#part of me has wanted to beg for attention soooo bad but i fear i just cannot

[djarinova]

i did the interview btw and it was suuuuper weird but i feel more normal now :)

[inkandpen22]

Otherworldly Kings and Queens (10/10) Peter version

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Female!Reader/ Peter Pevensie x Female!Reader Warnings: emotional ending but happy! Word Count: 2.8k Part Summary: As the Pevensies time in Narnia comes to an end, Y/N must decide. There isn’t just one question that needs to be answered... who will Y/N pick? Will Y/N really consider staying in Narnia? A/N: And with that one of my first series comes to an end... it’s both exciting yet sad at the same time as I’ve had so much fun writing it. Thank you to everyone who’s followed the series! I appreciate you so much! SOOOO emotional! I never thought of writing both versions of the ending BUT I’m so glad I did so thank you to whoever suggested it!!! I envisioned Y/N picking Caspian, but this ending is gold :) 

Masterlist 

The whole Talmarine kingdom, as well as Narnians, have gathered in the courtyard for the ceremony. Aslan has made the decision to allow some Talmarines to leave Narnia if they choose. Apparently, Talmarines are like the Pevensies and myself I suppose, they're from our world. They traveled to Narnia centuries ago by accident and made a home here. Caspian speaks to his people with such ease as he encourages them to consider the offer. He's a natural-born leader. He's meant to be Narnia's future king. As I come to this conclusion, I take Peter's hand beside me. He glances down at me, having not expected the action. Nonetheless, he gives my hand a comforting squeeze and offers me a gentle smile of reassurance.

"Are you alright?" He questions in a whisper with a tad of worry resting on his brows.

"I just... when we got here I would've done anything to go back home. Now that the war is over and Miraz is gone, I've come to realize I'm quite fond of Narnia," I explain my predicament.

Peter chuckles lightly, pleased with the news considering how much he adores this place. "I always hoped you would. Whenever I told you about Narnia, I wished I could've shown it to you. I'm glad you came with us this time. Now you understand," he reasons.

General Glozelle and Miraz's wife, Prunaprismia, volunteer first with her baby. In honor of their bravery, Aslan blesses them with a good future. The pair walk toward the tree that Aslan has made part in half. Everyone watches in awe the General and former Queen disappear in a blink. My lips part in astonishment. I don't think I'll ever get used to magic. Gasps fall across the crowd and people begin to question Aslan's intentions. They fear this is all a trick.

Peter slips his hand from mine and steps forward. "We'll go," he volunteers us.

"We Edmund frowns, sharing my expression.

"Wait, what?" I express rather rashly.

In my defense, it's justified. Peter never asked for my opinion. He's deciding for me. Aslan... Aslan made it out to seem as though I had a choice, as though we all would have at least some more time here. "Come on. Our time's up," Peter tells me solemnly, but an ounce of hope lingers in his tone. "After all... we're not really needed here anymore," he determines while approaching Caspian to offer him his sword.

"I will look after it until you return," Caspian assures Peter confidently.

"I'm afraid that's just it," Susan interjects beside me. "We're not coming back."

"We're not?" Lucy pouts with concern.

"You two are," Peter predicts, glancing between Aslan and his youngest sister. "At least, I think he means you two."

"But why?" Lucy struggles to comprehend the purpose behind this news, as do I. "Did they do something wrong?"

"Quite the opposite, Dear One," Aslan voices. "Your brother and sister have learned what they can from this world. Now it's time for them to live on their own." Aslan comforts each of us with his wisdom.

Though, frankly, I'm finding it hard to swallow this harsh pill. But all things have their time.

"It's all right, Lu," Peter tries to ease Lucy's mind as he takes her hand gently. "It's not how I thought it would be...but it's all right."

Peter directs his attention to me and holds out his free hand for me to take. "One day you'll see, too. Come on."

He offers me a weak smile, not one that shows genuine happiness, but contentment. I ease my hand out to glide it into his, but something stops me. A feeling in my chest telling me not to settle as Peter as with his decision. I shift my head toward Aslan to ask the lion directly. "And what about me?"

My patience is growing thin. All this back-and-forth yet I haven't heard a concrete answer about where I belong. Aslan is constantly confusing me with his tricky wording. One minute he makes me believe that finding him wasn't my purpose for coming here and the next he's telling Peter that his time here is over. I belong where Peter is, I always have. If his purpose is in our world... then so is mine. Then, does that mean I'm like Edmund and Lucy? Am I destined to return in the future? How far in the future? Narnian time is different from ours, who knows how many years will pass before we're here again. It could be another thousand years in Narnian time. "Your course is not as clear-cut as theirs," Aslan states with uncertainty. "You still have much to learn from here, as do Edmund and Lucy. Going back means one day, you will return, as will they."

"So I am to go back," I hope to clarify.

All I want is an answer, to know my path.

"Returning to your world will bring you back here someday, yes, that is a course you may take," Aslan nods calmly.

So, after all this time, after all the back-and-forth, Aslan is guiding me toward Peter. He made it sound as though I had to make this life-altering decision. The first few days we were here, I would've given anything to go back home. I never wanted to be in Narnia. Now that I have my chance to get out and everyone is rushing me out the door, I'm digging my heels into the dirt begging for a moment's pause. All this time Aslan has been pressing me to make a decision, why do I feel as though he's making it for me? It's suffocating.

I glance between Aslan and Peter nervously. Aslan wears his usual gentle and patient smile while Peter is confused with furrowed brows. His hand remains out to me, lingering for mine to join it. I whip my head around and my eyes land on Caspian. His features fall as he comes to terms with my departure. I approach the future King solemnly. All I can keep thinking is 'more time! More time! If only we had more time!' I can't visualize who the 'we' is exactly. When I say it, all I can think of is the riverbank in the forest. I see myself lying beside the river in the plush green, flower-covered, grass. The warmth of the golden sun scatters over my skin. I spent time with both Peter and Caspian there. What I would give to return to those moments. Whether I'm hoping it's with Peter or Caspian, I can't see. Each of them matters to me, on what level I can't decide.

"I'm glad I came," I tell Caspian whole-heartedly.

"I wish we had more time together," the prince sighs, taking my hands in his.

His hands are warm. Mine are always cold. I never noticed that before now. I'll miss that.

"I'm not entirely sure I belong here," I confess timidly, still unsure of my thoughts and Aslan's advice.

"Why not?" Caspian frowns as if my words are nonsense.

"I’m not of this world and if the Pevensies are 1,300 years older than you so am I," I shrug with a hint of a smile as I comprehend how old I am. I'm not a Narnian or a monarch of Narnia. Aslan said I was meant to come here with the Pevensies, but our time is up and I've yet to find this purpose he speaks so much about.

Caspian expresses a faint smile, amused by my humor, but too solemn to fully be happy. Both of us pull the other into an embrace. The words continue to repeat in my mind. 'More time! More time! If only we had more time!' I feel as though I'm standing on the edge of the cliff overlooking a deep trench and I'm stuck wondering whether I should jump. Caspian and I part from one another. It's painful. I feel safe with him, more secure and understood than I ever have before. I don't want to let go, but at the same time, I'm yearning to cling to Peter.

Peter meets me halfway and wraps an arm around my waist, leading me toward the tree trunk. The Pevenesies begin toward the tree as well, ready to go on.

"It’ll be okay," Peter whispers in my ear as he brings me into his side.

I feel safe here with him. Peter is home for me. For years, he's been my rock, my strength. Through the war, losing my dad, through all the bad, Peter has been my guiding light.

He continues to comfort me. "Everything will be as if we-"

"Peter, no wait... " I shake my head as my steps come to a halt.

It takes a second for Peter to react. He comes to a halt a few steps ahead of me. Turning over his shoulder, he gives me a confused look.

"I can’t go back," I voice, but my volume is weak. "At least not yet... not until I know that I've done what I must do."

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"I... I think I’m still needed here..." I stammer with uncertainty. "At least... At least that’s what I think Aslan means. He speaks like a fortune teller and it’s confusing!"

Peter switches his now crossed expression from me to the lion. "Aslan, is that true?"

"Y/N’s future is not set in stone as your four’s is in history. She has known that she has to decide her course of action for some time. The clock is dwindling," Aslan explains steadily, looking to me to decide.

Lucy steps forward from behind Peter. "You mean you have to stay here?"

"It means I have a choice," I do my best to word it less harshly to the little one. "Staying here or coming again later. I’m assuming the next time will be with you and Edmund. Either way, I’m needed here. I just know it." I try to explain, but how do I explain a feeling?

"Neither choice is wrong," Aslan injects as he moves to stand beside Peter and me. "Going back to your world would mean you would return with Edmund and Lucy. After that, your life will be as you've always envisioned with who you envisioned. Staying here would be as you've envisioned as well," Aslan explains, giving me a knowing look. "You will prosper in both worlds, in whichever you decide."

Does Aslan know that I haven't been able to stop thinking about the riverbank? Is that what he's referring to? Does he mean that if I stay in Narnia I'll be with Caspian? If I return to England Peter and I will be together? Choosing a world also means choosing between Peter and Caspian.

"But why?" Lucy pouts.

"I don’t know," I struggle to say as my eyes begin to well up.

"I do," Peter voices.

"What?" I mutter.

"I didn’t understand it at first, but Aslan told me something earlier today. He said, ‘as much as we wish we could, sometimes we can’t choose who we love, the world chooses for us.’ You’re needed here. This is why you were brought here with us. When Caspian called for us with the horn, he unknowingly was calling to you as well."

I switch my gaze between Caspian and Peter frantically. Both of them meet my gaze with eagerness, wondering what I'll choose, as does everyone else.

"So I will return with Lucy and Edmund in the future if I go home?" I clarify with Aslan, hoping for a direct answer.

"Yes, if that's what you decide, Child," he nods.

I press my lips together as my throat becomes strained from holding back tears. "Peter I- "

"It’s okay," he assures me as his hand glides up to cup my cheek. "Everything is as it should be."

I can tell he's doing his best to stay strong for my sake. Tears flow from his eyes silently and the sight pierces my heart.

"If this is how it should be, why does it hurt so much?" I mutter, my tone shaky with emotion.

Peter shakes his head as his eyes become glossy. "It won’t forever. We’ll both grow and find that which we were destined to. I always thought we would find that together," he chuckles softly, it's bitter-sweet. "But this is right," he speaks with certainty.

"But I’ll never see you again," I comprehend the harsh reality of it all. "I... I don't want that! I can't imagine my life without you in it! You've always been there and I... haven't I lost enough people already? How many more goodbyes must I say?"

"We mustn’t think like that. One day we'll be together again!" Peter thinks optimistically.

This isn't fair. None of this is fair! In choosing Narnia, in choosing a different life for myself, I'm losing my best friend. I'm losing the one person who kept me going, who gave me a reason to survive.

"I love you," I cry.

Peter grins at my words, a faint and joyful chuckle escapes between his teeth. "And I’ve always loved you, perhaps I always will. We’ll never lose that, even across worlds."

I nod repeatedly, holding onto every syllable. I pray and hope, that he's right. Peter pulls me into his chest and I wrap my arms around him for dear life. I grip the fabric of his loose shirt in my fists. His hand cradles my head as he plants a kiss on my forehead.

Do the ones we love ever truly leave us? Is the memory of them strong enough to keep us going in their absence? I doubt a day will pass by where Peter doesn't cross my mind or any of the Pevensies for that matter.

Now that our time has officially run out, I say my goodbyes to each of the Pevensies. I'm not just saying goodbye to Peter's siblings, each of them has become family to me. Lucy and Susan cry with me as the three of us hug each other. Edmund does his best not to show emotion, but I can see behind his stone-hard expression that he's holding back. His tight embrace is enough evidence as well.

When the moment comes for the Pevensies to return to London, I hold onto Peter's hand as I approach the tree with them. His siblings walk a step ahead as Peter walks backward to face me. Until the last second, we hold on.

"Someday," I nod, as though I'm making a promise that one day we'll see each other again.

He nods, agreeing to the vow. "Someday."

Our hands begin to slip as Peter backs away toward the cliff between the tree halves and my breath hitches in my throat. I stare into his sea-glass eyes and the seconds travel rapidly by. In a blink, he's gone, disappeared from my world.

A gasp escapes my lips at the sight. My arm falls to my side as tears glide down my cheeks. My heart sinks as reality hits me that I'll never see Peter ever again as long as we're alive. An arm wraps around my waist, supporting me. Caspian appears in my peripheral vision as my eyes remain locked on the open space beneath the tree.

"It’ll be okay," he reassures me as he rubs his hand up and down my back.

I swallow hard, my face becomes blank other than the tears falling down my cheeks. A deep sense of emptiness consumes me inch by inch starting from my heart.

"As long as you've done what's right by your conscious and your heart, you could never be wrong, Dear One," Aslan advises smoothly.

I stare ahead at the tree, waiting for Peter to reappear though I know he'll never come. Have I done wrong? If this is what's meant to happen, why does it hurt so much? This is agony.

Caspian tries to usher me away, "come, Y/N, we can go back to-"

"No!" I blurt out suddenly, making him halt.

My eyes search the tree in a panic and then I turn to Caspian. "I'm sorry... I... I can't do this!"

The prince's features fall as he processes my words. "But..."

"I'm so sorry Caspian," I cry. "I love Narnia and I'm so glad that we've met but..." I glance over at the empty space where Peter last stood with a deep sigh. "I don't think I can be truly happy here if a piece of me is elsewhere."

Caspian swallows hard, clenching his jaw to withhold his emotions. "You love him," he determines.

Knowing that in choosing Peter I'm hurting Caspian is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Yet, it wasn't until Peter vanished from my sight did I come to realize that the answer to my million questions was right there in front of me this whole time. It's Peter, it's always been, Peter.

I lean up and plant a kiss on Caspian's lips, one last kiss. He deepens the kiss and it's a bitter-sweet farewell. When we part, he wraps his arms around me in an embrace. I wrap my arms around him tightly, holding onto the hope that Aslan is right and one day we may see each other again.

"One day," I mutter against his chest. "One day I hope we're reunited."

Caspian parts from me and expresses a weak smile as he brushes his hand against my cheek, wiping away the remaining tears. "I'll count the days until your return."

“I pray it’s soon,” I confess. “I fear I’ll miss you more than I can bare.” 

In choosing Peter, I lose Caspian. In choosing Caspian, I lose Peter. Neither choice is painless. 

I glance toward the lion, "so am I right about this?"

I can’t leave without being sure. 

"You were never wrong," he smiles.

I switch my gaze to Trumpkin, the crowd of Narnians, and Telemarines. All of them await my next move. Swiftly, I plant a kiss on Caspian's cheek, preparing to rush after the Pevensies. I turn toward the tree with a smile, knowing in my heart this is right. I turn my back to the tree and begin to back away from Caspian as Peter did to me. I hold onto the Prince's hand until the last moment. Our fingertips barely touching.

"Goodbye for now," I phrase lightheartedly with a soft grin.

"Farewell-"

Caspian's words are cut short as my vision changes from the courtyard to a chaotic train station. I'm standing in the middle of the platform as people move about me. The peace of the courtyard is replaced with deafening noise. I blink rapidly, piecing together what's happened. I glance down at my clothes and I'm in my school uniform again. My hair wisps around as a train flies through the station. I'm back, I'm back in London! Peter. I need to find him!

Frantically, I shift between people, rushing through the station to find the Pevensies. They have no idea I'm here. It'll be like a needle in a haystack with everyone dressed in the same uniforms. Perhaps they're where we left for Narnia, by the bench! As the idea pops into my mind, I begin to run. I scan each head, each face, all looking for one. Then, in a flash, I spot the blonde speckled hair I've been longing to see. Peter paces in front of the bench, his eyes on the floor and his hand rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks are red and his eyes bloodshot. His sisters and brother are huddled together by the bench, likely discussing their departure and my decision to stay. Little do they know...

"Peter!" I shout impulsively.

Peter whips his head around, searching the crowd for me. His glossy eyes are wide with surprise and his lips are parted. The other Pevensie children appear just as shocked. Then, he finds me. Amongst the crowd and chaos, his sea-glass eyes that I've been longing to see again since the moment he left have found me.

"Y/N?" He mouths breathlessly.

Peter begins to shove through the crowd, leaving his stunned siblings behind. I glide between bodies, excusing myself along the way. The seconds feel like hours as the distance dwindles but feels miles long. All I keep thinking is 'get to him! Get to him!' Before, I envisioned the riverbank. I longed for it. I couldn't see who was with me there in my visions until now, Peter. We were at peace, happy even. I believed the whole reason behind my want for those moments was to stay in Narnia. Yet, I've come to realize that it doesn't matter where I am, as long as it's with Peter.

In an instant, Peter's arms wrap around me and he frantically cradles my head, pressing it to his chest for dear life. He parts from me, cupping my face with astonishment.

He shouts, "what are you-"

Ignoring his words, I press my lips to his. Since the moment he disappeared all I wanted was to be with him again. At first, he's taken aback by my action, but after a second he comes to kiss me back. He cups my cheek and deepens the kiss. It’s salty, a mixture our of tears coming together. The world around us goes silent and nothing else matters. Despite everything, the war, the pain, the loss, this is where I'm meant to be. We part only to catch our breath.

"You came back?" He pants, lingering inches from my face. Now, tears of joy fall from his eyes. "But you're needed in Narnia! Aslan even said-"

"Destiny is a funny thing I've come to realize," I chuckle lightly with joy. "Everyone always speaks of it as though it must be an action or place. What if it's a person?"

The edge of his lips curl upward with pleasure, yet his brows scrunch together in confusion. "What happened to someday? You had the chance to be Queen! Grow old in Narnia! Caspian..."

"I was standing there, milliseconds after you left and I realized that none of it made any sense!" I explain breathlessly. "My world wouldn't be my world without you in it. Life wouldn't be worth living."

He gleams, overjoyed at my words. "So it's me?!"

"Oh silly boy, it's always been you," I giggle lightheartedly.

Peter releases a breathless laugh, emotional yet over the moon. He nods and swiftly brings his lips back to mine, holding my face in his hands longingly. No matter the world or time, I will follow him anywhere.

It's him. It's always been, Peter. Now, we have forever.

_____________________________________

Masterlist 

Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23​ @rangergranger11 @hyperactiveravenclaw @whiskeywinter89​ @i-hav-no-life​ @damalseer​

[hxlyhead-harpies]

The Last Dream of My Soul part 1. (R.L.)

hello everyone! This is the first part of the Remus Lupin series that i’m starting and i am soooo excited. i am still new at this so any feedback is appreciated!! i hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Young!Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: The very bookish (Y/n) has spent most of her life alone, aside from her best friends Lily and her beloved books. But when the infamous Marauders get thrust into her life, how could she resist the beautiful and unattainable Remus.

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 3.1k

The yellowing and rough pages of old books had always felt like home to you. The smell of the aging parchment and the worn and weathered covers had always offered you more comfort than any real person ever had. On a bad day, you’d be able to curl up in your bed, lulled to sleep by your favorite characters, and adventures more exciting than your own life. As the years pushed forward this was how your life was. You didn’t have many friends but that was okay because you had your books. Who needed a best friend when you could spend your afternoons in Narnia with the Pevensie siblings or tumble through rabbit holes with Alice? For the early years of your childhood, you were content with the reality that you wished you could be in any world than your own. Your boring, magicless, and unmysterious world.

But that all changed the year you turned eleven. You remember the day as if it were yesterday. You were laying on your bed, your legs tangled in the quilt your mother had made. A Nancy Drew book sat in front of you, the plot of which now escapes you but at this point, you had already solved the mystery yourself. It was a perfect summer afternoon. The sun was out and you could hear the other neighborhood kids shouting from outside your window. They never invited you out to play but you were okay with that; you had far more exciting things to read. You were turning a page, nearly halfway through the book, when you heard tapping from your window. Your head shot up- your reading induced trance was now broken- only to be met with the sight of a snowy owl. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. You had never seen that type of bird around here. And you had certainly never seen one clutching a letter between its talons. You carefully marked your page in your book and quickly hopped out of bed. You made your way to the window and attempted to open it, a task that proved difficult for your small eleven-year-old body. After a few moments of a struggle, you finally pried it open. The owl dropped the letter inside your room and flew off. You bent down to pick up the parchment from the floor to see that the letter was addressed to you, and was from someplace called Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

From that moment on your world had been flipped upsidedown, at least in the sense that everything now had to change. But to you, if anything, the world had finally been made right. Magic was real- and you had the pleasure of possessing it. It was like some part of you had always known that magic existed beyond the pages of your favorite books. It was as if everything finally made sense.

You dragged your family down the streets of Diagon Alley, absorbing every bit of magic culture that you could. You reveled in the lights and the feeling of warmth that coursed through your veins when you finally picked up the right wand at Ollivanders. You squealed with delight when your parents purchased you an owl and you nearly died of excitement when you realized that pictures plastered on posters in the alleys moved. And when you ran through the seemingly solid barrier at Kingscross station you thought you would pass out from the thrill. And when you got on the train you curled up by yourself in a compartment, hurriedly reading through your History of Magic textbook, attempting to soak up every bit of knowledge that you could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

During your first year at Hogwarts, you came to the slow realization that you might actually need friends. Now that you knew that magic was real you wanted to experience as much of it as you could, and it felt rather lonely to experience it all on your own. The characters in your books had always had sidekicks and best friends on their grand adventures, and being accepted into Hogwarts marked the beginning of yours. Now you just needed someone to share it with. Luckily, the pretty girl with brilliant green eyes and glowing red hair that shared your dorm had the same idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

By your fourth year, you and Lily Evans were attached at the hip. You spent nearly all your time together, inside and outside of class, and told each other absolutely everything. She knew everything about you, every detail and every secret, and you knew the same about her. Sure you had other friends, Marlene and Alice were nice and you hung around them quite often, but it was nothing like your relationship with Lily. She was the Elizabeth Bennet to your Charlotte Collins. Nobody understood you as she did, and you didn’t think you’d ever find anyone else who did.

But despite your closeness, you always felt a tinge of jealousy towards her. She was everything you weren’t: she was strong and outgoing, she felt no fear when talking to strangers, and it seemed that everyone instantly took a liking to her. Everyone loved her. She had flocks of friends, granted she wasn’t as close to any of them as she was to you, but it occasionally made you feel unimportant. It also seemed as if half of the year was in love with her. James Potter was evidence of that, constantly making a fool of himself to impress her. Lily always scoffed at him, not finding any of his antics even slightly attractive. And out loud you agreed with her that he was just a silly boy, but deep down you wished someone would give you at least a fraction of the attention that he gave her. But that was how it always went. Lily was the type of girl that boys would fall in love with. You, on the other hand, her quiet and shy sidekick, went largely unnoticed. But everything was fine. Because in moments when you felt lonely or inadequate you could turn to your books just as you did when you were young. Fingers tracing over the words of Mr. Darcy’s declaration of love or Romeo and Juliet’s final moments. And at the time, it was enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was your seventh year when things really started to change. After years of begging, Lily finally said yes to James. You were happy for her of course, she seemed to really like him. And he obviously really liked her. The way that James looked at her could only be described in the words of your favorite novels. But with her new relationship came uncharted territory: Lily now sat with him at most meals, though every few breakfasts she’d make a point to sit with you, and the spot you usually occupied next to her in the common room was now occupied by James. And the worst part was that you were now alone on Hogsmeade weekends, a time that was usually reserved for you and Lily to walk arm and arm around the small village. But despite all of this you couldn’t be mad at her. You saw how happy she was- and her happiness made you happy as well. But you couldn’t help but feel a tad jealous that she got to feel an emotion that you yearned to feel with your entire being. Love.

“(Y/n) come on!��� Lily exclaimed, throwing up her hands in exasperation. You groaned, looking up at her from the book in front of you. You were currently rereading A Tale of Two Cities, a favorite of yours that was littered with dogeared pages and underlined phrases. You made eye contact with your best friends, noticing the frustration in her eyes.

“Can you please just come eat breakfast with us?” she asked, rubbing her temple with her fingertips.

“Lils you know I want to eat breakfast with you but I don’t want to interrupt your time with James,” you replied, starting to look back down at your book.

“You’re not interrupting anything! All of his friends sit with us too!” she said desperately. When you didn’t respond to her exclamation she reached down and snatched the book from your hands.

“Lily!” you cried, sitting up and attempting to steal back your book.

“No (Y/n) I’m not giving this back until you come eat with me! I feel like I never see you anymore,” she said.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re always with James,” you responded while making another sad attempt to reclaim your novel. Lily’s face fell.

“Do you think I’m spending too much time with him? I swear I don’t mean to ignore you, I’ll stop eating meals with him and we can go to Hogsm-” she rambled, practically shoving the old book back into your hands.

“No Lily!” you shouted, cutting her off. “You’re not spending to much time with him! It seems like a perfectly acceptable time to spend around your boyfriend. I just miss you that’s all,” you said quietly. Lily’s face softened.

“Then come eat breakfast with me. I want you to get to know James better. You two are my favorite people I want you to get along,” she once again urged.

“Lily I’m not sure… I don’t really know anyone else there and you don’t have to worry I already like James plenty,” you replied.

“Just come, please! I promise that you’ll like his friends!” she practically begged. You sighed in defeat, finally giving in.

“Fine Lily,” you grumbled, standing up to gather your things.

“Yay!” Lily exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“But, I can only promise today. If his friends suck I won’t come back,” you exclaimed sternly. Lily nodded solemnly.

“Understood.”

The two of you made your way down to the Great Hall for breakfast as Lily attempted to give you a rundown on the group of boys that you were about to meet.

“Ok so obviously you know James, he plays quidditch and is studying to become an Auror. His best friend is Sirius who, I know, has a reputation but I swear he’s no that ba-”

“Lily I know who they all are! We’ve been in the same house for the last seven years,” you said, interrupting her with a laugh. Lily rolled her eyes at you.

“Yes I know you know them but you don’t know them,” Lily replied.

“Fine fine,” you said, throwing your hands up in surrender. “Continue.”

“Thank you,” Lily smiled. “As I was saying, Sirius is not as bad as everyone makes him out to seem. Yes, he hooks up with quite a few girls but he’s actually very funny and is secretly a sweetheart. Then there’s Peter, who I’ll admit is a little odd, but he’s harmless. And finally, there’s Remus. He honestly reminds me of you: he’s quiet and he reads a lot like you do. But he’s kind of a smartass sometimes so watch out for that,” she said, finished with her rundown. By this point, the two of you had reached the great hall. Breakfast was already in full swing and the room was swarming with students. Lily grabbed your arm and led you to a spot about midway down the table. She plopped down next to James, kissing him quickly on the cheek, causing Sirius to make a fake gagging face, before pulling you down to sit next to her.

“Boys,” she said, attempting to catch the attention of all four boys.

“This is (Y/n), my best mate in the entire world, so you all better be nice to her,” Lily stated matter-o-factly. You looked up to give a meek smile to all the boys. James greeted you warmly, Sirius gave you a small nod, Peter waved excitedly, and Remus didn’t even look up at you. You frowned for a moment before Sirius smacked Remus’s arm from his spot next to him.

“Hey Moony, pay attention we have a guest,” he said jokingly before shooting you a smile. Remus’s head shot up quickly, looking from Sirius to you, locking his eyes with yours. Once he seemingly realized what was happening he shot you a quick smile. You smiled back, attempting to hide the blush that the momentary eye contact had caused. You had always found Remus attractive, but you had never been so near him before. Something about the proximity made you jittery and made your palms sweat.

“Sorry about that,” he said, lifting a book from underneath the table. He flashed the cover of the book towards you. The title, Crime and Punishment, was sprawled across the worn cover. You felt your nose crinkle, reminded of how much you disliked the book. Remus’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What? Not a fan of Dostoevsky?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I guess the plot was interesting enough but oh my Godric was it dense,” you replied with a groan. You heard Remus chuckle from his spot across from you.

“Yeah, I suppose I can see where you’re coming from. I am enjoying it so far though,” he replied. You hummed in understanding before reaching for a piece of toast.

“Oh come on Lily,” Sirius said with a grin. “I can’t believe you would bring another nerd along. We already have Remus, we don’t need another one,” he continued. You felt your face heat up, ducking your head as you bit into the piece of toast. Lily narrowed her eyes at Sirius.

“Sirius I told you to be nice,” she said before throwing a piece of her roll at him. He laughed before throwing his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry (Y/n),” he apologized. You sent him a quick nod to let him know that it was okay, before pulling out your own book. As you stared down at the pages in front of you, you missed Remus perking up in interest.

“What are you reading?” he asked, setting his book down. You looked up quickly, showing him the cover.

“A Tale of Two Cities. It’s one of my favorites,” you answered shyly. You felt Lily shift beside you before speaking.

“She’s read that book probably a million times,” she said. You rolled your eyes.

“I wouldn’t say a million times, but yes I’ve read it quite a few times,” you replied before shifting your eyes back to Remus. He let out a soft laugh.

“I’ve never read it before. I’ll have to pick a copy up when we go to Hogsmeade. One of the shops sells muggle books,” he said with a small smile.

“You can borrow mine!” you said too quickly, causing yourself to blush. He looked at you, surprised.

“Oh, uh sure. I’ll borrow it when I’m done with this,” he replied, once again holding up Crime and Punishment. You heard Lily snicker from beside you.

“Good luck trying to read one of her books,” Lily said. “There’s so much writing in the margins it’s nearly impossible to get through.” You turned to her and smacked her lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey! It’s not that bad,” you said with a slight pout.

“I don’t mind,” Remus said, causing your eyes to turn back to him. “I’ll be interested in reading your thoughts as well as the book,” he said earnestly. You felt yourself smile involuntarily. You were about to reply when James stood up suddenly.

“Damnit we’re going to be late to potions,” he exclaimed. And with that, you all gathered your things and left.

Potions was generally a subject that you were good at. You often found yourself shooting your hand up during class to answer questions and Professor Slughorn had taken a liking to you. However, you found yourself unable to pay attention to the lesson. From your seat on the far side of the room, you had caught yourself staring at Remus. He was joking around with Peter, his potions partner, and had a wide smile spread across his face. He had scars running down his face, though they didn’t make him less attractive. In fact, they only seemed to add to the allure. His hair was messy and fell into his eyes. You felt yourself sigh when he ran his finger through his hair to get it out of his face.

“(Y/n)? Are you all right?” Lily asked, startling you. You nearly jumped from your seat, hand pressed to your chest.

“Merlin Lils! You scared me,” you replied. She squinted her eyes at you.

“(Y/n)? What’s going on with you?” she asked, scanning your face.

“Nothing!” you swore, stealing another quick glance at Remus. That was when the realization hit her. A teasing smile quickly spread it’s way across Lily’s face.

“Oh my goodness you fancy Remus don’t you?” she inquired, making your eyes widen and face flush. You pushed her shoulder lightly.

“Lily hush! And no I don’t!” you exclaimed as you glanced around the room to make sure that no one had heard her.

“Oh, you totally do! All that book talk this morning must’ve really got to you huh,” she said, waggling her eyebrows at you. You put your head in your hands and groaned.

“Shut up Lily!”

“Only when you admit it,” she responded.

“Fine! But you can’t tell anybody! Not even James,” you warned. Lily grinned from beside you.

“Oh, this is perfect! The two of you are perfect for each other!” she exclaimed.

“Lily! Just be quiet. It’s not like it’s ever going to happen,” you said. Lily looked at you, confusion was written all over her face.

“What do you mean it’s never going to happen?” she asked. You sighed, glancing at Remus once again. He was stirring the potion in front of him, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Lily why would he ever like me?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” she replied, clearly exasperated. You turned to her, giving her an incredulous look.

“We have seven years of evidence that boys don’t like me,” you respond. Lily rolled her eyes beside you.

“Well, this is different trust me,” Lily responded. You stare at her.

“How could this possibly be any different?”

“Because you could actually talk to Remus, get to know him He’ll obviously fancy you once he learns more about you.” Then it was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Lily, it’s never going to happen so just drop it,” you responded. You picked up the recipe for the potion that you were assigned to make that day.

“Now, can you please hand me the adder’s fork,” you said, listing off the first ingredient. Lily sighed.

“Fine. But we’ll be talking about this later.”

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 79

This was another chapter that was soooo fun to write.  Don’t worry, I’m not getting off the plot, swear.  So, thank you @charlylimph-blog for helping me flesh these pranks out. Also, thanks to @satan-parisienne and @baelpenrose for beta-reading.

Disclaimer: Food mentions below the cut.  I also want to clarify that I do not hate brussels sprouts.  I did, for several decades, though, and added that to one character in this chapter.

Given my track record with handling ship-wide issues in a personal capacity, I made a point to set up an actual appointment with both Grey and Xiomara to discuss our concerns.  Unfortunately, that meant it would be a few days before we all had time in our schedule.  All I could do in the meantime was try to do my actual job and pay more attention to odd behaviors of people around me.

I would like to submit for the record that I wasn’t succeeding with focusing on work terribly well.  And I wasn’t the only one.

“Seventeen,” Alistair greeted me as he arrived.  For what could only be dramatic emphasis, he removed a scarf and flung it over the back of the chair across from me.

“Ark’s temperature controlled,” I pointed out, staring at the scarf.  It actually looked soft.

“Seventeen different individuals,” he continued, ignoring my comment. “In a sum total of six groups, between three and eight people per group. Several were in more than one group.”

Wow. Go, Detective Worthington.  “This was just on your way from your quarters to my office?”

“From the cantina on deck fourteen, actually.” He stalked over to the food console, returning with a plate of food and two beverages.

“So, one, that’s an even shorter walk than the one from your quarters.”

He nodded around a forkful of pasta before swallowing. “Which makes it even more concerning.”

“True.” Taking the tea he offered me, I gestured at his penne.  Part of me was pleased to see it was one of my recipes from Before that I added to my profile once I learned how. “I thought you just ate?”

“I attempted to, certainly.  However, there have been several issues with the consoles in the cantinas.  I was given to believe they were resolved, but somehow I still ended up with brussels sprouts instead of capers.” He glared at me archly. “You are well aware of how I feel about those atrocities.”

“Even if you did like them, I can’t imagine substituting capers for brussels sprouts and still coming even remotely close to whatever you asked for.”

Already, he was standing to dispose of his empty dish. “I was sure that your console would be safe, but I selected a dish without capers, either way.”

“That’s fair.” Although I was mildly confused why he thought the console in my office would be ‘safe’ from the malfunction he just mentioned, but I also had no idea about the consoles in the cafeterias acting up, so he may have a point.

I was about to ask for details regarding the people he had seen.  I really was. However, I was preempted by the actual trumpet from the Book of Revelation started screaming from the speaker in the ceiling of my office.  

“BAYYYYY-BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE shark, do do do do do do!”

I screamed and jumped hard enough to fall out of my chair, while Alistair had flattened himself against the wall in an effort to escape the cacophony. Covering my ears, I begged Miys to disable the speaker.  I was reasonably certain I was yelling it, but either way the noise cut off abruptly and I was able to get up off the floor.

“What the bloody hell - bloody hell!” Alistair jumped abruptly at the figure that was now standing in my office. I wasn’t surprised, either, when I looked.

Standing right by my now-closed door was a shorter-statured figure, wobbling on its feet.  I couldn’t even really see the face, because my eyes would not look away from the top of their head. Specifically the earmuffs perched on there.

Five. Pairs. Of. Them. One pair was standard noise cancelling, but two were fuzzy - one neon green, another sparkly purple - and the other two, while not fuzzy, did have patterns in similarly bright colors: one set pink and green plaid, one fluorescent yellow and blue stripes.  Yet another pair was dangling around the figure’s neck, along with what appeared to be two pairs of earplugs.  I was getting the idea that the blaring music was something they were familiar with, against their will.

While puzzling at the noise-blocking hardware, I finally noticed the words across the figure’s hoodie.  It very clearly said ‘Fuck this shit’, framed by delicate vines and flowers. “Charly?” I asked, completely confused, before realizing she likely couldn’t hear me.  I gestured for her to remove the headphones, and once she did, I tried again. “Charly.  What is going on?”

“I have not had a hot bath in two weeks. Every time I walk through a door, the room plays that awful song until I leave the room, and cold spaghetti squash should be illegal! Very, VERY illegal!” As she spoke, her voice choked up more and more, and by the time she finished she was crying in my office.  Again. “I can barely eat, I can only sleep if I’m exhausted and practically pass out…” She trailed off.

I got her seated and rubbed her arms.  Turning to Alistair, I spoke softly.  “Can you please bring some of the stew from screen six in my file?  And probably water for now.”  To Charly, I reassured her. “It’s your beef stew recipe, the one you gave me.  For whatever reason, my console here and the one at home never glitched out when the ones in the cafeterias did.”

She sniffed and nodded.  My assistant quickly returned, gently setting down the stew and warm bread, along with some butter.  He narrowed his eyes at me, sharply. “I took the liberty of also getting some butter for the bread, because clearly some of us are heathens who serve warm bread without butter.”

“Some of us like to spread cheese sometimes,” I defended myself. “Okay, hon.  First, I need you to drink at least half of that water so you don’t dehydrate from crying.”  A very tiny white lie.  The real reason was an old trick I learned back Before - humans aren’t wired to be able to cry and swallow at the same time, so we stop crying if we are drinking something.  

Once that kicked in, I let her dig into the stew.  Keeping a careful eye to make sure she didn’t accidentally inhale anything in the literal sense while demonstrating the figurative sense, I tried to figure things out. “First and foremost, has anything else happened, anything that could have caused you injury?”

“Juss annoyig,” she told me around a bite of bread. Swallowing, she clarified. “Anytime I try to bathe, I only get cold showers.  No hot water, even the sonic function gives me cold water.  I’ve had to resort to letting a bucket of water sit out long enough to be room temp.  Anytime I try to get any sort of food or drink other than water, all I get is cold, icky spaghetti squash.  You saw what happens when I walk into a room.” She gestured at the speaker on the ceiling. “I’m not even sure how you stopped that.”

“I had Noah disable the speaker entirely,” I admitted. “So, all mid-range psychological torture? All irritants, nothing actually dangerous in and of itself?”

“Except the fact that I’m so jumpy I can’t sleep, I guess.  This is the first thing I’ve eaten in two weeks that wasn’t something Coffey had to go get from a canteen, bring it back, and give it to me.  And even that only works if it isn’t something I actually like.”

“But there are over a dozen full-time food vendors?” I was so confused.

She rolled her eyes. “You know I don’t trust other people’s cooking.  Yours, yes. Tyche’s, yes. Mine, of course.  But that’s it.”

“Miss Harper,” Alistair interrupted, gentle but horrified. “You said it’s been two weeks….”

She waved the concern away. “Two weeks of eating food I don’t like but don’t gag on is way better than cold, yucky spaghetti squash or food that may have… crawly things in it. You do know that some people cook with…. those things, right?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Objection withdrawn,” he sighed. “However, I do believe that part of what you are experiencing may be part of the wider issues we’ve been having with the food consoles.  All of the public ones have been malfunctioning recently, and every time they are reset, it happens again.  I nearly ate brussels sprouts today, for heaven’s sake!”

“Okay, seriously Alistair? They aren’t that bad. Stop being dramatic,” I scolded. When I turned back to Charly, she was staring at her lap, very focused on the hem of her sweatshirt.  Fear spiked through me like ice. “Charly? What is it? Did something else happen?”

“The consoles might be acting up because of what’s happening with me,” she admitted quietly.  “Not the other way around.”

Huh? “What do you mean?  You think the same person who is doing this to you is going to target everyone?” I could feel my panic levels rising.  Suspicious people, maybe a cult, were increasing in numbers throughout the ship.  Maybe they were sending a message? It was pretty well known that Charly was close with Tyche and myself - 

“IthinkthisishappeningbecauseofaprankIpulledandsomeonegotmad.” Once she finished blurting out her statement, she screwed her eyes closed and seemed to be waiting for something bad to happen.  When nothing happened - I don’t think Alistair even understood what she said, and I know I didn’t - she cracked one eye to peek at our faces.

“In English?” I asked, shaking my head.

“I think...I may have...broken? The food consoles? I might have played a prank? And someone didn’t like it?”

I fought the urge to go entirely limp as all the panic and dread I had been building up rapidly plummeted.  “So, all of this… you broke the ship… it’s all a prank war?”  She nodded, face scrunched up in embarrassed apology. I pinched my nose before running a hand down my face. “And you started it, you believe?”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” she cried.  “It was a harmless prank, I freaking swear. I programmed the food consoles to give boba tea as every one hundredth beverage dispensed. That’s it. I even made sure to program it to be sugar free! Just matcha tea, lactose-free milk, sugar substitute, and the little boba pearls.  At most, someone would get it, go ‘hey this isn’t what I asked for?’, try again, and get the right thing.”

“Except that’s not the worst thing that happened,” I prompted.

“No, it isn’t! After about…five days? Suddenly all thiiiiiiis,” she flailed expansively, “started happening!  There is no way you can tell me that I deserve all this for erroneous boba tea here and there.” Charly stared at me, pointedly.

To be honest, it really did seem like overkill. 

“Well,” I sighed. “The good news is, only a select few people have that level of access to the ship to do something so far reaching.” My fingers drummed on the table as I tried to think of ways to narrow our list of culprits further. “Obviously, they don’t mean you any actual harm, just a significant level of annoyance and inconvenience.  And it would have to be someone who would take boba tea to be a grievous insult apparently…” Fuck.  

My head snapped up as I leapt to my feet and bolted for the console. Once I had a boba tea, exactly the way Charly described, I took a huge pull from the straw. Chilled, clean flavor, no notable texture, not terribly sweet, no aftertaste…

And chewy boba pearls. Like little candies. Most importantly? They were squishy. 

“Mother fuck….”  Charly and Alistair both gave me questioning looks.  “I will one-hundred percent admit that your prank had very innocent intentions.  But before I tell you who did this, I want to be clear: absolutely no retribution, and no more dinking around in public resources. Deal?”  She nodded so hard I thought her neck may break.  “Someone with an enormous food aversion to anything ‘squishy’ ended up with one of your drinks.” I jiggled mine for emphasis. “And I am willing to bet they got a mouthful of tapioca before they realized it.  They absolutely knew there was no error - they only drink water, and they are extremely sensitive to caffeine.  Once they realized it was a deliberate error? There was no saving you, girl.”

Her eyes widened to the size of saucers, and I could see everything falling into place.  “Oh no. Nonononononono.  I didn’t think Derek used the public consoles!  I never would have done it if I knew that!  Or exempted him, or something… Oh gosh, I have to go apologize. I feel awful!”  With that, she bolted from the room, throwing a “thanks for the stew!” over her shoulder on the way out.

Alistair just shook his head. “She really pulled a prank on the one person we can’t keep out of anything on the ship, who we have to rely on his good intentions?”

“Obviously, not on purpose,” I pointed out.

“It still doesn’t explain the small cabbages that contaminated my lunch.”

Taking a long pull from my tea, I tilted my head side to side. “It really kind of does.  Charly hates capers with a passion, based solely on what they look like.”

“Madam Councillor. Brussles. Sprouts. Surely there was a better option.”

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[deathfrisbeeinthetardis]

I walk through the valley of the shadow of death

Summary

When Detective Shane Madej got the briefing, his blood ran cold. He needed to tell Goldsworth, he owed the man that much.

Notes:

So the original idea came from me wanting to read/write angry Shane because of the 'Goddamn it' he says in the Pennhurst Asylum Post mortem at 11:08, but with more you know, genuine anger. Then the whole situation came to me after reading Waiting for the Sunlight by @ebonybow (which is amazing btw, if you read my stuff you've got to check out theirs, it's about a million times better)

This fic is absolutely self-indulgence so that I don't have to write another chapter for, um, other stories that I have started, soooo, I hope ya'll like this!

Read below or find it on Ao3!

The tall man was let into Ricky's office half a minute after he approached the basement hatch concealing the entrance to Goldsworth's empire. His composure was veiled for those outside the door, but his shoulders were so stiff from the tension that he almost shook with it. Pushing back his rain-soaked hood, he scanned the simply furnished room to find the boss lounging in the armchair, a book in his hands and dressed in black as per usual.

           'Mr. Goldsworth," he said. It never hurt to start formal, they always manage to work back to their own peculiar brand of familiarity with a bit of time.

           "Detective Madej, a bit on edge, are we?" The smaller man gives him a sly smile that wasn't entirely devoid of warmth, eyes flicking up from the heavy tome to look him over. It had been a while since they last spoke face to face, out of the necessity of course. There have been… complications.

           "They know," Shane said tightly and feels a sort of grim satisfaction as Goldsworth sits up in the armchair, eyes widening slightly at the news. It was why he had rushed from the office as soon as he could sneak out of the meeting without drawing attention. If the situation wasn't dealt with, the consequences could doom them all.

           "How much do they think they have?" He sounded so damn calm.

           "They have your name, your real name, Goldsworth." Shane bit out, "You're a smart man, you know where they will go looking next."

           Goldsworth scoffed, standing in a fluid motion to walk over to the plain wooden desk, laying a hand on a faint raised line on the surface. To an outside eye, it would be just a casual stance, but Shane knew of the thin sharp dagger concealed in the unassuming wood, Goldsworth could have the blade at Shane's throat in a second, but the taller man didn't back down, gaze fixed on the downturned face of the boss.

           "And where, might I ask, did they find out that piece of information? Not many know it." Goldsworth was looking at him now, eyes sharp and piercing. Shane only met his stare with one equal in intensity.

           "It's not important. We--" he cut himself off when Goldworth's eyes glinted dangerously. Now isn't the time to argue about what they had between them, the safety of Goldsworth's people took priority. "You need to take measures to protect them, get them out of town, hell, out of the country even, with how much of the force is being put to track them down."

           "Who leads the mission."

           'I can't tell you that." Shane swallowed, determined not to look at Goldsworth's hand on the desk. He needed the man to listen to him and exhibiting fear or anxiety is not what the situation needs.

           "It's Ilnyckyj isn't it?" Shane's face must have shown enough to confirm his guess, as much as he tried to maintain his mask, and Goldsworth laughed dryly, eyes sharp under the dim light of the room, "Of course it is, only using the best to hunt the worst eh?"

           "Don't." Shane's voice was low, a little more control slipping away and a little desperation sneaking in as he walked the two strides it took to stand opposite Goldsworth at the desk. "Andrew is a good man, he's only following orders. He doesn't deserve that."

           "And my family does? You know full well what measures they take to hunt down people like me, you've led them." There was venom in every word, raining down onto Shane's battered conscience like knives. How much of what he has done in the name of the King can he really brush off with the excuse of just following orders? He didn't know anymore.

           Shane pressed his hands on the desk with as much force as he dared, not for what Ryan might do, but for fear that the walls may be listening. "God damn it, Ryan." He hissed, dropping the name down to a whisper, and Goldsworth flinched as if Shane had struck him. "This goes beyond you and me, it's not a game anymore between you and the crown. They will do anything to find you."

           "And are you going to help them?" Goldsworth's voice was steady, but there was unease in his eyes. It had taken a chance encounter, half a dozen clashes and months and months before he had dared to risk trusting a man in the crown's employ, and Shane knew the danger the situation put both of them in, knew it in the twisting knife in his heart where Sara had been.

           "I would never--how could you think that?" Disbelief coated his words, but was he really surprised? Like the man said moments ago, there were only that many people who had been given the privilege of knowing who the infamous Ricky Goldsworth really was, each tested and challenged to hell and back before they earned the boss’s trust. It was easier to suspect him than to think that any of them would betray him, Shane was right here.

But the hurt lingered just the same.

"I know how to hold my tongue too, Goldsworth." He had had to learn how.

           The hand Goldsworth had on the desk was showing white on the scarred knuckles where he had drawn out the slim blade, and fuck it, this was the last time they would likely see each other ever again, so Shane reached out and grasped Goldsworth's hand with his own. He felt the tendons jump beneath his fingers as if the man had almost flinched but contained himself at the last second.

           This sort of contact was new, sure they have done a good deal more, but that had been through the touch of fists and blades against the vulnerable parts of the body, never comforting, never casual. But the man didn't pull away, just looking down at where their hands rested on top of the desk, the tip of the blade tucked to the bare inside of Shane's wrist.

           "You need to get out too, Ryan. Please." His eyes grew damp, and it had nothing to do with the blooming pain where the sharp steel had cut into his skin. All the panic and fear after he heard his captain speak at the briefing condensing to hit him all at once, taking away his breath, and his voice shook with the effort it took to remain presentable, barely over a whisper.

           "I can't lose you too."

           There was silence, such horrible heavy silence in the room as Shane waited for a reaction, words, an explosion, a knife in his throat, anything. But the man opposite him just stood frozen in place, staring at the growing puddle of blood on the dark surface of the desk. Uncertainty was showing through on his face for the first time in the years they had known each other, worked together, saved each other's asses more than a few times. The reveal of just that bit of humanity incited a pointless hope and in Shane's heart, but he wasn't the one that mattered here.

           He would have gotten down on his knees to beg then, to beg that Ryan leave his honorable struggle, take his family and get the hell away from the poisonous reign of the king. The man had enough support and power to form his own damn kingdom. It wouldn't have been difficult, since Shane didn't have much pride left to lose, and if it meant Ryan would survive, he would gladly suffer the necessary blows to his fucking dignity.

           "Okay." The quiet word shocked Shane from his thoughts, and it took a moment before his mind registered what the man had just said, and his shock must have shown on his face, too fierce of an emotion to hide beneath the mask he wore every single second he was on duty for the king.

           "Okay," Ryan said again, finally raising his eyes to look at the taller man. His grip loosened on the knife and he twisted his hand until strong calloused fingers gripped Shane's wrist, putting pressure over the bleeding wound. "I'll go, but come with me. You can get out too."

           Now it was Shane's turn to still, the ever-present ache in his chest sharpening in a split second, the wound that never closed. "I-I can't." Tears spilled down his face to mix with the rain that had not yet dried, his words barely getting past the tightness in his throat. "Sara-"

           "Madej." Goldsworth cut him off, fingers digging into his wrist and sending a jolt of pain up Shane's arm, bringing him back to the here and now with the command in his voice. The man's eyes softened as he looked at Shane, and the taller man felt dread take hold in his mind before the man spoke.

“My men found the ashes two days ago, the seer says it's her.” A pause, “She’s gone, Shane.”

           Shane reeled, floundered, tears running dry. Sara was gone. The woman he had planned to spend his life with, then taken away by guards, the knowledge of her life within the capitol a constant harrowing on his soul. Was death really that bad, compared to being held as the counterweight for his obedience? Shane should be happy that she finally didn’t need to suffer because of him. He had done enough damage to this world.

           Distantly, he felt Goldsworth’s hand on the back of his neck, pulling him forward until their foreheads touched gently, the touch all there was to tether him to reality, he could feel the man’s breath on his face when he spoke.

           “She would have wanted you to get out. You’re a good man, you don’t deserve this.” The words shot through the grief clouding Shane’s brain, and he managed to focus on Goldsworth’s mouth, reading the words as they were uttered.

           “I’m going to need you to be brave,” Ryan said, giving Shane’s neck a light squeeze until the taller man was nodding slightly, though how much of that was a conscious decision than tremors he did not know. He tried to speak, and it took a few attempts for the broken syllables to spill out.

           “Okay.”