opened his eyes again, Micah explained, “We’re getting married, little buddy. Mommy and Daddy are getting married.”

Luke sat bolt upright at those words, his eyes growing as wide as saucers. “Seriously?” he asked. Chloe and Micah nodded. “Yes!” Luke cheered as he leapt from the couch. “This. Is. Awesome! Are we all moving into Daddy’s apartment? Or will we get a house? Do I need to pack right now? Will Lincoln call you Daddy now too? Awesome, awesome, awesome!”

Chloe and Micah laughed as they watched Luke run circles around the room. Getting him back to bed proved to be impossible, so Chloe and Micah both changed out of their fancy clothes and cuddled up with both boys on the couch to watch Star Wars: A New Hope. Amazingly, Lincoln only woke up long enough to mutter unintelligibly and then curl into a ball on Micah’s lap.

They woke up like that the next morning, Chloe in the crook of Micah’s arm with Luke’s head in her lap, and Lincoln splayed across Micah’s chest.

Her engagement ring sparkled in the light of dawn.

**********************************************************

Eight weeks later, Chloe is standing in front of the sanctuary doors of Community Fellowship, dressed in a form fitting, white lace gown. Her hair is in a low bun, a simple veil tucked into it. Luke is clutching her right arm, bounding on his heels, and her left hand clutches her simple bouquet of pink roses. In some ways, it’s hard to believe they pulled this off in only eight weeks.

In other ways, it had been the longest eight weeks of her life.

Of course, when your fiancée, his brother, and your two cousins run a catering and event business, pulling off a last minute wedding is nothing. And Micah’s dad being a pastor meant they had no trouble reserving the church – for free. On Valentine’s Day.

Yes, it is Valentine’s Day. If someone had told Chloe even a year ago that she would be marrying Micah today, she would have laughed. She laughs now, thinking about her phone call to Micah a year ago exactly and how she mistakenly thought he was dating someone else.

“What’s so funny, Mommy?” Luke asks.

Chloe shakes her head, “Nothing kid, I’m just happy, that’s all.”

Luke grins broadly, revealing the two front baby teeth he recently lost. “Me too, Mommy.”

The first notes of the song “God Bless the Broken Road” by Rascall Flatts begins to play from inside the sanctuary. It’s their cue. With a deep breath, Chloe pulls the doors open and steps inside. As she walks down the aisle, every word of the song rings true for the journey that brought them here. She is torn between locking her eyes with Micah’s at the end of the aisle to looking down at their son, who looks happier than she’s ever seen him. As for Micah, his grin threatens to split his face, and his eyes are filled with so much tender awe, that it almost makes her start crying already.

The song ends as they reach the front, and she can’t tear her eyes from Micah’s. Pastor Ryan, who is officiating, opens by asking, “Who gives this woman to be wed to this man?”

“I do!” Luke shouts enthusiastically, shoving his hand up in the air. Everyone chuckles at his exuberance. Luke then turns to point to Lincoln. The three year old was the ring-bearer and he’s currently attempting to share Elizabeth Barrett’s lap with the flower girl, Josiah and Kate’s little girl Haley. “And my brother, too. We’re both excited for Mommy and Daddy to get married.”

The congregation laughs again, especially when Luke fist bumps his father before going to join the rest of the family on the front row. Once it has died down, Ryan glances at the couple mischievously before beginning the homily.

“Well, I think all of us here at Community Fellowship would agree on one thing: It’s about time!” Ryan’s opening is greeted not only with laughter, but even a few amens. Behind Micah, Josiah shoves him teasingly in the shoulder. Chloe glances back to see Maggie giving her a smug look.

“I also think,” Ryan continues, “that we all got a little tired of watching these two date while swearing they weren’t.”

Micah rolls his eyes at Ryan, but his smile shows that the ribbing doesn’t really bother him. As for Chloe, she can’t seem to wipe the stupid smile off her face. Ryan wraps up his short message, then tells Micah to share his vows. Chloe turns and gives her bouquet to Maggie and almost loses it when she sees Kate and Hannah wiping at their tears. She takes a deep breath as she turns to Micah and takes his hands in hers. She anchors herself in his bright blue eyes.

“First, Chloe,” he begins, “I have to say that I don’t deserve you –“

“Stop,” Chloe breaks him off with a hand to his lips. She blushes as she glances at Ryan. “Sorry, I just can’t let him say that.” She looks back at her groom. “Micah Barrett, you are a good man, and I am honored to become your wife.”

Micah smiles as her fingers slip from his lips, and he quirks a brow at her. “I thought I was the one saying my vows right now.”

Chloe ducks her head, blushing slightly as the congregation laughs once more. Kilian releases one of her hands and grasps her chin gently. He tilts her face to look at him, and he says his vows while his thumb ghosts along her jaw.

“Chloe, I think we have an advantage over some newlyweds. We already know that neither of us is perfect. And we understand that we don’t have to be. We choose to see the best in each other, and I vow to keep doing that every day for the rest of my life. It always amazes me how you can’t see how big your heart is. The way you forgive. The way you never give up on people. And I vow today to make it my job to cherish you. With my words and my deeds. Forever and always.”

Chloe can hear several people sniffling in the audience when Micah finishes, but for some reason a calm has settled over her. Micah’s gaze is like a peaceful place in the storm. She grasps the hand that still cups her cheek and kisses it before clutching both his hands firmly in hers.

“Micah, if I’m being honest, I’ve longed for this day since I was 19 years old. Then I thought I had to put that dream aside. But look what God has done. Using our son to bring us back together.” Her voice falters for a moment, her tears threatening to spill over. Micah gives her a tiny nod of encouragement. “And so I choose today to look forward, not behind. When we were young, we were lovers. Now we’re best friends. And today my vow is to take it one step further: to be your soulmate. Your partner in all things. Forever and always.”

Her tears are slipping down her cheeks now, but she doesn’t care. Micah reaches out and catches one with his thumb. The rest of the service goes by in a blur, from the exchanging of rings to Kate and Hannah’s duet. Then Ryan is giving them a knowing grin.

“I am blessed and honored, in front of all these witnesses, to now pronounce you husband and wife. What God has joined together, let no one put asunder.”

There is a long pause, and finally they both glance curiously at Ryan. For Micah, it’s more of a glare.

“Oh, did I forget something?” Ryan asks, feigning ignorance. Once he’s gotten sufficient laughter from the crowd, he smiles and says, “That’s right. I forgot. You may kiss the bride!”

Chloe surprises Micah by pouncing first, grabbing him by the lapels of his tux and hauling him in. He catches up quickly, though, kissing her back with fervor that elicits hoots from the crowd. He then dips her dramatically. He holds her close as he sets her back on her feet, and whispers for only Chloe to hear.

“What was that you said years ago about not feeling comfortable making out in church?”

Chloe leans back to see the cocky, slightly rebellious smirk of a smart-ass pastor’s kid. She then pulls in close and whispers back, “You’re my husband now, making out with you is considered holy.”

Micah waggles his eyebrows. “As a PK, I can confirm that your opinion is scripturally and theologically sound.”

Chloe rolls her eyes and kisses him again for good measure, thrilling slightly at the teasing reprimands from the rest of the family. They’ll just have to get used to it. Because forever and always is a very long time.

[bellemorte180]

Just Good Business, Chapter Six: Epilogue

Caroline Salvatore, married into one of New York's most brutal crime families.

Niklaus Mikaelson, a notorious mob boss who is hell bent on taking down the Slavatores.

It's an affair for the ages.

Warning: Graphic descriptions of violence.

One Year Later

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this Gorgeous?” Enzo asked from the front seat. His dark eyes shown concern and Caroline could not help but smile at him. He knew the affect the strain of the last few months had on her and while it was far better than the life she had prior, the fall out of their schemes were not exactly a walk in the park. “You gave birth only a few months ago. Are you sure you don’t want to be home with Kol?”

Caroline smiled lightly at the thought of her son. Kol Niklaus Mikaelson came into the world screaming and wild. Even at four months old, Kol was untamable. He was sitting, scooting and just demanding attention. Klaus liked to joke as though it was his brother re-born while Caroline countered that while their son was named after his deceased uncle, that child was all Klaus. The baby even had the curly blonde hair already and his father’s dimples.

“Do you trust Bonnie so little?” She teased and Enzo rolled her eyes. Realizing that while she loved her son, Caroline wanted more of the world than to be just a mother. She started working at Klaus’s shell company and began heavily involved in his other businesses. Caroline found that she was really good at criminal activity; especially when it came to moving illegal substances across state lines and bringing them into the country. Her organization skills were impeccable and having grown up the daughter of the police chief, she knew how the NYPD operated.

However, that meant they needed someone to be stay with Kol when they could not. Klaus refused to hire just anyone. Interview after interview and yet they found no one. When Enzo mentioned that Bonnie had a degree in early childhood development before her sickle cell anima took root, they were intrigued. Caroline loved Bonnie immediately and Klaus could not tell her no.

Bonnie was funny, genuine and knew exactly what kind of work they were involved with; she had to since she was involved with Enzo. She was also strong. After a stem cell transplant, she seemed to be on the mend, much to Enzo’s relief. Bonnie started caring for Caroline during the end stages of her pregnancy and was with Kol during the day while his parents were at work; surrounding by bodyguards. Klaus was not about to risk his son’s safety. Only the best and most trusted guards were posted with Kol and Bonnie at all times.

“She loves that kid more than she loves me but I’m more worried about you. Are you sure you want to walk in there?” Enzo asked. In truth, Caroline was ready for this fiasco to be done and over with. When she walked out of her living room, leaving Stefan’s dead body behind; she did not know exactly what was to follow. The media circus and trial that followed were rough.

Stefan’s body was found the following morning. Police and FBI descended upon the home. Elijah happily turned over all the footage they collected from the cameras planted in their home; deleting the footage of Caroline. Adding in the fact that Elena’s body washed up on the shore of the Hudson River, it was easy to get a federal warrant to arrest Damon.

Damon was charged with two counts of first-degree murder and received a life sentence without the option of parole. While Alaric Saltzman was able to get Stefan out of jail due to the lack of evidence used against him for the murders of Meredith Fell and Elizabeth Forbes, there was video evidence of Damon committing Stefan’s murder and his confession to Elena’s.

But it just wasn’t enough. Not for Elijah and certainly not for Klaus.

As for Caroline, she was painted as a hero. The media portrayed her as an abused wife who turned informant for the FBI, feeding them information on her husband for months. There were photos of the beatings Caroline sustained at the hands of Stefan. They painted the story that she tried leaving multiple times but was unable to; held prisoner by Stefan. She learned of Stefan’s affair and the moment she was able to break free, she informed Damon of his wife’s infidelity. Her own affair was conveniently left out of the papers.

She, of course, had no idea that Damon would fly off the handle in such a manner.

The jury loved her. She was beautiful, sympathetic and heavily pregnant. It was reported that it was her testimony that caused the jury to come back with a guilty verdict in less than fifteen minutes. Damon was carted off and the Salvatore organization dismantled. Many of the criminals were on the run from Klaus’s vast network. It should have been over; but the pesky issue of Damon still being alive bothered both Elijah and Klaus. Despite the fact that Rebekah moved back to New York- they wanted anyone involved with their brother’s death stamped out.

Caroline suggested that they have him murdered in prison, but Klaus replied that it lacked finesse. They wanted to watch him die much like Caroline needed that closure when the life left Stefan’s eyes. She could not begrudge them; which was why Caroline was sitting in a black car in the middle of alleyway, in front of the same warehouse Enzo took her to meet Klaus the day she learned of her mother’s murder.

When Elijah realized that Damon was going to be transferred to a federal prison out of state, he easily arranged for that transport to be intercepted. “Yes.” Caroline took a deep breath and opened the car door. Once she was safely inside the warehouse, she looked over to see Enzo drive off. No need for him to escort her inside this time. She knew exactly what was waiting for her. She walked down the quiet vacant warehouse.

There was not much in the warehouse. Officially, Caroline learned that it was owned by the bank after a business went bankrupt. She knew, of course, that through several back channels that it belonged to Klaus and was used for some of his shadier business practices; like torture, body dismemberment and convincing a wife to betray her husband. However, Klaus currently was using the warehouse for storage of some old artifacts that were shipped in illegally from Europe. Caroline herself had overseen the shipment and was rather proud of the fact that the plan went smoothly. So, the warehouse was filled with crates, canvases and other priceless things that were to be sold on the black market. As she weaved through the mess that she was already mentally organizing, she began to hear voices.

“Tell me Damon, how does it feel to hit rock bottom?” Klaus’s voice sounded, echoing through the warehouse. Caroline rolled her eyes. While she loved Klaus and felt as though she was going to spend the rest of her mafia induced life with him, she could admit that he had the tendency to be a bit over dramatic.

“Fuck you.” Damon’s voice replied but it lacked the bravado that Caroline had come to associate with him. Damon always seemed confidant and in control; even if he seemed far too impulsive for her taste. Elena’s affair, the trail and everything that followed must have really destroyed him. Stefan was always Caroline’s monster and now that he was dead; she almost felt bad.

But she would never deny Klaus his need for revenge, especially when it came to Damon; who after all, was responsible for his brother’s murder.

“You’re not really my type.” Klaus replied in a smart tone. “That and I am happy to report that I am off the market. In a very serious relationship. Very committed.”

“Word of advice, I thought the same thing. Turns out my wife fucked my brother and look where that got me.” Damon replied and Caroline rolled her eyes again. If she was being honest, Caroline could not help but agree that in this matter. He did not ask to be cheated on. She could understand how that would rip someone’s heart out, especially when he loved Elena as much as he did. While Caroline did not see what Damon saw in Elena, she wasn’t completely heartless.

“I have no worries in that regard.” Klaus replied in a throw away tone. “Would you like to meet her? I think I hear her coming now.” Caroline looked down at her expensive high-heeled boots and cursed. The clicking the heel made as it hit the cement flooring didn’t even faze her; she had become so accustomed to the sound that she no longer heard it. “Sweetheart?”

Caroline sighed and walked around the massive amounts of crates and the pillar that was perched in the middle of the massive room. While the majority of the warehouse was pretty much dark but this particular section was slightly better lit due to the flimsy light swinging over Damon’s head. Damon was handcuffed to a metal chair and in a bright orange jumpsuit that did nothing for his complexion.

There were a few men standing behind him wearing FBI jackets that Caroline recognized as men who worked for Klaus. She had dealt with them from time to time over the last year and they seemed to be rather intimidated by her. She did not know if it was because she was with Klaus or good at her job; she liked to pretend it was the latter.

Across from Damon was Klaus, sitting in an identical chair but seemed far more relaxed. He wore a white button dress shirt and slacks; telling Caroline that he had come directly from the office. Elijah was standing over his shoulder, looking at Damon with unabashed hatred. The two brothers had been looking to this moment for well over two years. All their planning, patience and scheming was coming to fruition; Caroline did not even care that she was being used as a prop piece to rub salt into Damon’s already deep wound.

The look on Damon’s face was priceless. He seemed shocked at her appearance, his bright blue eyes widening and his jaw going slightly slacked. Caroline was sure that she was the last person he ever expected to see; let alone be with Klaus. However, his shock quickly dissipated, and Damon narrowed his eyes.

“I believe the two of you know each other well so introductions will not be necessary.” Klaus stated and Caroline held Damon’s gaze. Despite Klaus bravado, Caroline did enjoy seeing Damon’s fury. To drive the point home, Caroline walked over to Klaus, weaving her fingers through his hair and pulled his head back slightly. She leaned down and kissed Klaus on the lips. The kiss turned deep, passionate and long. When they broke apart, they both turned to look at Damon with hooded eyes. However, Damon seemed to have cooled his features.

“Don’t tell me that Klaus is going to be playing daddy to my niece or nephew.” Damon quipped and Klaus narrowed his eyes. The one things Elijah wanted to keep quiet during the trial was the fact that Caroline and Klaus were having an affair. Elijah felt that her testimony could be tainted and would be prejudice against her if discovered. Much to Klaus’s chagrin, they kept that news of their relationship quiet. The world saw a pregnant Caroline, assuming that the child she carried belonged to Stefan. Damon apparently was under the same impression; assuming she left Stefan because of the baby. “And here I was thinking of setting up a trust fund for the kid.”

“My son is none of your concern Damon.” Caroline replied in a sweet voice. “In fact, my son is not even related to you.” At first Damon appeared confused. It took a few seconds, but the truth dawned on him. His eyes flickering between the two of them with wild eyes. “There it is. I knew he would figure it out eventually.”

“No. Seriously?! Him?”

“For a good long while, actually.” Caroline replied. “All those times you and Stefan reveled your plans in front of me, I listened and went straight to Klaus. The sex was just a bonus.”

“I take it my brother did not know of this little…affair.” Damon replied. “He would have killed you the second he found out about it.”

“Remember how you beat Stefan to death?” Klaus asked and Damon froze at the mention of his crime. Caroline could see a hint of sadness in his eyes; almost as though he regretted killing his brother. Although, she would bet he regretted Elena’s death more. Even in the worst betrayal, he still loved her. “Well, Caroline and I watched it all.”

“The hidden cameras I take it?”

“Yes.” Caroline replied. She knew that Damon had a lapse of judgment the night he killed Stefan. He knew that Caroline got the footage of the numerous sex acts Stefan and Elena preformed from her home, but due to his anger; he didn’t consider the fact that the cameras would be on while he killed Stefan. He was too blinded by rage. “I watched you beat him. Then I needed him to know that it was me. That I was fucking Klaus right under his nose and that I was carrying his child. Then I sat down and watched him die.”

“Stefan must have really fucked you up Blondie if you jumped into bed with Klaus. Do you really think he will treat you any better? My advice, take the kid and run before he ruins you further.” Klaus jumped up and hit Damon across the face. The hit was hard enough that knocked a few teeth loose; blood splattering on the ground.

“Niklaus. Temper.” Elijah all but sang. However, his eyes never left Damon. Caroline learned that while Klaus ran hot, his temper flying in his extreme Machiavellian plans while Elijah was as cold as the artic. She honestly did not know which was more terrifying. Klaus reached down and gripped Damon’s chin. Klaus looked him in the eye, bending down to him.

“I may be a monster, but I would never lay a hand on Caroline in the manner your brother did. You did the entire world a favor when you took him out. I wanted to kill him myself, but Caroline wanted to watch him die slowly. You gave her that.”

“Much better than the Bundt-cake pan you and Elena picked out as our wedding gift.” Caroline teased. Klaus wasn’t laughing or finding the situation humorous. He was still staring down at Damon. Elijah called at his brother, but Klaus wasn’t budging. Caroline walked over to Klaus and touched his arm; pulling his hand from Damon’s jaw. “You can end this. Now. Put a bullet in his brain and let us go home to our son.”

“Look at you.” Damon replied, spitting more blood onto the ground. “Talking a man into murder. Never thought you were capable of it.” Damon toyed. “Then again, I never thought you were capable of anything really.” Klaus hit Damon across the face again and Caroline could see the blood trickle down his pale skin. “Always the dumb blonde who was shallow and useless.”

“Bite your tongue.”

“He is baiting you Niklaus.” Elijah chimed in. He walked around the chair. He looked down at Damon and placed his hand on Klaus’s chest. “Let me have a word with Mr. Salvatore. You said your piece. You dangled Caroline in front of him; showing him exactly how you bested him. You’re not the only one who has a matter to settle with him.”

Klaus nodded and let go Damon’s chin. Instead, he linked his hand with Caroline’s and pulled her to him. He kissed the top of her head. Caroline rested her head on Klaus’s chest while Elijah pulled the chair Klaus was sitting in closer to Damon. He sat down and looked at Damon deeply; his gaze never wavering. Caroline was seeing Elijah the agent, the man who rose high in the FBI.

“When Kol was fifteen he got a little too drunk one night. Decided to hot wire a car and drove around New York and as expected he got into a car accident. Killed a young woman. A secretary for some financial firm. He was arrested and facing being tried as an adult for vehicular manslaughter. I was a young man in the FBI then but had high connections. I got Kol out of trouble. Cleaned up his mess.”

“Is there a point to this little story?”

“Brothers do anything for one another. I would do anything for Kol as I would Niklaus or Rebekah.” Elijah drawled. “While I could never imagine the pain, you must have felt seeing Stefan and Elena together. When you love someone and they betray you, it feels unforgivable.” He cocked his head. “If Niklaus or Kol betrayed me in such a manner. I still do not think I would have the ability to do what you did to your brother.”

“Your point?”

“We are all monsters here. Kol was. I myself have committed treason, murder, espionage and all manner of sins that will condemn my soul. Niklaus runs the largest criminal organization this city has ever seen and has more blood on his hands than even you do. My little sister, who on an occasion has convinced multiple wealthy men to hand over their fortunes to her, is no innocent.” There was a smile that graced his lips when he spoke of Rebekah. “Caroline, while her hands are not as bloody as ours, she too has darkness in her. My family are filled with monsters but none of us ever betrayed each other. Stefan betrayed you but you committed the ultimate betrayal when you took his life.”

“Spare me the lecture, twiddle dumb. If you’re going to kill me, just do it because your yammering is driving me insane.” Damon bit out. Caroline cocked her head to the side. She eyed Damon; something was off with him. The way his shoulders sagged and there was no spark in his eyes. His smirk was off. His voice was off. Everything about his was wrong.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Caroline asked. She moved away from Klaus and walked closer to Damon. Her eyes searched him, looking for some spark of humanity left; but she found nothing. While Stefan was a void of anything remotely good; beyond his feelings for Elena, Damon was the opposite. He put on a bravado but there were human emotions underneath it all. “You hate yourself. I should have seen it at the trial. You never spoke or defended yourself. You just sat there and let twelve people decide your fate. You didn’t even try. The Damon I knew would have blackmailed and bribed his way to freedom.”

“Get to the point Blondie.”

“You want to die.” Caroline said. “You want them to kill you.” Damon said nothing, unable to deny the truth. “You cannot live with yourself. You killed your own brother and your wife. You hate yourself for it. It’s why you did nothing to defend yourself or even try and find a way out of prison. The Damon I knew…. you’re not it.”

“You’re more perceptive than I gave you credit for.” Damon shook his head. “Kill me. You know you want to Caroline. I stood by and let Stefan beat you. How many times did he rape you? Because that is what it was, wasn’t it? You never wanted him. You laid for him because you had too. He told me that you fucked you the night he killed your mother. I laughed. I thought it was hilarious.”

Klaus attempted to lunge at him, but Elijah held him back.

“Brother, he is baiting you. I think Caroline has a point.”

“He wants us to kill him.” Klaus hissed. He thought about killing Damon since he found Kol’s body. His hate for the both of them only grew once his feelings for Caroline grew. “I say we give him what he wishes and send him to an unmarked grave to be forgotten.”

“No.” Caroline said; not tearing her eyes from him. “Let him live. Let him live everyday with the knowledge of what he did. Throw him in a cage and let him rot from the rest of his life. He does not deserve the mercy of an easy death. Kill him and he wins.”

“He knows to much Caroline. He could talk.” Elijah pointed out.

“Then cut out his tongue.” She turned to look at both Elijah and Klaus; both of whom looked at her like she lost her mind. “Cut out his tongue so he can’t speak. Mangle his hands so he cannot write. He will have nothing left beyond the memory of killing his brother and drowning his wife in the Hudson. He won’t be able to do anything else.”

Klaus stepped forward and looked at Caroline. His eyes held disbelief, wonder and lust all mixed into one. As though he couldn’t believe that she actually existed. After a moment, Klaus pulled Caroline to him and kissed her furiously. Not being able to help herself, she pressed her body into him. His hands roamed all over her body and she could feel the heat begin to pool between her legs.

“Niklaus. You’re getting distracted.” Elijah’s voice interrupted them.

“You’re a goddess.” Klaus stated as their lips broke apart, completely ignoring his brother. “I plan on rewarding you later.” That gleam and mischief were back, and Caroline could not help but giggle at seeing it. He pulled away from her and walked over to one of the crates. He picked up a crowbar that was leaning against a wooden crate. He wedged the crowbar underneath the lid of one and ripped it off. Sliding the slip end into a rusted nail, he pulled it from the wood. Turning towards the two agents, Klaus pointed at them. “Uncuff him and bring him to his knees.”

“Niklaus, what are you doing?” Elijah asked as the agents followed his brother’s command. Damon was uncuffed from his chair and fought the two agents, but they overpowered him easily. He was pushed down onto his knees.

“Following my girl’s command. What kind of lover would I be if I just ignored such a brilliant plan!” Klaus replied, an overexcited grin taking over his face. “Place his hand, palm up on the chair and hold him still.” The agents once again obeyed; forcing a Damon who was struggling to place his hand on the chair. Klaus walked up to him and placed the sharp end of the nail directly into his palm; digging in ever so slightly. He paused for a moment, raised the crowbar and brought it down onto the nail. The nail went directly into the palm of his hand; Damon screaming as he did so. Klaus repeated the action, over and over until Damon’s nailed was nailed to the chair.

“You’re probably going to give him tetanus using that nail.” Elijah stated, completely unfazed by the scene in front of him. Caroline winced slightly at every scream but didn’t look away. Damon was withering on his knees and appeared to be in extreme pain.

“Then he will have a very painful end.” Klaus replied. He slipped the split end of the crowbar into the nail again and leveraged it so it slid out of Damon’s hand. He repeated the action with another part of his hand before tossing the nail down to the ground. Klaus then brought the crowbar down onto Damon’s fingers with such force, Caroline could hear the bones cracking in his hand. “The other hand.”

Klaus repeated his actions, giving Damon’s other hand the exact same treatment. Once Klaus was done ruining Damon’s hands, Caroline knew that they would be no use to him anymore. No longer would he be able to write or hold the simplest of objects. They were completely mangled. The agents dropped him to the floor once Klaus tossed the crowbar to the side. Damon’s cries of pain turned into a whimper as he cradled his ruined hands to his chest.

“Are you done Niklaus?”

“Absolutely not. We still have the matter of his tongue to deal with.” Klaus stated, not caring that his white shirt now had blood spatters on it around the waistline. Caroline was already imaging how much bleach she would have to use to get the stains out; something he became very good at in the past few months. “Unless you would like to cut it out? I’m sure I can find some plyers in this place.”

Elijah sighed, contemplating and then took off his winter jacket. Caroline held out her hand and took the coat from him. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, slinging that over the other chair. Klaus, grinning like a maniac, pointed to one of the agents, commanding him to find him a set of plyers. Within minutes the agent returned and handed the pair of plyers to Elijah.

“Now, brother, while you take care of his tongue; I need to have word with my girl.” Klaus stated, pulling Elijah’s jacket from Caroline’s arms; tossing to lay with his suit jacket. “We will find you once you’ve completed the act. The lack of screams will be our signal.”

Klaus grabbed Caroline’s hand and pulled her away from the rest of the group. She looked over her shoulder to see Damon struggling in the agents’ arms while Elijah waited patiently for him to settle. They all fell out of sight when Klaus turned a corner and all Caroline could hear was Damon began to give a throaty scream. Klaus weaved them through crates of wooden boxes that Caroline was mentally taking inventory of; something she was going to actually be doing with in the coming weeks.

“Where are we going?”

“Through here.” Klaus pointed through a small opening in a cluster of crates and pulled her through. He turned to face her and immediately pulled her into a kiss. It was heated and passionate. Caroline pressed her body to his and she could feel his erection pressing into her stomach. She bit her lip and tried to not grin. “You are a goddess. That mind of yours, it is a wonder.”

“Well, it is my best feature.” She teased, blocking out Damon’s screams that echoed throughout the warehouse. Klaus allowed his hands to roam over her body and he gripped her behind, squeezing her buttocks; causing Caroline to squeal. “Klaus!”

“It was what made me fall in love with you.” He leaned down and kissed her again. Caroline wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His hands moved towards her winter coat and unbuttoned it. He pushed it off her shoulders and let it hit the ground. “Watching you order the mutilation of my enemy, it does things to me that I cannot explain. All I wanted to do was please you and then fuck you.”

“Then do it.” Klaus took her shoulders, turning her around and pushing her up against the wooden crates. Caroline braced herself, palms resting against the wood. He palmed her breasts through her shirt and pressed his clothed erection into her behind. He pressed his nose into her hair, inhaled before biting her ear. “Klaus.”

“You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.” Klaus whispered in her air. His hand snuck his way under her shirt as his lips descended upon her neck. His free hand gripped her blonde hair and pulled her head to the side, giving him more access to her pulse point. His tongue peeked out and dragged it up the side of her neck. “Even after the last year and a half together, having Kol and you just being by my side, is not enough for me.”

“I’m yours.” Caroline breathed out in a throaty moan. Klaus pinched Caroline’s nipple through her bra causing her to hiss; pressing her behind into his erection harder. He groaned into her ear, thrusting his hips forward. “What did you like more? When I figured out that he wanted to die or when I told you to cut out his tongue.”

“Both.” Klaus hissed. His hand snaked down her abdomen to the top of her pants. He unbuttoned them, pulled down the zipper and yanked the pants down to her ankles. Caroline spread her legs enough to give Klaus access to her center. He ran his across her center, causing her to moan in delight. “Wet for me already. Tell me love, did you enjoy bossing me around? Commanding me, bending me to your will?” Klaus twirled the bundle of nerves on her clit while biting her neck. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I enjoyed it.” She whimpered. She reached behind her and palmed him through his pants. Klaus groaned at the contact, whispering her name in her ear. “I enjoyed taking control. I enjoyed seeing you in your element, hurting him. Hurting him because I told you to. I enjoyed the power I had but do you know what else I enjoy?” Caroline asked, causing Klaus to hum in her ear; his fingers still rubbing her clit. “I enjoy it when you fuck me. I enjoy it when you’re inside me and all I can feel is you, thrusting and pulsing until I fall apart.”

Not being able to take her teasing any longer, Klaus pulled at his belt buckle and pushed his pants down. He aligned himself with Caroline’s entrance, coating himself in her juices and pushed inside of her. They both cried out at the feel of them together. Slowly, Klaus withdrew before pushing back in. Over and over, Klaus thrusted into her.

Caroline’s screams echoed off the walls. Neither could hear the screaming occurring at the other end of the warehouse. They were so involved with their lovemaking that nothing else occurred to them. The sound of their skin slapping together, and their moans only caused Klaus to move faster. He grasped her hair and pulled her head back. Feeling the pull of her hair was enough to send Caroline over the edge.

Her orgasm rippled through her body; screaming Klaus’s name as she came. He continued to thrust into her while she fell over the edge. Knowing that Klaus was not near his peak yet, Caroline smirked. She pushed off the crate and Klaus, taken off guard, stumbled ever so slightly, slipping out of her as he went. Caroline turned and pushed him gently, causing his back to hit the crates on the other side of the wall.

Caroline grabbed his head and pulled him into a deep kiss; her nails trailing a small trail down his chest. Her kiss traveled from his lips to his jaw and then down his neck. She kissed his chest until he sunk down to his chest until she was on her knees. She was eye level with his penis and gave his one long lick.

“Christ Caroline.” Klaus hissed out, weaving his fingers through her hair. Caroline took Klaus into her mouth and began to bob up and down. She massaged his balls and Klaus’s fingernails dug into her scalp. His eyes rolled back into his head. It wasn’t long before Klaus found himself spilling into her throat; Caroline drinking it all. After she licked his penis one last time, Caroline stood and kissed Klaus on the lips, letting him taste their juices mixed together on her lips.

“If the two of you are done, Mr. Salvatore is being loaded up and transported to receive medical attention.” Klaus groaned in frustration. Caroline, blushing, bent down and pulled up her pants. Klaus tucked himself into his pants and picked up Caroline’s coat. He put it on her shoulders and kissed her forehead. They linked their hands together and they walked around the crates. Elijah was standing there, cleaning his hands of blood; ignoring the fact that his shirt was covered in it.

“I’m assuming that Damon Salvatore has become mute?” Klaus asked, appearing extremely pleased. She did not know if it was because he just won a war or the fact that he just got laid. Either way, Klaus was having a very good night.

“Yes. It was not exactly pleasant.”

“Oh, don’t be that way Elijah. You enjoyed it.”

“Let us leave. I have work in the morning.” Elijah replied and Caroline smiled. She was ready to go home. Tonight, put an end to a very long nightmare and Caroline felt as though they finally could get on with their lives. In that moment, all she wanted to do was go home to her son.

“Yes. Let’s go home.” Caroline smiled widely pulling on Klaus’s hand. “I want to see our son.”