#poor elf lady just came by to drop her soon

[madamebaggio]

Notes: Previously...

***

Chapter 12

Minas Tirith

Margaery lowered the latest letter Sansa had sent her and thought about it.

“Are you going to talk to Queen Lucy?” Loras wanted to know.

“Sansa suggested it.” Margaery admitted, her voice thoughtful. “Apparently she is now friends with the other Queen of Narnia.”

Loras smirked. “Are you jealous?”

Margaery rolled her eyes. “I am not that kind of woman.”

Loras scoffed. “Maybe we should…” Noises coming from the hallway cut his sentence, making him frown. “Stay here.” He asked his sister, hand going to his sword as he marched to the door.

Margaery waited as her brother went out of her room. She wasn’t concerned -yet -as these didn’t seem like noises of alarm.

“More Narnians arrived.” Loras informed her once he came back.

Margaery frowned. “Then why the commotion?”

“Apparently they saw Lord Boromir somewhere, and you know how Lord Denethor feels about his precious son.”

The lady hummed. She was almost sure Denethor would tell her all about it later, so she didn’t need to hurry out of the room.

However, it was likely that Queen Lucy would be a bit distracted. She’d talk to her later.

***

“I demand to know about my son’s destination!”

“I do not know where Lord Boromir was headed to.” Asterius said, not for the first time. “We met them by the Anduin and then parted ways.”

“You should have an inkling of his direction.” Denethor insisted. “Of his condition…”

“Lord Boromir seemed fine.” Asterius reported. “We did not speak for long. He gave me directions and asked me to let his family know he was alright.”

“I do not believe my son would conceal from me his destination.” Denethor pressed.

“I cannot give information I do not have, my lord.” The minotaur threw back.

“Lord Denethor, this is quite enough.” Queen Lucy stepped in front of Asterius. It did nothing to actually cover him -considering his size -but it was the gesture that counted. “Asterius brought you news of your son, and you are treating him as a criminal. I understand your concern over your son, but Asterius has nothing to gain by hiding information from you.”

The Regent sunk deeper into his chair and sighed. “Who was he with?”

“A dwarf by the name of Gimli, an elf called Legolas, a man. Aragorn was his name.”

That made Denethor straighten his chair. “Aragorn? The ranger?”

“I do not know if he was a ranger.” Asterius admitted. “Just that he was called Aragorn, and he seemed close to Master Boromir.”

Denethor mumbled something to himself, but the Narnians were soon free from the room.

“This man…” Lucy grumbled.

“He does love that son.” Edmund winced. “Poor Faramir.”

Lucy looked at Asterius. “Was he really fine?”

“I think we should have that conversation in private, my lady.”

Lucy and Edmund exchanged looks, but led Asterius to a place where they could talk. The minotaur explained to them in detail what Queen Susan had decided, how she’d given him the drop of the cordial and told him to use it at the right moment. He told them about the group’s difficulty to move out of Rohan and how they found Lord Boromir by accident.

“It was no accident.” Edmund sighed. “Susan was right and it was meant to be.”

“It was timely, that is for certain.” Asterius agreed. “They left to chase after their friends.”

Edmund nodded. “Did they ask anything?”

“They wanted to know why we were there. And also… If we knew anything about the people from Westeros.”

Edmund hummed. “Did Lord Boromir mention he met Lady Tyrell on the road?”

Asterius shook his head and Lucy scoffed softly. “I do not think it was an accident.”

“You are very convinced of this woman’s wicked powers.” Edmund observed.

She took a deep breath in. “I am sorry. There is just something about her…”

“I do not know anything about Lady Tyrell and Lord Boromir never mentioned a previous acquaintance.” Asterius spoke up, distracting the siblings from the previous topic. “However, I wish to talk to Lord Faramir. His brother asked me to talk to him. Had I known his father was…”

“That is a whole other thing.” Edmund nodded in understanding.

“Let us look for Lord Faramir.”

***

“I feel like he is lying to me.” Denethor grumbled.

Margaery held in a sigh. “Lord Denethor.” She called softly. “Lord Boromir is a smart man. Why would he tell a stranger his destination?” She indicated. “Especially a stranger that hails from another land.”

Denethor scoffed.

Margaery had been thinking a lot about what Sansa had written in her letter. The son of the King of Rohan was dead, and the man himself was not well. His heir had been banished from the land, and she was going to try and find him.

Margaery wasn’t a strategist - not when it came to war - but perhaps the whispers they were hearing really meant something darker was coming.

Denethor himself was convinced the days of Gondor were numbered, but she could hardly tell if it was paranoia or something else.

She couldn’t tell if open war was really that close or not.

However, it would take days for a letter to arrive in King’s Landing and even longer for an army. If things were as urgent as some seemed to think they were, it might not be enough time.

But dragons could fly there faster.

Margaery covered Lord Denethor’s hand with hers. “My lord. What if I write to my Queen and kindly ask her to come with her dragons?”

***

Lucy watched as Lord Faramir talked to Asterius, clearly pleased to hear from his brother.

She hadn’t met Lord Boromir, but it turned her stomach to hear Lord Denethor talking of his eldest son as if he was the only one. He seemed to think Faramir was weak willed, not as brave or as strong as his brother. He also made no secret of that.

It made Lucy’s heart squeeze painfully. Faramir was a kind and caring man, and she didn’t believe for a minute that the Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien wasn’t a brave man, willing to fight for his country.

The man in question had finished his conversation with Asterius and walked up to her, a smile on his lips. “Your Majesty.” He bowed her head.

“Lord Faramir.” She smiled back. “I hope Asterius’ words gave you confort.”

“More than I dared to hope.” He admitted. “I am glad to hear that my brother if fine.”

“Are you two close?” She asked, interested.

“We are. Boromir has been nothing but a great example and inspiration to me.”

“I see.”

Faramir made a gesture to indicate she should start walking, then took his place next to her. “He is a great man.”

“But so are you.” She told him.

Faramir’s laughter was a bit strained, even as he blushed. “You are too kind, my lady.”

“I only speak the truth, Lord Faramir.”

He cleared his throat. “We hardly know each other.”

“That is so.” She agreed. “However, I tend to have a good eye for these things.”

Faramir’s smile this time was soft, his eyes gentle. Lucy felt a tug on her heart.

***

“Hum.”

“My King?” Asterius asked, turning to Edmund.

“Hum.”

The minotaur frowned. “Is something wrong?”

Edmund’s eyes were fixed on his sister and Lord Faramir. “Not really. I just have a… Feeling.”

[realityhelixcreates]

By Talos, This can't be Happening, pt 10: Applewatch

Our pair leaves Bruma, and wanders west.

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions @whocares-idont @juspeczyk

?~?~?~?~?

“This is ridiculous!” Helix snarled. She was seated on a bench next to Swag, in what served as the prison interrogation area, surrounded by heavily armed and armored guards. They'd been dragged in as soon as the old womans house had been checked, revealing an unfortunately freshly dead man. The poor lady had been so distraught she hadn't even been coherent; currently, everyone was waiting on her to calm down enough to describe what she'd seen.

“Stay seated.” a guard commanded.

There had been a discussion, upon bringing them in, as to whether Helixs' hands should be fully bound so she couldn't cast. She had not been amused at all, and was still riled.

“Literally just passing by!” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Completely clean! Not a speck on clothes or weapons! No evidence whatsoever!”

“And you are a mage.” Another guard countered. She growled in frustration, an angry sound Swag rarely heard from her.

“We told you about the other guy.” he said, irritated.

“You've been here less than a week, and already you have brought a dangerous monster right up to the city gates, been imprisoned for disorderly conduct, investigated for theft of imperial goods, and involved in two other deaths!” the head guard, one Carius Runellius, exclaimed. “I'm getting tired of looking at you!”

“Tangentially.” Swag clicked out each syllable like a bullet in its chamber. “And we could get outta your sight real fast, if you weren't holding us for no reason.”

“Sir.” One of the interrogators poked his head in from an adjacent room. “Erline has calmed down a bit. She says it was Raynil Dralas in her house, not these two.”

“The vampire hunter?” Carius scoffed.

“Vampires?” Swag asked. He glanced over at Helix. “Vampires???”

Her tightly pressed lips and deep breath in and out through the nose were answer enough.

Vampires. There were vampires too. This world sucked.

Pun fucking intended.

The old woman, Erline, tried to shove into the room.

“Yes, it was Dralas, not these young people! I saw him! Standing there, with his bloody sword!”

She dropped her face into her hands.

“It's terrible! Oh, it's terrible! But it wasn't them, it was that elf!”

“Dralas...does that mean...Bradon was a vampire?” Carius mused.

“What?” Erline exclaimed. “Of course not! How could you even say that?”

“Now that I think of it...He never came out during the day, did he?” a second guard mentioned.

“He was a street cleaner!” the old woman shot back. “Of course he worked at night! Have you all gone mad?”

“Keep calm, ma'am.” the interrogator said.

“But he wasn't a vampire! That's crazy! You all knew him!” she cried, as the interrogator led her away.

Carius let out a sound between a sigh and a groan.

“Worst week since my promotion.” he griped.

“Are we free to go?” Helix asked.

“Yes.” he said, exasperation deep in his voice, then he leaned in close to Swag. “Bit of advice. Get out of here before you are implicated in anything else.”

So there was the ultimatum. Fine.

“Yeah, I hear ya.” Swag murmured back. He stood and offered Helix his hand. “Ready to go, babe?”

“Beyond.” she said harshly, taking the proffered hand, and swanning through the gathered guardsmen like a miffed princess.

“We got enough supplies to skip town?” he asked.

“Are we being run out?”

“Straight up.”

“Then yes.”

They left the city behind right then and there, heading west. Swag's gaze on a swivel in search of enemies.

“So, you've gotta visit every city in this whole country?” he asked.

“Every city that has a guild, yeah. Not all of them do, but there's like...eight? I think? Big ones, if I read the map in the Bruma guild right. Already got that recommendation, and I know at least she'll be punctual about sending my name in. She wants her name to be seen by the archmage as much as possible, so any reason to send him something, she's gonna take.”

“Blacksmith back there suggested I go to a town called Chorrol for some armor. Is that one of them?”

“Yeah, it's further west. If we follow this road, we'll eventually get there. When we do, we should probably get ourselves an actual map.”

“And maybe another weapon.” he suggested. “We've only got my dagger, and you could probably use that hatchet if you had to, but maybe...” He stopped in the road, squinting into the forest. “I mean, there's a whole lotta trees out there. There's gotta be a stick or something I can swing. I still know how.”

“We'll keep an eye out.”

The road was sparsely populated, but not empty; occasional travelers, pairs and trios wandered by on their way to Bruma, carts and horses. Helix left the road to avoid these, her childhood fear of horses, and his inability to ride one effectively cutting off that mode of travel.

Though Helix had sold or traded most of her plants, she was right back to collecting them, clipping bundles of lavender, spiky thistle heads, assorted fungus-with the gloves he'd taken from the waystation she was able to gather a wider variety-and spikes of silvery mugwort.

Soon she would be festooned with them once again, like a walking shrubbery, and he had to tug her back onto the road before she traipsed off further into the forest several times. It was like her own personal compulsion.

Early evening brought them across a quiet farmstead, disturbingly empty. A small, prominent graveyard stood out front. Though Swag could just guess where the occupants had gone, the garden still stood, wilting without care, and a few stringy-looking chickens scurried about. The farmhouse looked like it had simply been abandoned, everything tidy, and only a little dusty.

“Sooo, this is creepy, right? I'm not the only one who thinks this is creepy.” he asked.

“It is, but...it's also not as uncommon as you might think. These hardscrabble farmsteads were pretty common all across the landscape back home. Sometimes, some catastrophe destroys a family, or their ability to keep up the farm, and it leaves an open space. A few weeks, months, someone else will move in and try again. It's part of the lifestyle.”

“We aren't staying. We're staying?”

“There is no one here. The farm isn't being cared for, you can tell from the state of the plants. The family wasn't killed by animals or monsters, or there wouldn't have been anything to bury, and likely not by bandits either, or they wouldn't have been buried at all. We'll stay for the night, and move on in the morning. Not long enough to piss off any lingering spirits.”

“Did you really have to mention that last part?”

“Don't worry about it. Will you harvest those potatoes? I'm going to take care of something else.”

“Sure. Uh...which ones are the potatoes?”

She looked about to say something sarcastic, but he just shrugged, hands up.

“Gotham City, New Jersey. My whole life.”

She nodded, then stalked into the yard.

“Check it out.” she said, grabbing a wicked looking trident implement. Pointing out exactly which plants she was talking about, she thrust the tines of the giant fork into the soil at the base of one of the plants, and lifted a whole bundle of little potatoes out of the dirt.

“Well goddamn. So that's how it works. Okay yeah, I can do that. You want me to do all'a these?”

“Please. Anything we don't use tonight can come with us.” she pointed to another row of plants. “Radishes. If you want them, grab the leaf bundle at the base and pull real hard. And I want at least one of those cabbages. Grab in both hands and twist like you're ripping someone's head off.”

“Damn, farming is brutal.”

“You're not wrong. Well's right over there; make sure everything gets nice and clean.”

She disappeared around the house while he stabbed at the ground with the garden fork. It was hard work, but of course it was, it was fucking farming. Looking at his big pile of potatoes, long white radishes, and pretty green cabbage made him inordinately proud though. Salt of the earth, he was. A survivor. Accomplished. T'aint much, but it's honest work.

Helix returned back from around the farmhouse, three plucked and cleaned chickens dangling from her hand.

His stomach wobbled. Okay nevermind. His country girl was always gonna be a little tougher. Looked like the hatchet had already come in handy.

Two of the chickens were hung over a low, smokey fire, in a tent-like structure, and the third went into the cooking pot inside the farmhouse, along with some potatoes, cabbage, and a few other things Helix found in the pantry.

She began making a new batch of bread, one that wouldn't be ruined by a leaking bottle, and Swag picked over the small collection of books he'd discovered near the fireplace. Most of them had evocative, pulp novel names, like; The Death Blow of Abernanit, The Horrors of Castle Xyr, and The Lusty Argonian Maid. But Azura and the Box caught his attention.

He pulled the book and snagged a chair. Helix stayed near the fire as well, clipping and cleaning her nails. She kept hers short since she did so much with her hands, though she usually also kept them painted. She'd been flaking the lacquer off as they walked however, and now her nails and lips were bare, and he could see the naked color beneath.

She was, like him, an artificially colorful creature, and yet, without it all, the firelight still painted her with hues unseen by any other than himself. In the flickering light, the slates of her eyes became nearly black, the light scattering off white hairs stood out against the chocolate brown like shining silver filaments. The rose of her skin bloomed into gold and amber, and it was challenging to concentrate on the storyline of the book, apparently told from a Dwemer's point of view.

Markarth, the Dwemer city. What did that mean? He'd probably better learn.

“What's going to happen to the club?” Helix asked abruptly.

“Hm? Oh, don't worry, it'll be fine. There's contingencies. There was always the possibility that I'd drop off the map sometime, so I automated a lot of things. The second night I didn't enter the right code, an email will have been sent out to all the employees, and Nina and Deirdre too. They'll take care of things. Might launch an investigation too, not that it'll get them anywhere in this case. Um...what about Maddy?”

Helix's daughter was an amazingly self-sufficient kid, but even she would have limits. Swag liked her well enough, though she wasn't his, and had never tried to be. She knew who her father was, even if no one else did, and she didn't need any others.

“With her father. That's part of what we agreed on. Three days gone, she lets Narci know, and she goes to him. Her father and I set it up, so he'll know something has happened. But he also knows Narci will take care of the home, so he's unlikely to show up. She might go visit some of her 'big brothers' and 'uncles' too. Word of our disappearance has probably already traveled. Is U.S. gonna be okay?”

Swag snorted.

“No. He's probably glued himself to the girls, terrified he'll be next to disappear. It's all right, they can handle him. They always could. He'll be fine eventually.”

“Everything back home is gonna be okay.”

“Yup.”

They had to believe it. They had to believe that everyone involved would do what they were supposed to; that Narci wouldn't panic, that Madeline-reaching her preteen years-wouldn't rebel, that Unswag wouldn't regress. They had to trust in the systems they put into place, legacies they had set up for when they were gone.

They had to believe, as they lived out this domestic scene in a dead families house, that their own homes weren't burning down.

The chicken soup was delicious, filled with spices and Helix's mysterious plants, and the book contained an interesting idea. While it was dangerous and inadvisable to do so, the gods could be fooled. That was something to tuck away for later.

Since there was fire, and a well, and the proper basins for it, they washed their clothes again, and Swag took some time to take care of their leather items. Years of Italian shoes and quality gloves had taught him the ins and outs, though Helix's gifted girdle was very dry and cracked, which was probably why it had been left behind in the first place. It would need to be replaced eventually. In Chorrol, they could sell the parts of their treasure that wasn't already money, and take care of their less immediate needs.

He could scrub himself with soap now! Wash his hair! Collapse into the bed-finally a real bed-smelling softly of olive oil and bay leaves, press his face against her skin, also scented with sweet laurel. Wallow in these small comforts.

Helix wound around him, soft and warm, nibbled at his throat, and he shivered. He really wanted to follow this course of action, but...

This was a dead persons bed.

He wasn't superstitious. None of his 'kind' were. They knew the undead existed. They'd seen them. They were them. Helix had adopted one, in order to keep them all safe. Haunting was a clear and present possibility.

Also, it just seemed kinda...rude.

Instead, he cuddled close, rubbing his fingers into her scalp until she relaxed into his embrace and dozed off.

?~?~?~?~?

[squidbulborb]

Ainz takes Aura and Mare to school in the next Overlord volume!

(My predictions for the future events in the Overlord series)

[waithyuck]

TRICKY

pairing: elf! na jaemin x reader (f) **halloweenie special**

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 3k

warnings: {OKAY IM PUTTING A WARNING FOR VERY MILD *DUB-CON* BC TECHNICALLY THE READER IS TRICKED , BUT IN THE END OBVIOUSLY CONSENTS, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED}, sexual content (fingering, dry humping), explicit language, use of several pet names, possessive behavior and vocabulary, reader just wants to find her damn cat but gets a whole lot more than that, bad attempts at explaining folklore, I’m sorry for any inaccuracies 😬 **ALSO UNEDITED**

a/n: **repost bc tumblr sucks** this is definitely more of my own spin on what I think an elf would be like, so sorry to those of you who are into the lore and stuff 🥺

< previous | next >

~10/14/2020~

~~~~

your grandmother was always a very smart woman, and you knew that very well. so when she told you not to do something, you made sure to NEVER do it.

you lived with her on the very outskirts of your town; your own backyard made up of a very dense forest with enough trees in it to block out almost all sunlight. your bedroom window faced the forest, and every night you were forced to stare at it as you sat at your desk, contemplating what went on in there.

your grandmother repeatedly told you to never go in there, no matter what, ever since you were a child. she would talk about all kinds of crazy things, like witches and faeries, and even elves.

the first time she told you about the dark forest, you were only six years old.

“you can’t go in there, y/n.” she said seriously, crouching before you as you stood in the kitchen with her. “no matter how much it may call you, you can never enter it.”

you didn’t understand, so of course, in typical child fashion, you questioned her.

“well why not?” you shot back, crossing your arms and pouting. she stood back up after looking at you for a second, going back to mixing brownie batter in a large bowl.

“the fae are dangerous creatures. the forest is littered with them, my dear.” she stopped for a moment, gazing out the kitchen window and into the thick gathering of trees and plant life. “the elves will claim you once you enter, and you may never be able to escape again.”

after that, she didn’t say much else to you about it.

at first, you thought she was just trying to scare you into not wandering off, but after a while you began to believe her.

there would be strange noises in the night; like whispers calling out to you from the direction of your window. it creeped you out but you tried to convince yourself it was just your imagination playing tricks on you.

your life continued on like that for years, and eventually it didn’t phase you at all. you were used to the nightly whispers now, and even your cat didn’t seem to mind them, if she could hear them at all.

you never told your grandmother about them, however. she was getting old and you didn’t want to be the reason she had a heart attack, as awful as that sounded.

for being as old as she was, she still got around pretty good, and there were days when she left you along for a good few hours to go out on walks with her other old lady friends.

it was really cute.

today was just like any other day like that; your grandmother left around eleven in the morning to go out, leaving you some breakfast on the counter for when you inevitably stumbled out of your room at one o’clock in the afternoon.

everything seemed normal. you ate in silence and scrolled through your phone at the kitchen table, but then noticed something was right.

looking around you, you noticed your cat was nowhere in sight. she would usually be up on the table sitting and staring at you or rubbing against your leg for no reason, but currently she was nowhere to be found.

at first you just assumed she was sleeping somewhere else, but after eating you searched the house and couldn’t find her anywhere. walking back into the kitchen you happened to glance outside and your heart jumped in your chest.

then you started to panic.

looking out into the backyard you saw her stark white fur disappear into the thick brush of the forest, and you almost screamed out loud at the sight.

“fuck,” you exclaimed, your heart racing and your mind thinking of all the ways to try to get her back. you were always advised to not go into the forest...but you couldn’t let your poor cat who you loved very dearly to get mauled out there by some bigger animal.

you had to go after her.

you mustered you all the courage you had inside you, not bothering to change out of your ratty shorts and t-shirt before shoving your feet in your sneakers. you let out a shaky breath as you walked into your backyard, staring down the darkness of the forest with determination.

as you apprehensively made your way to the very entrance of the brush, you spotted a large crooked stick, and didn’t hesitate to grab it to use as a weapon if necessary.

you didn’t want to be completely defenseless against any supernatural creatures you came across. you had a gut feeling that running into one would be inevitable, and the fear rang like a siren in the back of your mind like a sonata.

the ‘do not enter’ and ‘keep out: danger’ signs did nothing to ease your pounding heart and screaming nerves, but you pressed on regardless. you had to do this, for your stupid cat.

with one large step, you passed the boundary of the trees, the wind picking up as soon as you did. a chill ran down your spine but you kept your legs moving, careful not to break your ankles on any protruding roots. it was incredibly dark, even though the sun was high in the sky, but the leaves of the towering trees cut out almost all light.

you stumbled around aimlessly for what felt like hours, but in reality it had only probably been about 45 minutes before you stopped and took a breather. checking your phone for the time, you felt a pang in your chest when you realized that it was off, and wouldn’t turn back on no matter how hard you tried.

“fuck,” you muttered, fear creeping up on your soul once again. you really didn’t want to be in this forest longer than necessary, and you really seriously contemplated just leaving your cat behind, as horrible as that was.

your eyes gazed around, taking in the trees surrounding you. nothing seemed too out of the ordinary...all though you really though you saw a few small dashes of light fly around you through your periphery. you prayed that they weren’t pixies or fairies of whatever else your grandmother told you about.

you didn’t trust anything, no matter how beautiful or non-threatening they seemed to be on the outside.

“hello there.” a voice spoke out suddenly, causing you to jump and spin around, dropping your makeshift weapon in the process.

your eyes met the sight of a young man who looked to be around your age, with a slightly unsettling smile upon his face. he was almost too handsome; the beauty that emanated from him in waves was incredibly addicting, and you felt the pull of him immediately. it was hard to tear your eyes away, and that scared you.

you had no idea where he had come from, nor did you know how he managed to so quietly sneak up behind you like he did. you definitely would have heard him coming, considering the amount of twigs and leaves littering the ground at your feet.

your heart raced at the possibility of who, or what, he was, your mind trying to go through everything your sweet old grandmother ever told you. some inner part of you already knew what you were dealing with.

“don’t hurt yourself, darling,” the man spoke again, referencing to your mind working in overtime. he took a step forward toward you, and in turn you took a large stumbling step back. he watched you move, chuckling. “I’m jaemin, care to tell me your name?”

“n-no,” you managed to say, your hands clutched at your chest as you tried to calm your racing heart. you swore you saw his eyes flicker a bright aquamarine for a moment before returning back to brown as his smile faltered slightly. It came back a split second later.

“you’re a smart girl,” he purred, most likely realizing that you knew he wasn’t human, inching closer once more. you felt frozen, unable to step back like you truly wanted to, and you willed yourself not to panic. “you know what I am, I presume?”

your lips shook as you opened your mouth to speak, your tongue running over your chapped lips and he watched every single movement, causing your body to shiver.

“I have a-an idea,” you softly whispered, not breaking eye contact as he stopped in front of you. he didn’t say a word, only smiling at you as you stayed frozen in your spot. one word screamed in your mind: elf. you didn’t even have to look at his pointed ears to deduct that. the vibe he gave off was abundantly clear, even if you had never encountered another being of his kind before.

it didn’t feel like he was compelling you; it was more or less your reaction to the immense shock and fear you felt, coming in contact with a creature your grandmother always warned you about.

and it’s all because of your dumb cat.

“l-look dude, I’m just trying to find my cat.” you stated strongly now, holding your ground as best you could as he looked at you intensely, that slightly unsettling smile never leaving his face.

“once it entered the forest it became mine.” he simply retorted, leaning against the tree trunk beside him. “anything that passes the trees here belongs to me…” he paused for a moment, his eyes now glowing a full bright aquamarine, startling you as he seared his gaze through your very soul. “so I guess that means you’re mine as well. how lucky.”

the elf spoke softly, but there was an edge to his tone that made you shiver, paired with his choice of words.

“I-I’m not..” you stuttered, your fists clenched by your sides. was he the ruler of the forest? some sort of elf king?

“you’re not?” he asked, chuckling to himself as he pushed his body from the tree, slowly slithering toward you on his bare feet. “did you not hear what I said? everything in this forest is mine. that includes living creatures,” you had no willpower to move away as he crowded your space, his glowing eyes paralyzing you as his body drew closer and closer. “I wonder what I should do with my new possession.” he smirked to himself, reaching a pale hand out to gently cup your chin, laughing lowly as you instinctively flinched. “you are without a doubt the prettiest thing I’ve seen enter my domain in years, princess. I’ve been waiting for you.”

his last sentence threw you off, but for a moment your brain couldn’t remember the whispers you heard all those years, and it didn’t click. you couldn’t deny that this elf man was attractive; and you couldn’t deny the fact that his voice had your legs weakening with every word he spoke. you cursed yourself mentally for being affected by him, because deep down you were aware of the danger of encountering elves.

thinking back to your cat, you wondered why she would have left the house in the first place. she was lazy and never wanted to really move...unless something was calling her…

your heart seemed to stop beating and your blood ran cold.

“you tr-tricked me…” you said in realization, your eyes widening. “you tricked me into coming in here, using m-my cat!” your voice was panicked and you found it hard to breathe. then, your brain finally figured it out. “you’re the one that’s been whispering to me all these years, aren’t y-you?”

he smiled at you with dark aquamarine eyes, and now you weren’t sure how you were going to get yourself out of this mess.

you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to get out of this mess.

wait, what?, your eyes widened at your own thoughts, where did that come from??

suddenly and without warning, your entire body was grasped in his hold. his hands dominantly gripped your waist and flipped you around so that your front was smacked up against a tree, the sharp bark scratching your cheek as your face was scraped against it.

“you’re my kitty now.” his voice whispered directly into your ear, his breath causing your body to visibly shiver in his hold.

you didn’t mean to whine, you really didn’t, but when he his teeth found your ear and nibbled gently on the skin, you couldn’t hold it in. your legs trembled beneath you as your knees weakened, the feeling of his warm body pressed tightly against your back leaving you wanting more and more.

he pressed deceivingly sweet kisses along your neck, your hands clutching the bark of the tree in response, your nails scratching along the surface. you jolted when you felt his right hand move down your front and nestle between your legs, putting pressure right against your covered center.

“hmm, you want it, don’t you?” he mumbled quietly, his chest rumbling against your back. “your thoughts are so loud, I know you can’t resist me.”

your thighs clenched in anticipation as he ran his long fingers delicately along your core through your shorts, and you let out a breathy whimper in response.

he tsk’d at you, giving your pussy a light slap through the thin fabric before completely drawing it away. “I wanna hear you say yes, kitty.”

his voice was demanding as he spoke, and you couldn’t disobey.

with your eyes glazing over, you gripped the tree trunk tightly and mewled out, “yes!”

you could practically hear him smirk, his chuckling causing you to grow even more wet as he finally slipped his hand down your front and into your shorts. when his long finger reached your bare and sensitive nub, you could help but arch your back, causing your ass to press tightly against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned right in your ear, his hips bucking and grinding against your behind in time with his strokes against your clit.

“you’re already so wet, darling,” he moaned out, dipping his finger down to circle your entrance. “I could just...slide right in.” with those words, he slipped his index finger into you in one clean movement, his long finger reaching deep inside your pussy.

you cried out when the tip of his finger brushed a sweet spot inside you, and you heard him groan in response, a deep chuckle following.

“good girl,” he muttered, casually slipping his middle finger inside you beside his pointer. the stretch had you throwing you head back, giving him access to your pretty neck. “be as loud as you want, baby. it’s just me, you, and the forest now.”

his hips grinding against your from behind never ceased, and he thrusted his fingers to the same rhythm as his hips. he was literally fingerfucking you; before you knew it he was adding a third finger.

to help with the burn of the stretch, he reached his free hand down and used two fingers to pinch and roll your clit, making you squeeze your eyes shut and clench your teeth at the sudden immense pleasure you were feeling.

it was embarrassing, but you were already so close to reaching your high. you really wanted this feeling to last forever, so you tried to hold it as long as you could.

the noises escaping from you only grew louder the harder he went; the powerful strokes from his hips driving you into the bark of the tree and his fingers plowing deep inside you had you practically screaming.

his lips found your neck and he left wet kisses there, his grains and growls only enhancing your feelings of ecstasy. he sounded like sin, and even though he was an elven boy that you had just stumbled across, you knew you didn’t want him to leave your life. you never wanted to live in a world where you couldn’t hear his moans, and that thought almost terrified you. the effect he was having on you was extremely intense, and you weren’t sure if it was normal, but at this point you were far too gone to care.

“are you gonna cum, kitty?” he strained out, breaking you out of your thought as his hips stuttered against your ass, his fingers still powerfully fucking into you. you could only nod desperately, your throat sore from the guttural sounds you were releasing.

he let out a breathy laugh, causing your walls to flutter around his digits. “then cum. I wanna feel you fucking drench my fingers.”

his words were all it took for you to let go. you screamed as you came, your nails scratching against the tree as your cheek scraped sharply on the bark, most likely drawing blood. your pussy clamped so hard around his fingers that he could barely move them in and out of you, so he drew circles over your clit to help you ride out your orgasm.

his hips pressed tightly against you, and you could feel through your own pants the wet spot on the front of his, indicating that he had cum as well.

after a powerful minute of cumming, you felt your eyes droop in exhaustion almost immediately. jaemin withdrew his fingers from you, wiping your essence on his pants before grouping your waist to keep you from collapsing. you definitely would have fallen if it weren’t for his hold on you.

he gently lowered you to the ground, turning your body so your back was able to rest against the trunk. he wiped at the scratches on your cheek with his thumb, but even though it stung you didn’t have the energy to flinch.

“go to sleep, precious.” he said softly, still stroking your face lovingly. his gentle nature should have set off all of the alarms in your mind and body, but you didn’t have enough energy to care.

in the back of your mind you realized that you probably would never see your cat or your grandmother again, and that you would most likely be trapped in this forest with jaemin for the rest of your days on earth. you didn't want to think about it now, so you took his advice and allowed your eyes to close, dreaming of jaemin and nothing else.

maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

[peach-the-owl]

Tainted Innocence

Percy & Younger Sibling!Reader

You let out a fit of coughs, being sick sucked, you couldn’t move without getting dizzy, you couldn’t join the family for dinner or else you might get someone else sick, and worst of all you couldn’t leave your room to play. So here you lay on your bed wishing to get better soon so you could play outside under the sun. A sudden commotion could be heard outside your door, shouts and screams ringing down the halls, you ever curious would’ve loved to investigate if it wasn’t for the fact that your dizzy head would make you nauseous the second you got up. The sounds only got louder until they were right outside your room, you throw the covers over your head in an attempt to hide from whatever the scary noise was. You hear your door open and try to stay as still and quiet as possible, unfortunately your hit with another fit of coughs making your presence known to whoever had entered.

"My my, what have we here?" The woman’s voice was vaguely familiar, making you peek out from under the covers to see only the darkened outline of a feminine figure. "Poor, sweet little (y/n), caught a fever have we?" The more they spoke the more you could recognize the voice as Delilah Briarwood's, you’d met her a once before and she seemed nice but now her tone sounded almost sinister for some reason.

"Yeah, I’m not feeling very well. You probably shouldn’t be here, I don’t want you to get sick too." You say innocently, before going into yet another fit of coughs. She lets out a chuckle, by now it seemed the sounds from outside your room had faded into nothing.

"How considerate of you to think of my well being. What if I were to tell you I knew a way that could… cure you of your ailments." The ominous undertones she had went right over your head.

"Really?! You can do that!?" You bounce excitedly in place, quickly stopping from the dizziness in your head.

"Not only that, but you'll never have to worry about getting sick ever again." The offer almost sounded too good to be true.

"That sounds awesome! Let’s do it!" You were brimming with excitement at the thought of never having to worry about sickness again.

"Calm down now, all will be well in due time. For now you should rest, my husband and I shall handle everything and I guarantee you’ll wake up like a brand new person." You give her a nod and are hit by a sudden wave of exhaustion. "Sleep now… my child." You don’t have time think about why she referred to you like that before your vision goes dark and your mind goes blank…

Lady Delilah was right, when you awoke again you no longer had your fever and felt completely different, but even though you did feel all better now you still weren’t allowed to leave the castle. You were only allowed to wander the wing where your room was or explore the catacombs, even then there wasn’t much you could do but that's what you were told you were allowed so you had to follow the rules. It was strange though to be told all this by the Briarwoods, wondering why it was them instead of your parents to tell you all these new rules and why one of the rules was you couldn’t see anyone else in your family. You had asked about this once but Delilah only told you that once you were ready they’d tell you everything, so time went by and you stayed alone, forced to play inside away from any sunlight, almost completely isolated from social contact. You don’t know how long it’s been, no longer having a way to tell day from night made it really hard to know how many hours or days had passed, everything just blurring together. There was one other thing that really bothered you and that was this strange sensation you’d get from time to time, it was almost like you were hungry but also not because you’d eat like normal and the feeling wouldn’t go away. You told the Briarwood's about this but Lord Sylas just told you that if you’d ignore it then it would go away by itself, what he didn’t tell you is that you’d pass out and wake up with a strange metallic-y taste in your mouth, at least the feeling went away though, right?

Another day, or what you thought might be a day, goes by as you wander the tunnels having mapped them out to memory by now. You brought some toys with you to play around with for some entertainment and hoping deep down that one day something new or different might finally happen, then you heard something faint hit your ears. It was different but at the same time it could’ve just been another rat scurrying around with how faint it was so you ignore it. There's another sound like quick footsteps approaching getting louder until it comes to a halt close to where you were playing making you glance over your shoulder at the man staring at you. He looked very familiar you just couldn’t place why right away, you turn to fully face them and have a better look.

"Hi there mister. You look familiar, do I know you?" You ask them with a slight tilt to your head. They just stare at you in silence their eyes wide in horror, you look behind you to see if they were looking at something behind you but find nothing and look back at them in confusion. "Is something wrong?" You step towards them and they step away in retaliation furthering your confusion.

"No no nononono. This isn’t real, you can’t be real." He presses his hands to his head, his voice also sounded familiar, who was he?

"You’re really weird." You then poke your arm to as a way to show you were really there, then let out a giggle. "See, I’m real, if I was fake I couldn’t poke my arm." You place your hands triumphantly on your waist but the man didn’t look impressed, instead he looked like he was going to vomit. "Are you okay? You don’t look well." You take another step towards him out of concern.

"Don’t come any closer!" He holds up a strange item you’ve never seen before, there’s a slight shake to his hand. You stop and stare interested in the strange item, it had fancy engravings on it, six hollow slots and some odd mechanism the man warily held a finger over.

"What’s that? It’s so cool and fancy, what does it do?" You lean in closer to it curiously.

"This isn’t real, you’re just an illusion to mess with my head." He sounded hesitant, like he was trying to convince himself of something. Having been able to look at the man this long it finally clicked in your head why he was so familiar.

"Wait a second… Percy?" This fully draws his attention back onto you. "It is you! What happened? How did you get so big and why's your hair all white?" He looked so different, no wonder you didn’t recognize your own brother right away. He doesn’t answer you, just stares with a look of conflict in his eyes and continues to hold the strange object in his hand towards you, you paying no mind to it. "This is great! Lord and Lady Briarwood said I wasn't allowed talk to anyone, I don’t know why though, but you’re here now so who cares! I miss talking to people, the guards are no fun and there’s hardly anything to do anymore…" You start to ramble on about how boring things have gotten and how you made due, still wondering why or how Percy got so tall and looked so much older. "Where is everyone else? I want to ask mother and father why the Briarwoods seem to be in charge." This statement really got to Percy, making his eyes go wide in realization.

"You… you don’t know?" You tilt your head in confusion, what where you supposed to know. There’s a strange wispy or smoky substance that trails up Percy's arm, then the sound of a loud bang followed by ringing fills your ears, something grazed past your cheek, cutting into it a little and leaving a lingering stinging sensation behind. You quickly place a hand on your cheek where it hurt, recoiling away only hearing a clattering and soft thud after a moment of silence. You slowly turn back and see your brother had dropped the item from his hand and was on his knees, holding his face in both his free hands now, his entire body physically shaking and he lets out a series of coughs.

"P-Percy? Are you okay?" You approach with much more caution this time, trying to ignore the throbbing pain still in your cheek. More footsteps can be heard hurrying towards your location.

"We heard gunfire and came as fast as we could." A half-elven man was the first to reach your location, he looks over seeing you and takes a step back in surprise.

"Hi there, are you a friend of Percy's?" You ask, rocking back and forth on your feet.

"I am. Did you do this to him?" There was a threatening tone to his voice that made you feel scared and uncomfortable.

"I don’t know, I was just playing because I was bored, then he showed up and I didn’t recognize him at first, then I did and got really excited because I haven’t seen anyone in what feels like forever, then there was a loud bang and now my cheek hurts and he was just like this." You try to explain as best as you could. By now others who were most likely with the half-elf showed up, having heard at least some of your explanation, they looked at you with wide eyes. "And why does everyone look at me like that, is there something wrong with my face or something?"

"That’s one way to put it." A half-elven woman who looked very similar to the male one talks slowly. "Do you mind telling us your name little one?"

"Of course! I’m (y/n) de Rolo." You reply proudly.

"You’re a de Rolo?" The glowing gnome sounded sad for some reason, why was everyone sad? Shouldn’t this be a good thing?

"Yeah… why are you all acting so weird? What’s going on? Who are you?" You cross your arms, getting a little frustrated from your lack of answers, just wanting to be in the know. They whisper among themselves, you barely catchy anything coherent before they turn back to face you.

"Do you mind giving us a minute alone, please." Percy having finally gotten a better hold of himself asks, you give a small nod and step away, picking up your discarded toys to mindlessly play with. You discovered if your really focused you could hear what they were whispering about, though it was hard to decipher who’s voice belonged to who.

"Is it true? Are they really your…"

"I-I’m not sure anymore." You were able to at least tell your brothers voice apart from the others.

"How could you not know!?"

"They seem pretty clueless themselves, it’s like they not only still have the body of a child but also the mentality of one too."

"Perhaps that’s from the lack of social contact, they did say they’ve been alone for a long time."

"Percy… this changes everything we know."

"No, this changes nothing, it only makes it more complicated."

"How can you say something like that, they’re your family!"

"They’ve been turned into a monster, whether they’re aware of it or not!" You frown when you hear this tuning out the rest of their conversation, that couldn’t be right you’re not a monster, sure things were weird and you’ve felt different since your illness was cured but that didn’t make you a monster… did it? You sit aback and look yourself over, holding out your arms in the dim lighting which you now realized you could see rather well in, you always thought that was just because you were so used to coming down here that your eyes adjusted quickly, but now you didn’t know anymore. Focusing back on your arms you also notice that your skin was extremely pale then what it normally was. When was the last time you’d seen yourself in a mirror? You’ve passed some in the halls of the castle but never payed much mind to them, and now that you thought about it when was the last time you’d seen the sunshine? You really missed playing outside but always just followed the rules the Briarwood's gave you because they were the grownups and they knew what was best, right? The sound of footsteps coming back your way slightly pull you from your thoughts, but you don’t bother looking up and just stare at the ground in front of you. You hear a shaky sigh but before they can speak you beat them to it.

"There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there." Your blissful joy was gone, replaced with doubt and sadness.

"I-how much did you hear?" Percy's voice wasn’t as angry sounding as it was earlier but there was still tension in it.

"I don’t know, you said something about me being a monster. I thought you were just saying that because you were angry for some reason, but I don’t know anymore. Am-am I really a monster?" You turn and look up at him seeing him flinch slightly, but not quite intentionally. Your lip quivers as you shrink more into yourself. "When we used to play pretend the monsters were always the bad guys… I don’t want to be a bad guy." You whimper and tears start trailing down your face as you try to hide in your arms.

"I didn’t… you’re not… it’s just…" He lets out a long breath followed by a cough and a longer pause. "(Y/n) look at me…" another pause, you don’t move. "Hey, look at me." You feel warm hands pry your face up to make you look at your brother, now you were the one to slightly flinch from the slight sting that was still on your cheek. The two of you have a small staring contest before he speaks up again. "Listen carefully, things are no longer the way you remember them to be, a lot has changed for the worst and for some reason or another you’ve been left to be blissfully unaware of all of it. I don’t know why they decided to do this to you, but I swear we'll figure this out together one step at a time."

"We will?" You give him a hopeful look, he nods slowly

"I hope so… I don’t know who I can all trust here anymore. Things are stressful right now, but if you don’t want to be a part of the bad guys, as you put it, my friends and I are going to need your help. Can you do that, can I really trust you?"

"Yes! I want to help my brother stop the bad guys." You put on your most serious look, Percy then releases his hold on you and you stand up. "Hey Percy?" He lets out a slight hum of acknowledgement. "When we're all done, does that mean I’ll be able to play outside in the sun again?"

"One step at time…" He trails off with a somber sigh. The two of you now heading over to rejoin Percy's group so you could be properly introduced.

Should I continue something with this for a part 2?… or just leave it as is…? Idk, you tell me

[imagine-loki]

The Tragedy of Thor of Asgard

TITLE: The Tragedy of Thor of Asgard CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One shot AUTHOR: colifower ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki attending a play about his little adventure in Svartalfheim. It is too poorly written that he decides to take the matter into his own hands… The tragedy of Loki is born. RATING: G NOTES/WARNINGS: It’s an option on my Choose your own adventure fic, which was too confusing to be posted in IL. Link to the full story here!

“I’m in desperate need to take a day off. I’ll do it today; not much is happening anyways” shouted Loki-as-Odin. He had been suplanting his not-father for a while now and was only starting to learn the extents of Odin’s routine, which mainly consisted in doing nothing and claiming his counselor’s ideas as his own, so in order to fix it Loki had to take a few extra hours. He summoned their not-father’s horse as soon as he could and pet it’s side. He desperately wanted to ride with his own horse, Apricot, but still had to deal with the appearences.

They trotted out of the stables and into the sunshine. It was truly a good day to go for a horse walk. “Yes, that’s what I’m going to do! We’re going to the blue fountain! It’ll be very nice today, maybe even have a bath…”

Loki stopped his train of thought when he saw a yellow banner ad. “The tragedy of Thor of Asgard. Find out the details of The Midgardian’s murder of Queen Frigga, the betrayal of Prince Loki The Jötun and much more…” they read out loud. “Well, you got me interested. Let’s see the depths of asgardian propaganda.”

*

“This is going to be so painfully inaccurate” he muttered to himself while getting sited. He had parked Sleipnir a bit far away from the place not to bring much attention to himself. The piece was performed at a corral de comedias *, quite a musty place for a king. Loki foolishly hoped nobody paid much attention to the attending Allfather, but as soon as the space started to get filled, he noted the looks of the gossipy aesir piercing through his skin. He couldn’t do much about it now, so he remained seated and quiet, trying to remain unnoticeable.

The crowd got quiet as the actors came to the stage.

ACT 1 Scene I

Enter CHOIR.

CHOIR

Oh Norns be gentle with us. Our fates are sealed and our lives have no meaning. But what do we hear from the palace above? It must be Prince Thor and his latest human conquest. Look at her rags and horrid features: must be an evil witch, no human could have captured the Prince’s attentions otherwise.

“Wrong in so many levels” Loki murmured. Several of the attendees shushed at him. He got quite surprise with their support for the play, but said no more. It was going to be a long two hours.

Enter THE HAG, FRIGGA, THOR wiggling Mjolnir quite violently

THOR

I do not understand, mother. Why couldn’t we just kill Loki? One jötun less, one problem less.

FRIGGA

Can’t you see, my son? Even if we take his life, we will get nothing in return. He is an evil man and we already lost him along the way. We cannot do a single thing to save those poor midgardian’s lives. It’s best to leave things be. That’s what your father wants us to do.

THOR

But we must avenge the fallen. He murdered those 72 innocent guards. He’s just like Malekith The Dark, who burned Svartalfheim’s whole population alive.

FRIGGA

The sorrow will kill me. My own son betraying us like this.

Leaves crying

ACT I scene II

THOR

I still think we should do something about it. What do you think, my beloved?

THE HAG

Oh my muscular, muscular man. You are so right, we cannot stand here and do nothing while the monster is still alive. It is a risk for our people.

THOR

Our people? Does that mean you will marry me?

THE HAG

If you desire so.

THOR

Well, I…

A cloud of green smoke appears and surrounds THOR while THE HAG shakes her arms around. She is enchanting him to do as she pleases.

I do! I will marry you!

THE HAG

I am the happiest woman alive.

They embrace.

ACT 2 Scene I

Enter FRIGGA with a flower vase. THOR and THE HAG are still embracing each other.

FRIGGA

Oh sweet Valhalla!

She drops the flower vase.

Thor, my son. What are you doing?

THOR

Embracing my beloved, mother. We are to get wed this afternoon.

THE HAG [Aside]

Yes! My evil plan is coming to fruition. Soon after the wedding I’d just have to kill old king Odin to become the most powerful being in the universe.

FRIGGA

What did you say, my dear?

THE HAG

Oh, nothing. I am very excited by the event.

CHOIR

Oh, your majesty, our beloved royals, look outside the window. The forces of evil are slaughtering us! We need the help of our hero prince Thor to save our lives from the poisonous knives of the dark elves.

THE HAG

Is that true?

FRIGGA

Oh dear!

THOR

I’ll butcher the monsters that hunt our people. Wait for me, mother, wait for me, my beloved. I’ll be back in a heartbeat.

Exits

ACT 2 scene II

THE HAG

Well… now that we are alone…

Stabs FRIGGA

FRIGGA

Oh cruel Norns. To die at the hands of an evil creature like you. Ladies like me aren’t suitable to hold a knife, I didn’t stand a chance.

THE HAG

Ha! Only midgardian woman are enough deprived to learn the ways of war.

FRIGGA

Curse you sudden but inevitable betrayal!

Dies

THE HAG

One step closer to victory.

ACT 3 scene I

CHOIR

The dark elves’ threat is gone! Hooray the soon-to-be king! But inside the palace there are still some scoundrels left to slaughter. Prince Thor will surely get here in a minute

Enter DARK ELVES SOLDIERS and LOKI. His green cape is twice as long as his own height.

THE HAG

Who are you?

DARK ELF SOLDIER 1

Your new king! Bow to him.

THE HAG

I think not!

She moves her arms around and a green cloud of smoke surrounds the stage.

By the power of Girlb-oss you shall be defeated.

DARK ELF SOLDIER 1

Oh no!

DARK ELF SOLDIER 2

We are dead.

The soldiers die. LOKI starts circling THE HAG, ready to attack.

THE HAG

Damn! My seidr never fails me.

LOKI

The girlb-oss invocation doesn’t work on me, since I am both a seidr user and a weak man.

THE HAG

How is that even possible?

LOKI

I am evil.

THE HAG

Yeah, that makes sense.

LOKI

Anyways, time for you to die.

Stabs her

THE HAG

Curse you! You disgusting and treacherous creature. You will perish soon and painfully.

LOKI

If you say so.

She dies

ACT 3 scene II

Enter THOR

THOR

What is this? Mother is dead? My beloved too? Who has done this?

LOKI

Not me.

THOR

You ungrateful bastard. No jötun should be trusted

THOR and LOKI fight dramatically. THOR is the superior fighter. LOKI lays on the ground without much movement.

LOKI

I am defeated. I die now.

LOKI dies for no reason whatsoever. THOR doesn’t even threaten him with a weapon.

THOR

No! My brother no!

Enter ODIN

ODIN

We shall mourn the dead. My son Loki the treacherous should be buried like the rest, with honour. Even if he was born a monster, he was still my son. I’ll carry my queen to the boats, where they all shall reach Valhalla.

THE END

“What a bunch of nonsense” Loki-as-Odin muttered to himself yet again. “My muscular, muscular man. What does that even mean? And the xenophobia was off the charts (although it’s nothing new anyways), Dr Foster didn’t even have a name! Argh! So frustrating. Somebody needs to sort that mess before it has the chance to become a problem.”

An idea crossed his mind.

“Maybe I should tell the real Tragedy of Loki of Asgard.”

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Loss  (one shot)

Harry Potter Marauders Era-Post Hogwarts 

Request: Will your write something angsty after Regulus dies?

Summary: Death is never easy...especially when it's the person that you love.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M- mature themes and character death. Angst. Soul crushing angst. 

______

“Regulus is dead. I’m sorry to tell you this way.”

Walburga’s emotionless comment swirled through your mind as you lay in a crumpled heap. You had woken up from your drunken stupor. Looking around, you sighed finding yourself on the bathroom floor. It had been 3 awful months and it was as painful as the moment that you found out your lover was gone.

Gone…

The word itself made your body wretch. You barely made it to the toilet before throwing up what was left in your stomach. Between vomiting and sobbing, it was a miracle that your head hadn’t exploded. You wouldn’t have objected too much to death yourself.

Since Regulus died, under strange circumstances, you didn’t want to live. Life itself no longer had a meaning. You didn’t want to live without him. Being married for less than a month and already a widow was something that you never planned for!

“Y/n?”

You groaned hearing Lily’s voice. Groaning, you didn’t want to deal with your sister-in-law at the moment. You wanted James, Lily, Remus, Peter and Sirius to leave you alone. They were always in your business lately trying in some way to “cheer” you up. You rolled your eyes at the thought. There was no cheering you up. You only wanted to be left alone.

“I’m fine.”

You snapped. Lily took a breath.

“Honey, you sound dreadful. Why don’t you come out and let me make you some chicken soup? It will feel nice on your tummy.”

The mere thought of food made you want to vomit again. Even the promise of Lily’s amazing soup didn’t interest you. Food tasted like ash in your mouth. Nothing tasted good nor did it provide you anything that you needed. The only thing that you wanted was the bottle of fire whiskey that you had to hide in your room.

“I’m not hungry.”

You replied. Lily, on the other side of the door, felt her own heartbreak a little more. Since Regulus’ death, you had changed from a happy bubbly girl to a shadow of what you used to be. She understood though. 3 months ago, you were eagerly planning your wedding. Now you were drunk 95% of the time and in a deep state of depression that no one could fix.

Lily had been the designated one to “comfort” you. James, bless him for trying, made the mistake of saying “not eating will not bring Regulus back.” From that day forward, James was no longer allowed to attempt in comforting you.

“Sweetheart, you haven’t eaten in two days. This isn’t healthy.”

Lily replied, There was silence on the other side of the bathroom door for a few moments.

“Lily, please. Just leave me alone.”

You waited until Lily walked away before falling back to the cold bathroom floor. Closing your eyes, all you wanted was to fall into a deep dreamless sleep…

Lily, meanwhile, stepped back into the kitchen where Sirius, James, Remus, and Walburga sat. The older woman immediately looked up.

“Well?”

Lily sighed.

“She won’t come out.”

Walburga groaned and leaned back into her chair.

“We have to do something about her. The girl has taken up residence in the bathroom and won’t leave. I’m worried about her.”

Lily nodded. She focused her attention on Mrs. Black. Had someone told her a few months ago that she would be sitting in the Black family home, Lily would have called them mad. Walburga Black hated everyone.

When Regulus died, and you went to shit, Walburga broke down and called her eldest son for help. Had it been anyone but you, Sirius would have told his mother to figure it out on her own. You were different. You were as close to a sister as Sirius would ever get and he wouldn’t let you go through this alone.

James stood up.

“We need to do something. I don’t know what though. She won’t talk to us. When she does...it's just staring and us doing the talking. I love my sister but this isn’t healthy. Regulus wouldn’t want her being like...this.”

Walburga frowned up at him.

“Of course, he wouldn’t but you don’t need to be telling her that...especially the way you did. Potter, you can be such an idiot.”

James held his hands up.

“Hey, lady, you called us for help! I love my sister but we can’t go on like this forever. If we don’t do something about her, she may die...I can’t handle that thought.”

Sirius' hand stood up and pulled James into an awkward hug.

“We’ll figure it out, mate. Nothing is going to happen to Y/n.”

You had pulled yourself out of the bathroom and overheard the conversation. Quietly, you turned and walked back to what was Regulus’ room. Laying down in the bed, you sighed as the tears came over you again. His scent was fading from the soft sheets and it was crushing you. The little “reminders” of your lover were slowly fading.

“Mistress?”

You quickly sat up as Kreacher popped into the room. Kreacher was the one being that you would let within five feet of you.

“Hello, Kreacher.”

You said, wiping a tear away from your cheek as Kreacher held out a tissue.

“Poor mistress. It makes Kreacher sad to see you upset. Master Regulus wouldn’t…”

“I know. He wouldn’t want me like this.”

You finished the elf’s sentence. Kreacher nodded. He knew that with you, he had the freedom to speak as he wished. You wouldn’t punish him, Like Regulus, you were kind to him and Kreacher didn’t forget it.

“Kreacher didn’t mean to upset you.”

He replied. You shook your head. Of course, Regulus wouldn’t want you like this. He would probably be beyond upset if he knew how you were behaving. You weren’t some “Mary Sue” who went to shit when something happened to someone they loved. Y/n Potter was the strong one...or so everyone thought. When the soul-sucking depression kicked in, no one knew how to deal with you.

“You didn’t upset me. I know Regulus wouldn’t want me like this. I don’t want to be like this but I will never be happy again. Kreacher, I have a question.”

Kreacher nodded.

“Yes, mistress?”

You swallowed. This was a cruel question to ask the elf. He was suffering from the loss of Regulus as much as you were.

“Did Regulus know that he was going to die that night?”

Kreacher’s eyes widened. He had been keeping his promise to Regulus and now he would break it.

“Kreacher, if something happens to me...do not tell Y/n the truth. Don’t let her know anything because she will come after me. I do not want her harmed.”

“Mistress, Kreacher can’t answer that. Master Regulus...he made me promise.”

You bit your lip. The night Regulus died, there was something different in his eyes when he kissed you goodbye. At that time, you couldn’t put your mind to it. You assumed that he was moody over a task that the dark lord had given him. Working as a double agent was beginning to wear on him more than Regulus would admit. You could see it every time, he started brooding on a subject.

Thinking back on that night, you weren't sure how you missed it. Regulus held onto you for a long time before leaving. The last kiss was different. Now, looking back, you realized how “final” it felt.

“Everything will be fine. I’ll be back with you as soon as I can. I promise. If anything happens while I’m away...just run...get as far away from London as possible...don’t look back.”

You could still hear Regulus’ voice as he held your face close to his. Shaking the thoughts from your head, you turned back to Kreacher. The poor elf was beyond troubled by your order.

“Kreacher, I order you to tell me.”

“Master Regulus had a feeling. He ordered Kreacher to not tell you. He didn’t want you to…”

You jumped out of bed and started looking for your coat.

“Take me to where it happened, Kreacher.”

Kreacher’s mouth dropped as he quickly ran to you and wrapped his scaly little arms around your leg.

“Mistress, please don’t make Kreacher do this. You’ll be killed too. Kreacher and Mistress Walburga do not want to lose you too. Master Regulus wouldn’t want you to be harmed.”

You quickly tugged on your coat and attempted to fix your bed ravaged curls. The smart side of your brain said to stop. This was madness. If you went after Regulus, you would probably die too. The depressed side however said, oh well. You would get your wish. You could be with Regulus again.

Maybe it was a selfish thing to do...to go like this. It would hurt those you loved more than you would possibly realize. In your current state, however, you didn’t see it that way. You wanted the truth that no one would give you. If you died getting that truth...oh well. Your friends would be okay without you. They were strong.

“Take me to him, Kreacher.”

Kreacher started sobbing hysterically at this command.

“Please don’t make Kreacher do it. Kreacher already watched Master Regulus die…”

“Now, Kreacher.”

You said, emotionlessly. Kreacher looked up and hesitantly took your hand.

The next thing that you knew, you stood in a dark cave with nothing around you but water. Kreacher was holding your hand like a toddler would a parent that they didn’t want to let out of their sight.

“What is this place?”

You questioned. Kreacher looked up.

“The dark lord...Master Regulus found out one of his secrets. It was a locket...a locket that could change everything. Master Regulus made Kreacher take him back here after the dark lord made Kreacher drink a nasty potion. Mistress, Master died a hero...can’t that be enough?”

You shook your head.

“What actually happened here?”

Kreacher sighed. He knew that he was not getting through to you. There was a vacant empty expression in your normally kind eyes.

“Master Regulus had to drink a potion to switch the locket. The potion...it's horrible. Kreacher offered to drink it again but Master Regulus said no and drank it himself. He gave Kreacher the locket and ordered Kreacher to destroy it but that hasn’t happened.”

You took in the elf’s words with a frown.

“What happened to Regulus?”

Kreacher’s bloodshot eyes went to the lake where Regulus was dragged in.

“Master Regulus was drowned by the inferi. He went under the water and Kreacher was only able to watch. Mistress, we must go...it isn’t safe here.”

You patted Kreacher’s head ignoring the elf’s pleas before slowly walking down to the waterline.

“Don’t interfere.”

You ordered. Kreacher meanwhile, was jumping up and down in a panicked state as you looked down into the water. Your heart froze the moment that you saw Regulus lying right below the surface of the water. It took all that you had not to jump in after him.

“Reggie…”

You whispered his name, half expecting his grey eyes to open but they didn’t. Looking down at him, you were relieved that he didn’t look “dead.” He simply looked as if he had been asleep. His dark curls floated around his head just dying for you to reach out for him. Your eyes fluttered down to his full lips as your mouth suddenly ached for his kiss again. It would be so easy. Just one last touch...

“Mistress, please don’t. Master Regulus isn’t alive anymore...he’s…”

“Gone.”

You finished Kreacher’s sentence before slowly dipping your hand into the water. The moment that your fingers grazed over his left hand, Regulus’ eyes snapped open. His dreamy gaze had been replaced with that of a monster. Milk white orbs glared up at you as his right hand reached over and effortlessly tugged you into the water.

As you suddenly decided to fight back, you couldn’t breakaway. Regulus’ arms were around your waist tugging you deeper and deeper into the lake. Your lungs ached for air.

“Well, isn’t this nice? So this is death...this is what I wanted…”

Regulus’ arms tightened, if possible, around your waist. As everything began to become hazy, you reached out touching his cheek.

“Till death do us part…”

You thought before everything went black….

“Y/n?”

You heard your name being called...the voice...that voice.

“Wake up, Y/n.”

You felt your eyes move before slowly opening. Regulus sat in front of you with a worried frown on his face.

“Regulus!”

You were up and in his arms, knocking Regulus backward. His arms were around you as he broke into a smile.

“Hi, my love.”

Reaching out, you cupped his face. The dream was warm...warm and real.

“Am I dead? This is heaven?”

Regulus gently sat both of you upward. His smile fell and for a moment you worried that he was angry. He ran his hand down the length of your face. Regulus knew exactly what happened. He had seen all of it. What you didn’t realize was he was watching the whole time shrieking and begging you to listen to Kreacher. The moment you hit the water, he knew begging was doing him no favors. Regulus could only watch as you met the same grizzly fate as him.

Soon...

“Yes. I’ve been waiting for you...I kind of expected it to not be so soon.”

You couldn’t meet his gaze.

“I didn’t want to be without you.”

Regulus snuggled his forehead against yours. Your eyes shined up at him as you breathed his scent in. For the first time, you felt at peace.

“Now we don’t have to be away from each other...ever again.”

(Epilogue...years later…)

Harry stood in front of Horace Slughorn’s “shelf” looking at all of the photos of his favorite students. His eyes stopped on a familiar face. Harry had seen your photo numerous times of the years especially since Sirius had come into his life. Slughorn walked over and smiled instantly looking at the photo.

“Ah yes, you aunt Y/n. She was such a lovely girl. This photo was taken at her wedding to your uncle Regulus Black. There had never been a more beautiful bride. It's a shame things went the way that they did for Regulus and Y/n. Fate can be cruel and confusing. I know Y/n would have never been happy without Regulus. People said she was weak because she didn’t make it without him. I don’t think that she was though. Love is a wonderful thing but it can also be brutal.”

Harry could only nod and hope that you had gotten the peace that you were looking for. Maybe just maybe, he had his parents and his aunt looking down upon him proud with what they saw…

______

@amelie-black

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[amalthea9]

LOTR FA: Frodo Marries Cornflower in Rivendell

My collab with @cinefantastiquemitho  of Ian Holm's Frodo with my hobbit, Cornflower Baggins. I edited a few things, but the core is writing, so please praise them above me! The song featured is from the amazing Loreena McKennit, which I will link. It really projects how Cornflower feels towards Frodo leaving for Mordor later. 

https://youtu.be/f5CPjlqZNfE

FRODO MARRIES CORNFLOWER IN RIVENDELL.

AN ORIGINAL IDEA BY: AMALTHEA9

WRITING BY: CINEFANTASTIQUEMITHO

The sun awoke.

And with him, the people of Rivendell.

Cornflower opened the curtains of her window, and saw a procession of elves, with Gandalf at their front, walking to sit on benches in front of a myrtle tree.

-Oh sweet stars, how many people!

Exclaimed Cornflower, surprised at the vision of the procession.

-Are you nervous, my dear?

Asked Arwen, sweetly behind her.

-Cornflower, nervous?! Ha! More nervous must be the groom!

Exclaimed Tulip coming to Cornflower’s side.

-I feel that I am just as nervous as him, Tulip.

Answered Cornflower shyly to her witty friend.

-There are almost more people here to watch our wedding than Uncle Bilbo’s 111 birthday party, back at the Shire. Seventeen years ago, our Uncle was the center of attention. Now, the center of attention will be Frodo and me. It’s difficult for us to get accustomed to it.

Arwen took Cornflower gently by the shoulders and slowly turned the sweet hobbit lady’s face to look at her warm blue eyes.

-From the moment you put on your dress and the niphredil crown, there will be no one watching you. There will be only Frodo, waiting to hold your hand and kneel at your feet under the myrtle tree.

Hearing these words of encouragement from the elven lady, Cornflower sighed with relief and gave her a joyful smile.

At this moment, Tulip took Cornflower’s hand, exclaiming:

-So let’s go to the baths and get ready! Because we cannot let poor Frodo wait! And Gandalf is impatient! 

And holding hands, the two hobbit ladies ran swiftly from Arwen’s chambers, laughing in excitement and joy.

While the ladies were getting prepared for the ceremony in the baths, at Bilbo’s chambers, Glorfindel gave the final adjustments to a golden vest that clothed Frodo Baggins, who was looking anxious in front of a large mirror.

-And now we are... finished!

Exclaimed a proud Glorfindel.

-Earendil and Gil-Galad pale under my nephew’s handsomeness.

Said Bilbo proudly.

-Oh please, stop Bilbo, you are making me more nervous!

Replied Frodo, starting to tremble.

-Will you feel more calm if I say you actually look like an ugly troll?

Commented Boromir playfully.

-What he actually needs is a good cup of chamomile and fennel tea.

Commented Aragorn, offering a steaming cup to Frodo, who readily accepted it.

-But not the whole cup, Aragorn, or he will fall asleep for the rest of the day!

Now it was a concerned Legolas’s turn to remark.

-I think the groom would feel more calm if we give him some time alone. Come now, gentleman, let’s join the good wizard at the myrtle tree.

Suggested Gimli, gesturing like he was pushing all the man out of the chambers.

Aragorn was the last to leave,and he closed the door behind him.

Frodo looked around, realizing he was alone.

So he looked at his face in the mirror, and, with a handkerchief, cleaned a few drops of sweat from his forehead.

-What if she doesn’t want to marry me anymore? What will Ido?

Frodo asked his reflection.

Then he took a deep breath, and exclaimed, this time with a more confident voice:

-No, Frodo Baggins! She already made a dangerous journey away from the Shire to an unknown place, to be with you! She will not give up. Neither nor ever! She loves me and I love her!

As soon as he finished that proclamation, Frodo heard a knock at the door.

-Mister Frodo, are you ready?

It was the voice of Samwise.

-Yes Sam, come in!

Sam opened the door and entered.

-Sweet heavens! Cornflower will be the proudest bride when he sees you in that golden vests!

-Most proud will be dear lady Rosie Cotton, when you marry her.

Answered Frodo with a teasing grin.

Sam blushed at the remark.

-It is too soon to talk of dreams, Mister Frodo. Now, we must concentrate our attention on what is real. And what is real is that we are going to find Cornflower under the myrtle tree.

And quickly with a giggle and bright smile, Sam pushed Frodo out of Bilbo’s chambers. Frodo giggling along with Sam.

Finally, Frodo was under the myrtle tree, with Sam, Merry, and Pippin at his side. They were his three men of honor, who wore matching clothes of a fiery orange color.

Gandalf also was standing at their side. He still kept the grey clothing, but it appeared less ragged and more formal. Though his hat and staff were unchanged, because Cornflower insisted he wear the hat she loved so much.

In the front seats, there were sitting Aragorn, Arwen, Glorfindel, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli and his father Glóin.

Those men were also wearing fiery orange vests, while Arwen wore a beautiful blue dress.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin were watching Boromir’s lips, and ha the impression that he was saying something along the lines of “You still have time to run away, Frodo”. With a playful grin.

The three cheerful hobbits became anxious that Frodo would be seeing this and consider running away. But when they looked at the once blushing groom, they sighed with relief: His eyes weren’t looking in the direction of the benches, but instead to the free space between them, that was now being covered by a carpet of colorful flower petals released by Tulip, who came down the aisle wearing a pretty blue dress.

An female elf, adorned in white, began to play a golden harp and sing:

-The road now leads onward As far as can be Winding lanes And hedgerows in threes By purple mountains Round every bend All roads lead to you There is no journey's end

Here is my heart and I give it to you Take me with you across this land These are my dreams, so simple and few Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands

 Right behind Tulip, came Cornflower, escorted by Uncle Bilbo, who was supported by his cane.

Bilbo was also matching his companions with fiery orange vests, along with a single niphredil pinned to his vest.

Cornflower wore a beautiful dress of a pale gold color, and her brown curls were adorned by a crown of niphredil flowers. The dress shimmered in the light of the sun, and to Frodo, she looked like an elven princess.

-Deep in the winter Amidst falling snow High in the air Where the bells they all toll And now all around me I feel you still here Such is the journey No mystery to fear

Here is my heart and I give it to you Take me with you across this land These are my dreams, so simple so few Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands

When Bilbo arrived with Cornflower to where Frodo stood, he kissed his beloved niece’s hand, and put it over Frodo’s hand. Then, the old adventurer walked away to sit at his old friend Glóin’s side.

-The road now leads onward I know not where I feel in my heart That you will be there Whenever a storm comes Whatever our fears The journey goes on As your love ever nears

Then, Frodo and Cornflower slowly dropped to their knees while holding hands.

-Here is my heart and I give it to you Take me with you across this land These are my dreams, so simple and few Dreams we hold in the palm of our hands

Lord Elrond came forward, and started to speak:

-It was the great Eru of the Iluvatar, God of Arda, that first gave birth to all of creation. He pledged to watch over us as his children. It is from his love of us that we first learned to love one another. It is from this love that we learn that a life lived alone is no life at all. We gather here today, under Eru's loving gaze, to bear witness to the union of two souls in eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life, and the next. Iin prosperity and poverty, in joy and hardship. 

Frodo, son of Drogo. Do you agree to be bound together with Cornflower, daughter of Cotman, in love, now and forever?

-I do. Now and forever.

Frodo confirmed, beaming at Cornflower as tears ran down his blushing cheeks.

-And you Cornflower, daughter of Cotman: Do you agree to be bound together with Frodo, son of Drogo, in love, now and forever?

-I do. Now and forever.

Cornflower replied, her own eyes filled with joyful tears, beaming at her Frodo.

-If any of those who are here has any protests against this union, speak now...

Elrond didn’t even have time to finish the speech before Boromir was raising his hand. This worried the man and maid of honor.  Fortunately, Cornflower and Frodo only had eyes for each other. So they did not seeing Boromir’s gesture.

-Please, my Lord, skip this part, the knees of those poor hobbits cannot stand the floor any longer!

Gimli could not resist nudging Boromir in the arm.

-Behave yourself, Boromir! This is a solemn ceremony!

-The wedding rings. Where are they?

Asked Elrond.

-Oh, give me just a moment.

Said Gandalf, taking off his hat and placing one hand inside it.

He searched inside it, making Cornflower giggle in delight, and from there made a clenched fist.

-There!

Opening his hand, Gandalf showed two silver rings.

-Fortunately I did not lose them!

Said the old wizard, handing the rings to the couple.

First, Frodo kissed the ring in his hand, and then placed it on Cornflower’s ring finger.

It was Cornflower’s turn to kiss the ring that she held, and placed it on Frodo’s ring finger.

-I proclaim you husband and wife. Bound together in love, now and forever. You may kiss.

With this declaration of Elrond, Frodo and Cornflower exchanged their first kiss as husband and wife.

The crowd of friends cheered with a chorus of “Long live Frodo, son of Drogo!” ;“Long live Cornflower, daughter of Cotman!”; “Long live the groom!”; “Long live the bride!”

And in that moment, the myrtle tree blessed the newly wed couple with it’s flowers.

[kuno-chan]

Sides of the Moon - Ch.22, Persistance

Summary: Runaan and his team of assassins discovers that Rayla has defied him. Again. But when they find her, she’s bleeding out in the woods with precious cargo under her arm and face to face with the princes of Katolis running away from their own castle. They find that, upon this meeting, the die has already been cast.

Rating: T

--

Please consider reviewing on AO3

--

Callum could no longer leave without someone accompanying him. Someone who wasn’t just Rayla.

Runaan didn’t want Callum out of their sight. They didn’t have time for another near-death experience with the human prince, as it was so elegantly put. Callum felt a little bad about it; the trouble it caused, anyway, but it was worth it. Callisto seemed to be much better within the past day than he had since his injury.

He didn’t mind Andromeda and Callisto as company. Out of everyone, they were the easiest to get along with.

“Do we need any more than this?” he asked, looking in their bag. Herna had been kind enough to give them a little money to buy supplies.

“We don’t want to make our packs too heavy. We need to stay light on our feet. This is enough.” Callisto said.

“Besides, we can’t keep stealing,” Andromeda said. “It will bring too much attention to us. Especially when we need to leave quietly.”

Callum could agree with that. They passed the town square, a neat cobblestone plaza powdered with snow. They peered at a newly formed crowd, with the ruckus growing louder as Callum ventured closer. He knew he creeped too close when he felt Callisto’s firm grip on his shoulder.

“Look. Listen,” he said to Callum.

“... vile creatures from Xadia! They are here! They are here to invade your homes and take what is yours. And there’s a group of them. Right here. In this very town!” The spindly man’s face was good-natured in a way that Callum realized wasn’t his natural disposition. “ Who do you think killed the poor old man who lives in the mountain? We have to defend ourselves, our loved ones, our children! ”

Concern did not look good on Morgan when you knew what he was actually like. He’d dressed himself perfectly: a drab set of clothes that were neither too fancy nor too old. His hair was tousled just right. An everyday man. A concerned citizen of the town. His eyes were lit with kindness that Callum knew was fake even from here, but Callum had also seen Morgan in his real skin. Something closer to a monster than a human.

“We must hunt them down!” He raised his fist, his voice stirring with some emotion not becoming of him. “ We must make sure no one will ever again fall prey to these monsters in our town. Who’s with me?”

The crowd agreed.They bellowed their opinions and reached out to him, shaking his hand and giving him room to step down into the crowd. They helped him down.

They supported him.

A few good words, rousing the hearts of people who probably were less like Lady Eveline and more like people who would be angry on her behalf. People who did not know the pain Lady Eveline suffered from. Most people would never see an elf and, yet, they agreed to wipe them from existence. Or, at least from their little town.

He wondered if elves felt the same.

“We need to go,” he heard Andromeda hiss and felt Callisto pull him away from the crowd. Away from the square. Away from the anger that Morgan had so easily aroused in them. Callum still spied him from a distance. Morgan hadn’t seen them.

He walked like an average, concerned citizen. His hair was perfect. And if Callum had not seen the beast underneath, he might have believed him, too.

If only a little.

-:-:-:-

Andromeda gave them the news as soon as they got back, and everyone started packing in haste. Thankfully, there was not much. They gave their supplies priority over everything else, and they made quick work of getting their things together.

“Not a trace,” as Runaan ordered.

They would leave quickly and quietly, not saying anything to the innkeeper.

But it seemed like they didn’t have to.

Herna came into the room as Callisto, Skor and Ram were packing a small bag.

“Here,” she said urgently. “It’s not much, but it will last you from here to the east.”

They just stared at her. Callum would intervene if they pulled out any weapons, he decided, but they just watched her. She didn’t pay them any mind. “I don’t know exactly how far it is, but hopefully this will last you. If anybody comes asking about the lot of you, I will tell them you left and headed to the towns in the south. Make haste and you’ll have time before anyone is the wiser.”

Callisto and Ram exchanged looks.

Skor asked, “What are you doing?”

Herna didn’t pause in helping them pack the food. She didn’t speak for a moment. Skor continued to stare.

She took a deep breath. “It isn’t safe here for you anymore.”

Callisto frowned. “How did you know?”

“I’m a human, but I’m also old. I know when something doesn’t feel the same,” she said, smiling. “Your accents aren’t the easiest to hide, I presume.”

Quietly, Callisto took the bread she handed him and nodded. “Your kindness will always be appreciated.”

Herna smiled as they left the room, their packs on their backs. Runaan was at the door, watching, but said nothing. Skor stopped beside Herna and put a hand on her shoulder. “Be safe.”

Herna placed her hand over his. “And you. If we never meet again, I hope you find your peace. And your justice. Now, go.”

Skor squeezed her shoulder and left. Callum didn’t move right away, watching Herna for a moment.

“Callum.” He twisted to Runaan’s voice. “We’re leaving.”

Callum spared Herna a glance, then followed Runaan.

-:-:-:-

The streets were teeming with humans gossiping and searching for the elves invading their town right under their very noses. They weren’t as lethal as a trained group of assassins. Not on their own.

But Runaan wasn’t foolish enough to take the chance. He also wasn’t rash enough to think they could take on an entire town of humans, lethal or not.

He was more on edge about Anarr and Morgan than he liked. But Rayla had been too close to being on the other end of Anarr’s blade. Unnecessarily. It should not have happened.

Callum came to mind.

He was distinctly aware of the human prince trailing with Rayla near the back of their party.

It made him uneasy.

-:-:-:-

Callum tried not to look around too much. The first time he did, Rayla scolded him.

“We don’t know if Morgan and Anarr are watching us. We know Morgan was here, but we don’t know if he’s seen us,” she said. “Let’s not make it so obvious we’re trying to leave.”

… I can’t believe it was so easy.”

“For us?”

“No, for him. All he did was change his appearance, and attitude. He acted like he cared. And they believed him.”

“He’s done it before, probably,” she said, then paused. “What’s bothering you?”

Callum hunched his shoulders. “It’s just that... Lord Viren used to be someone I trusted. And everything’s different now.”

A frown tugged on her lips. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “I am, too.”

When her hand brushed against him, he returned the gesture.

Nobody noticed them leaving. With their packs full and new coats on, they trudged over a hill hardened with snow. Callum glanced back at it, but returned his attention toward their path. The rest of the team was farther up the slope than he and Rayla.

Rayla continued to watch the town.

He stopped for her. “You coming?” She didn’t answer him. “Rayla.”

“Wait,” she hushed him. “Do you hear that?”

He listened to whatever she was hearing. Nothing--

Wait.

The faintest high-pitched screams. He looked back at the town and saw a plume of smoke rising into the air. His heart dropped.

“Oh no,” she looked back at him.

“Do you think…?”

“It’s Morgan and Anarr. I know it’s them. It has to be them. Something’s wrong.”

Callum’s stomach clenched. “You don’t know that. Maybe something else happened. Rayla, you don’t need to--”

“Go ahead of me. I’ll catch up with you.”

“You can’t go by yourself. What if it is them? We just faced them yesterday, and they almost killed us. At least let me go with you.”

Rayla shook her head and unsheathed her swords. “We don’t have time and I can’t just leave while they’re wreaking havoc because of us. The egg is dying. Tell Runaan and the others I’ll catch up with you. I promise I’ll be careful. I just want to get their attention and then lose them. They’re looking for us, after all, now go--”

“Rayla.”

She didn’t stop to let him finish, turning back and running down the hill at a speed he knew he couldn’t match. Even so, he nearly went after her. After all, she would have done the same for him. She already had.

He would do that and more, but one thing he learned from their predicament yesterday was to stop doing things alone.

Callum ran up the hill, towards the group, his lungs burning by the time he reached them.

“Wait!” He panted, holding his chest. When they turned, Runaan was already searching for wherever Rayla had gone. He saw the plume of smoke. “It’s Morgan and Anarr. They’re attacking the town--”

Runaan sped past him, down the hill.

“I’m going with him.”

Callisto grabbed his shoulder. “No. This is between them. Our job is to get you two and the egg out of the human lands. We keep moving. They’ll catch up.”

Ezran shook his head. “We can’t just leave. They’re attacking the town. They’re hurting people...”

“And more people will get hurt if they see that Rayla went down to save a town of humans.” Callisto squeezed Callum’s shoulder. “They’ll be alright. Runaan will bring her back.”

Callum looked at the town again. His chest constricted as he turned back to their trail.

Ezran frowned, but did the same when Andromeda held out a hand to him. Bait turned green with nervousness. Callum agreed.

-:-:-:-

Rayla raced into town.

Screaming. Running. Scrambling.

People threatened to knock her over as she waded into the fray. She heard the beasts before she saw them and prayed nobody had touched them.

One of those blood monsters missed her at a crossroads as it crashed into a shop. A family ran out and Rayla watched as the creature fled and found another establishment to crash into.

It moved around the people in its way and chose a tavern to destroy.

She realized it wasn’t hurting anybody. The blood beast was just breaking things and causing a general panic.

Was it searching for something?

People were quickly vacating this part of town where the beast was rampant and Rayla knew before she even heard her voice.

“You took my invitation.”

Rayla twisted on her heel and tightened her grip on her swords.

“You can’t do this to a town of people, Anarr.”

Anarr didn’t smile this time. “I can. I will. And, for the record, Runaan will be a bit too busy to save you this time.”

“Leave him alone. It’s me you want, right?’

Anarr snorted. “Don’t worry, my sun and stars, I won’t kill him. I can’t. This entire thing is naught if I do that.”

Rayla shook her head this time. “Don’t you ever give up?”

This time, Anarr smiled. She hadn’t drawn her weapon or moved. The surrounding roads were vacant now, but the distant screaming and chaos echoed in the distance. “I was his best, you know. Runaan’s, I mean. I was his second. You know that, of course. Our relationship wasn’t like yours, but I think once upon a time he might have thought of me as a sister. No, Runaan’s relationship with you is much deeper. If he happens to get past my blood beasts on his own--” Rayla’s heart dropped into her stomach. “He might take my head on sight. For you, naturally, my sun and stars. Always for you.”

“And why do you always call me that?”

Anarr’s green eyes were piercing. “Because you are. Not mine, of course. Runaan’s. You are his sun and stars. The only living reminder he has of your parents. The only child he’ll likely ever raise with Ethari.”

Rayla said nothing. She didn’t know what to say.

Her blades twisted in her hands. Her side hurt.

“You look better. But if we fight now,” Anarr said. “You will lose. And you know it. Runaan would go home and never be the same.”

“You would let him live?”

“For a time. I want him to live with Ethari’s grief for a while before I deal with him.”

“... Runaan never meant to hurt you.”

Anarr lowered into a stance. “I don’t care.”

She was lightning as their blades clashed and sparked in the bitter cold.

-:-:-:-

The blood creatures attacked him all at once.

Thankfully, Runaan knew exactly what he was running into when he went after Rayla. He saw her, but lost her in the people running to and fro. Then, Anarr’s creatures descended on him.

He dodged and moved. They were vicious, but not unpredictable. The size of their “bodies” forced them to make fast, sweeping movements that required some anticipation before their attacks.

He’d managed to slice one of them similar to the way Callum had back on the icy lake. Now, there were two.

Two that weren’t exactly taking turns going after him. He used the corners to evade them at first, using their size against them as they swung around the corner.

He had a feeling they were here just for him. Rayla’s trap was obvious, but she’d gone anyway. For these humans. For people who would just as soon execute her.

Perhaps Ethari was right.

She’d proven herself. He trusted Rayla, but a part of him didn’t. That part of him came from a deeper place he tried to put aside during missions.

But he would be damned if he let Anarr kill her just to get to him.

Runaan climbed the roofs and watched as those things searched for him. So, they couldn’t sense him. He left them to their destruction.

-:-:-:-

Rayla couldn’t keep this up. She was tiring too fast and her side was getting agitated.

Anarr didn’t have to try as hard, but she was definitely aggressive. She shoved Rayla into a wall and the only thing that saved her from a blade to the head was to push Anarr away. They were still in the street, with the snow crunching under their feet.

Their blades clashed; their hearts pounded. Anarr was calculated and wild at the same time. Her swings were personal, her intentions fueled by fire.

Anarr played the long game, and she played it wildly.

“You were really going to jump, weren’t you?” Anarr asked, panting. They circled each other. “With that human? You trust him that much?”

“With my life.”

“A mistake. Mark my words, Rayla. One day, he will break your heart.”

Rayla rolled her eyes. “Right. I’ll be sure to take your advice.”

They met again in the middle, their swords sparking. This time, Rayla buckled, and Anarr punched her in the face.

“You’re mine.”

“Anarr.”

Runaan was already aiming at her. Rayla knew before she even looked up.

Anarr turned and smiled. “Go ahead. Shoot me. You can try, anyway. I’d love for you to miss and hit poor Rayla.”

Runaan kept the arrow on her, but he didn’t dare release it. Not when Anarr could just move and Rayla might just get an arrow in the chest.

“Runaan, I love how you just keep walking into my messes. But I suppose you have no choice if your protégé here keeps running into them.”

“Stop talking as if you’re not getting tired. I know having three of those things is too much for you.”

“Does it matter?”

“What’s the point of all this? You make traps and don’t come through with them when I know you can. You’ve had every chance. You never used to enjoy playing with your food before you ate it.”

“That was before. This is now.”

“I know what I did, but you hanging onto the past is your own fault.”

She growled. “What do you know? You’ve been living with the love of your life! You married him! You raised her with him. But you definitely made certain that I paid for my mistake.”

“Rayla has nothing to do with this.”

“She will have everything to do with this when I make you clean up her blood!”

Rayla lunged at her. “You talk too much!”

The two of them wrestled on the ground and Rayla picked up one of her swords, swiping at Anarr. She could see Runaan coming to her out of the corner of her eye, but Anarr kicked Rayla off and right into Runaan.

“You know what I think, my sun and stars?” Anarr panted, raising something in her hand. “I think I’ll leave you to deal with these humans.”

Humans.

With the blood beasts gone, people were starting to come back to the streets.

And Rayla’s amulet was in Anarr’s hand.

Rayla touched her neck, her chest. Gone. She looked up and Anarr was already leaving, disappearing as the humans began to shout.

“It’s an elf!”

“They must both be elves!”

“They brought those evil things here!”

Rayla shook her head. “No, it’s not like that! Another elf was trying to hurt you and--”

Runaan grabbed her and ran down an alleyway. He didn’t listen to her protests as they went through twists and turns, the humans right behind them. They found a ladder, and he urged her up, watching as the humans went looking for them.

“Runaan, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t leave them like that.”

“You were reckless. You would have died.”

“I had it under control.”

“You walked right into a trap, and what’s worse is that you knew you did. You are not these humans’ hero. They have no love for you.”

“I know that. But they just don’t understand. Runaan, Anarr was destroying their town.” Rayla put her swords away as they stood. “I’m not trying to be their hero, but--”

He cut her off. “They are a mob. And you cannot reason with a mob. Nothing you said would have made a difference. Anarr did her job. Now, every human town from here on out will be looking for us. Any group of obvious strangers will become immediately suspicious.”

Rayla paused. She… hadn’t thought of that.

Of course, she hadn’t.

She rubbed her arm and said nothing. There was nothing to say and sorry wouldn’t fix how she made their mission more difficult, yet again.

There was a silence between them. Runaan let it linger.

Finally, he stood up and walked to the edge of the rooftop.

“Let’s go. We need to leave.”

She followed with nothing left to say.

--

Whew! Sorry this chapter took so long! I'm sick and in the last weeks of this quarter for school on top of the Rayllum zine and other obligations to projects! You'll want to keep an ear out for the Rayllum zine on Twitter and Tumblr! It'll have some stuff pertaining to this fic! And if you're a fan, trust me on this, you'll want to tune in on the info!

But enough of that tease, I know this is shorter and another transition, but the next arc is going to be a big deal so I wanted to ease us into it. As always, I love the reviews you guys leave. They truly keep me motivated and keep me writing. Thank you for reading! Tune in for next chapter!

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[intomyshadow]

Meet Mari

Word count: 1600 (3 to 13 minutes) | Rating: T | Story: Into My Shadow

Note: Fantasy races (common and original), magic

Read Dira’s character introduction

Read Noyo’s character introduction

The Blossoming of Year 185: Dawn’s Strike Era

The streets of Garres were like veins, carrying goods and people wherever they needed to go in the city. Sometimes, to places they’d rather not be. Reliable and chaotic, the contradictory way life worked anywhere else. It made the cobblestone streets easy to map in her mind, especially with practice. Anyone could tell the sunbaked almshouse walls from the lofty towers of the governmental district, but only a local could get from one to the other without being late or lost.

Exactly why living in one place for years wasn’t so bad.

Mari knew the routes and schedules of most carriages there. Not to mention basically everyone who kept the city’s blood pumping. Not that any of them really saw her. She was known for her ties to the Union. Only the half-elf who ran their errands and did their chores. Beyond that, she was no more than one of the strangers outside. And it was incredible, the things people let you see and hear when you were invisible.

But if there was one skill she had mastered, it had to be knowing when to wait for the right moment.

The morning mail coach came soaring down the road, and everyone knew they had the run of the road. Stopping one meant paying a fine—even if you did it by mistake. Mari was in a hurry too, poised to hop across the street on the raised steppingstones the moment it went by. She was close enough to feel it rush past, and a small splash from puddles of yesterday’s rain hit her boots. Nothing that wouldn’t dry. Especially if she ran, and she always did.

Her boots barely tapped against each roughly circular stone that kept people above the water, waste, and manure, then she was on the other side. The poor ladies and gentlemen serving the country from its capital couldn’t do that in their fine heeled shoes and fluffy wigs. Their jobs seemed important with all the shouting, but pretty stifling. So long as she did hers to avoid getting yelled at herself, it didn’t matter.

Darting around frantic storeroom maids in the center of the market square, Mari made her way to the weapons and armor marketplace. The heavy smell of molten metal and coal from smithies burned her nostrils before she even saw the magic shops. All the stores there were more like workshops where you could buy goods, not like the tents and stalls of most other places. Maybe the merchants of magical wares didn’t quite belong there, but there they were. No one really wanted to see them while they picked out a new suit before the festival season or resupplied on early summer vegetables and wines.

Pulling the empty satchel up her shoulder, Mari kept her eyes up and stuck close to the wall. The only people around the weapons shops were assistants to the Guard Captain, hunters, and mercenaries. They covered the whole nation’s people: dwarves, elves, people with mixed descent like her, and even the lone chiali now and again. None of them were gifted with patience for anything that didn’t apply to their work, or none that Mari knew. All she had to be was fast and out of their way. She had to move quickly anyway since it would be hot and muggy soon, and Mari wouldn’t be up to as much running.

She ducked into the open rounded doorway of the mages’ goods shop soon enough. Could have done it with her eyes closed, but it was better that she didn’t.

“Hm?” The shopkeep frowned over the counter, glaring down at her from his stool. That sternness was just part of his expression, she learned that shortly after they first met years ago. He was framed by jars of all kinds of magical goods, some open and easy to reach and others sealed and locked on the top shelves behind the front counter. His thick, black moustache with flecks of grey twitched with his ‘tsk’. Fat fingers tied off the thin rope around some gathered stems of faintly glowing thistles that she didn’t recognize. Not yet. The dwarf was no mage, but he knew more than she’d ever forget about magic in the wild—and he liked to remind anyone who came in of that. “Just you, is it?”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod, dropping the rolled parchment on the counter. The Union’s crest was emblazoned on the outside beside the ribbon holding it closed—a precaution for all their parchment in case something important was lost, supposedly. “Got the whole Union order here.”

He kept that surprising delicate touch from the flowers when he swept up the scroll, pulling the ribbon loose to unroll it. From habit, he muttered it out loud as his dull blue eyes moved down the list.

That week’s resupply trip called for more of what Mari recognized. No Union storeroom run was complete without basic healing herbs, but this one included various roots and powders to carve into protective sigils on armor and shields. Plus some fake-sounding items like will-‘o-the-wisp dust. Mari read about them in the Union’s in-house library when most people were asleep, and she doubted they gave off anything like dust. If finding your way back to your original spot after getting tricked by a will-‘o-the-wisp only meant following a dust trail, why did people stay lost?

But if the Union mages asked for it, it had to be real. Maybe it wasn’t literal. Like sprigs of baby’s breath.

“The glass is new,” she interrupted his mumbling and pointed to the windows. Usually, just fancy clothes and jewelry stores had glass windows, but they had gotten more common in other shops with decent sales. Having the Union buying through him most of the time would do that for his profits. She heard him stomping down the ladder from his stool while she leaned to check for outside hinges through the window. “Kept the shutters. Smart.”

“Mmhm. Wait here.”

Wait, he said, like it ever took him long. Mari was barely taller than him when she did her first supply run for the Union, and she was amazed at how quickly he measured and packaged everything. While he worked, she put her satchel up on the counter and flipped it open for him just in time for him to nestle the first bag of herbs in.

“Walk gently,” he ordered as he pat down a box of packed powder.

“Understood.”

“Not how you usually dart around here.” He pierced her with another glare, tossing the tired leather flap over her bag to close it.

“Yes, sir.”

“I mean it.” Punctuating that with a calloused fingertip pointed at her, he moved the bag over to her open hands at the counter’s edge.

“I said yes,” she repeated with an uneasy grimace, not sure what else he wanted. Mari raised the shoulder strap over her head for the steadier carrying it obviously needed.

“And this.” Less gently, he brought a package up onto the smooth wooden countertop and pushed it over to her. The wrapping job wasn’t like his usual. No practical plain paper held in place with twine, but deep slate blue paper with thick silver ribbon adorning it. The contents were clearly a book. Mari softened her grimace but didn’t reach for it. In all the years she knew him, he didn’t adorn anything. If someone wanted to get a gift to a member of the Mages’ Union, they wouldn’t go through him and definitely not her. Even a surprise gift would be better off handled by actual delivery people.

“What’s this?”

“For you.” Glancing back down to it and again to him, Mari closed her hand around the strap over her chest. This just got more and more confusing. Who would give her something? Mari didn’t talk to anyone she didn’t have to, so there was no one to send her an unexpected present.

“What for?”

“A gift,” he observed, being his usual blunt self, but without any of the clarity that usually came with it. He must have read something in her glance at the present because he muttered something before offering something she could hear. “If you’ve got your mind set on working at that place ‘til you’re grey, be serious about educating yourself. Before you get killed.”

“Alright,” she asked, as bewildered as ever. No one got a nice shop with glass windows and shutters because they gave out gifts to the spry little stray running tasks for the Union. Still, she picked up the package. It was heavier than she guessed it would be… Probably two books, then. Trading the grimace for a level stare, Mari thanked the stars she was talking to someone who didn’t waste words. “But what’s that to you?”

The long hairs of his moustache ruffled in his scoff as he settled back up onto his stool. Leaning over the counter, he almost looked like he was smirking. “You have a birthday, don’t you?”

“Suppose I do.” Giving him a shrug, she continued her answer. “Not sure when it is, though.”

“In that case, doesn’t matter when you get a present.” Nodding to the book, he scooched back into his seat and reached for another bundle of glowing thistle. “There’s your gift.”

“From?” He quirked an eyebrow, clearly at his limit for questions. She should have figured it was straight from him anyway. There weren’t many people who remembered Mari and her interest in magic. Add in apparently having a reason to present her with a new book… Well, that didn’t leave a lot of choices. “Right. Thanks.”

“Mmhm. Don’t die.”

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[idkhyuck]

21 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS WITH NCT

DAY2: DOYOUNG AU FT DREAM AS KIDS.

Summary: Music Teacher Mr. Doyoung brings his music students to take a picture with Santa. 

A/N This is my first time writing for Doyoung and i really actually like this one and kind of want to continue it so feed back is really appreciated. 

I sighed as a I walked into the mall for my daily misery, only two more days of this hellhole and I’d be out of here for the year. I don’t know why I thought working as an elf would be a good idea with how much I hated people. I didn’t necessarily hate Christmas, but it was the people that got me. Everyone running about with their selfish needs at hand. Dropping off kids to take pictures with Santa as they went out did whatever they wanted. I guess having a Day care attached to a picture with Santa station was convenient.

I put on my ears and hat and looked at the line that was growing already. I took a deep breath and walked out with a smile on my face. I greeted the kids and walked the parents through the registration process and started leading kids to Santa took pictures and then into the daycare where other elves had the wonderful job of entertaining these kids. The day kind of flew by I was on auto pilot the line was getting less and less each time I went out. I guess I should be grateful I wasn’t a daycare elf, they had it rough. I walked out of the workshop back to my spot at the beginning of the line up and was met with an incredibly handsome guy. He smiled at me with his dimples and soft eyes.

“hey.”

“Hi!’ I said taken aback but then I noticed the kids at his side. “You guys here to take pictures with Santa?” I asked the kids who were too busy bickering with each other to notice there were next in line.

“Chenle, Jisung.” He said Sternly “wait. Where’s the rest?” He asked turning and looking “BOYS!” he yelled then 4 other slightly older boys came running from behind the workshop set we had set up they all couldn’t have been more than 6-7. Were all these kids his? He didn’t look much older than me, He must have seen the question on my face because he then said

“They’re my music students.” He said laughing his cute bunny teeth showing slightly. “I wanted to get a picture with all of them, if possible.” He said smiling at me shyly.

“You as well?” I asked hoping the relief of not having to take care of them all by myself wasn’t showing my face. He nodded then I let them in they were the last ones in line. I looked at the workshop elves parents were now coming back for their kids the mall would close soon and Santa’s workshop was closing shop for the day.

“OW!”

“Renjun please stop stepping on Jeno’s toes.” The tall guy said as he worked at the two, he had called Chenle and Jisung, they were taking off their coats and getting stuck these two couldn’t be older than 5. They were kind of cute, I wondered if they were related in anyway.

“let’s go into to see Santa!” I said kneeling and helping the one boy who had his toes stepped on, out of his jacket he was standing there looking sniffly, I offered my hand and he took it. Another boy about the same height as Jeno reached up grabbing my other hand, He smiled shyly at me then took his hand back.  I led them into the workshop, I could hear the other boys follow. “Santa!” I said happily “These little guys came to see you with their music class.” The boys suddenly got shy as Santa ho-ho-ho’ed his hello. Santa worked his magic on each of the young boys as they all gathered around to get their turn talking to him. My manager closing the shop and the entrance for the night.

“this is our teacher Mr.Doyoung. You should bring him a girlfriend for Christmas.” The little boy I learned to be named Haechan said as he sat on the spot beside Jeno on the Santa bench. Mr.Doyoung and I working at getting  the boys sitting nicely and all focused on the camera.

“Everyone who smiles nicely for the camera gets a candy cane.” I said walking around to the photo station and working really fast to get the pictures. I wasn’t long before all the boys were sitting there rubbing at their eyes from the flash. “good!” I said My manager came over “take the boys into the workshop, I’ll help their teacher with the photo packages.” He said. I nodded and grabbed the candy cane bowl. “Say thank you to Santa and follow me.” I said excitedly “I’ll show you the secret workshop.” I said watching as the boys all offered Santa a hug and a bow and came to me. I opened the door to the workshop and lit it up, the tables all cleaned for the night. “Pick a spot to sit down and I’ll give you your candy canes.” I said as the boys ran towards the table all trying to sit as nice as they could. They were such little sweethearts.

“for you.” I said giving to Renjun and Haechan.  They both thanked me I moved onto Jeno, and I offered one to the little boy who took my hand earlier, but he got shy again and hid his face from me.

“Jaemin’s a little shy.” Jeno said taking the candy cane for him

“quit being a baby Jaemin!” Renjun yelled with his candy cane in his mouth. “She’s a nice lady, you don’t need to be scared of her.” He added matter of factly when I shot him a look

“Jaemin how about I get you something to colour?” I said sitting at the table beside him, he turned to look at me finally and nodded

“but first.” I said grabbing two candy canes “Chenle and Jisung need their Candy canes.” I said reaching across to give the two younger boys their candy canes. They grabbed them happily.

“Say thank you.” Jeno said to the two of them. The one named Chenle offered me a happy thank you while Jisung shyly said thank you and then hid his face with his sleeves. These kids were the most adorable kids I’ve seen come in here. I walked over to the colouring stations and grabbed some crayons and colour sheets for them, I made sure they were all the same, so they didn’t argue.

“The elf lady should be Mr.Doyoung’s girlfriend.” I heard one of them say quietly as commotion built behind me, I was almost scared to turn around.

“Mr.Doyoung would have to move to the northpole though!” another said worried

“We just started learning jingle bells! HE CAN’T MOVE TO THE NORTHPOLE!” I turned to see them all running to sit down, I pretended I didn’t hear them.

“Let’s colour.” I said sitting down beside Chenle and Jisung. I handed out the crayons and the papers, the boys started colouring talking amongst each other. I wondered how much longer Mr. Doyoung would be, I saw him still out there talking to my manager as he poked the buttons on the laptop. His features were quite soft and beautiful. He glanced my way and I looked away

“What’s you’re name elf lady?” Haechan asked as he coloured the star on top of the Christmas tree on his page.

“My name is Y/n.” I said

“y/n” I heard softly beside me, I turned to see jisung holding a broken crayon looking teary already

“oh no. did we break our crayon? “I asked him he nodded “it’s okay.” I said “We’re in Santa’s workshop. He makes tons of crayons.” I said, “come with me.” I said getting up offering my hand to him. I led him over to the crayons station and let him pick out a few from the special boxes we had for sale. He excitedly ran back to his spot to show off his new crayons. I watched from behind as the kids worked away at their colouring. Mr. Doyoung walked into the room a handful of picture packages in his hands. The kids all immediately calling him over to look at their drawings.

“Here I’ll take those for now.” I said reaching for the picture packages our hands touched my heart stopped but the moment was all too fleeting as my manager walked in and waved me over

“The kid’s parents are coming to get them from here. You’ll lock up right? The poor guy walked through the mall with all of them and stood in line. It’s the least we could do.” He said as Santa was gathering his things to leave for the night

“yeah.” I nodded “I’ll take care of it.”

“I know the daycare isn’t your area. But you’re a saint with those kids.” He said, “I’ll give you a small bonus for this.” He said patting me on the shoulder “make sure to grab all their stuff from the coat room and lock this door.” He said as he walked over and started hauling away the camera and picture supplies for the night. I went over to the coat room and grabbed all the jackets. I walked back into the room to see Mr.Doyoung sitting at the table a worksheet in front of him and crayon in hand, stickers all over his shirt. he looked up and blushed

“ah, Jisung wanted me to colour with him. I hope you don’t mind, and they found stickers.” He said

“nah you’re good.” I said placing the coats on the empty side of the table and went to sit in the empty spot beside Jeno.

“Y/N the elf lady is so nice.” He said matter of factly “don’t you think Mr.Doyoung?” He asked, I looked over and saw Mr.Doyoung blush

“She’s very kind to us.” Mr.Doyoung said, it was my turn to blush “You make sure you thank her when we leave here.” He said “your parents are on their way. Let’s hurry up and colour these so you can give it to them when they get here.” I sat there talking and helping the kids. Chenle came over to me and asked me to open his candy cane before he left with his mom. Jaemin gave me a big hug before he left. The kids slowly got picked up and it was just Mr.Doyoung and I

“I’ll help you clean.” He said getting up and gathering crayons

“oh no.” I started

“I insist. You’re amazing for staying here with us. Your manager is the seriously best for letting us stay.” He said smiling at me

“Thanks.” I said “Mr.Doyoung.”

“ah.” He said blushing “just Doyoung.” He said picking up plastic wrappers off the floor, I nodded

“Music teacher.” I said, “here in the mall?” I asked

‘yeah, I have a tiny corner by the food court. I started to make some extra money while I finished school” he said “these kids are great. The older boys have been with me since they were just young.” He said, “my first students.” He smiled fondly “they’ve grown so much as little musicians” he laughed

“So, you’re a musician?” I asked as we gathered up some of the left-over stickers the boys had gotten into.

“Music major.” He said, “I do cover shows every now and then.” He said, “write some songs here and there.” He said, “music teacher, was something I never imagined myself doing.” He laughed “but I love it.” He added “The kids get a creative outlet and some fun every week. And I get to help them learn and grow and explore their interest in music.” He said “Haechan is going to be a star one day. That kids got a voice on him.” He laughed, I recalled how loud he was when we were colouring

‘no kidding.” I said “what about Jaemin. He’s the shy one, right?” I asked

“he’s learning.” Doyoung said “He joined because Jeno Joined. They’re best friends. Jaemin really comes out of his shell when he’s in class.” He said, “he’s grown a lot since he’s joined.”

“you really love these kids.” I said

“how can you not?” he said “I’ve been teaching them for three years now, I want to leave a positive impact on them. Maybe one day when they’re little idols they’ll think back to how Mr.Doyoung was their first music teacher.” He laughed

“Well Mr.Doyoung, I think you deserve a candy cane.” I said offering him the bowl. He blushed and took one

“Would Elf lady y/n like to go for coffee sometime?” He asked shyly

“Did Renjun tell you to say that?” I asked as he blushed

“He might have suggested that the Elf lady was really pretty.” He said

“Does Mr.Doyoung think the elf lady is pretty?” I asked blushing

“how about I tell her over a coffee?” he asked picking up his jacket and walking towards the door

“deal.” I said following him with my keys

[jchb32273]

Fictober 2019 - Day 5

Fanfiction - Dragon Age AO3 Link

Still a day late... hope to catch up soon!! Nevertheless, hope you enjoy...

I Might Just Have To Kiss You

~~~~~

Alistair stood at the entrance to the large gymnasium on campus. There was a large fundraiser and donation going on to help the poor of Denerim for the holiday season. Canned and boxed goods, blankets, warm clothing… they were all being sorted and organized by people.

He saw Bull carrying some of the heavier boxes, Dorian by his side as usual. Fenris, Morrigan, Anders, Isabela, and Hawke were all helping to sort clothing for male, female, and child sizes. There were a few other people he knew, Dagna and Sandal, two young dwarves, were folding blankets. At the far end of the gym, Leliana and dorm mother Wynne were both collecting money.

Behind them, clipboard in hand and organizing the whole affair… was Kylara.

Alistair couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Like a thirsty man in a desert, he gazed at her as though she were an oasis filled with fresh water. It had been three weeks since the dinner party at Maric’s and she still had not called or texted him.

I know I said I’d give her time, but this complete radio silence is driving me crazy. He watched her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pushed her glasses up with her index finger. Such simple gestures, but they gave him a funny ache in his chest. What is it about her? Why can I not stop thinking about her?

He shifted the large box that he’d been resting on one hip. Guess I should drop off my donations and maybe see if she will be willing to talk to me. No time like the present. He moved the box so that it was now supported by both of his hands and headed into the gym. He approached all three women.

“Afternoon, ladies,” he gave a smile, but when Kylara didn’t look up, it faded a bit. “I, um… have a donation to offer.” Alistair set the box on the ground.

Leliana walked up to him. “Oh, thank you, Alistair.” He could hear her putting emphasis on his name, but Kylara continued to stare at her clipboard. He saw Leli sigh. She then looked through the box. “Why, these clothes look brand new! Are you sure you want to donate these?”

“Yes. I don’t need them. They will better serve those who go without in this cold weather.” He then pulled out his wallet and handed several large bills to Wynne. “Here, I hope this helps as well.”

Wynne counted the amount and gasped. “Well, this is most generous of you, young man. This will benefit many needy people. Thank you very much!”

Alistair continued to stand there in silence, staring at Kylara. Finally, he took those few steps towards her. “Kylara?” He saw her hands tighten on the clipboard. “Do you have a moment?”

“Yes, she does,” Leliana said, taking matters into her own hands. She snapped the clipboard out of my hands. “You’ve been working since early morning. Take a break already.” She then shoved me towards Alistair.

I immediately stumbled and fell forward. Alistair quickly caught me. Then he saw what had caused me to trip. Someone had tied my shoelaces together. Anger bubbled under the surface as he knelt down and carefully began to undo the knots.

“Sera!” Leliana bellowed. An elf with short-cropped hair giggled like mad as she ran out of the gym. “That girl is such a troublemaker!” Leli sighed and asked, “Kylara? Are you all right? I’m sorry, I didn’t notice she’d done that.”

“I’m fine,” I grumbled. “I’m used to this by now.”

Alistair had finished undoing the knots and had retied the laces of my sneakers properly. “But you shouldn’t have to be used to it,” he said. “They shouldn’t treat you this way, especially when you work so hard!”

I looked up at Alistair, my eyes shiny with unshed tears. “What do you want, Alistair? I have a lot of work to do…”

“Please, take a walk with me?” Alistair asked quietly.

“Oh, all right.”

I let him lead me to the back of the gym, where there were several storage closets, small offices, and the entrances to the locker rooms. There, in the dark hallway, he stopped. “I know I said I’d wait for you to call or text me, Kylara, but… three weeks and I hear nothing from you. It’s been driving me crazy.”

“Why?” I murmured. “Is it because I still have your jacket? I have it in the ‘Not To Donate’ box by Wynne…”

“My… oh. No, it isn’t because of that.” He took a deep breath and then said, “It is because I… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I just stared at him. “Why?” I asked again. “What is so special about me?! I am persona non grata here! I am the butt of everyone’s jokes! They keep telling me I am nothing but a waste of space…”

“And yet here you are, single-handedly organizing this fund-raiser and collection drive for the poor! To me, that speaks of drive, dedication, determination.”

“No one will remember it was me who did all of this. They’ll likely give all the credit to Leliana. She was out there verbally announcing it on the school radio station. I was just the quiet nerd in the background with a clipboard in my hand…”

“Kylara, why do you let them drag you down like this? You know it was you who did all of this. You should have pride in that accomplishment! You are a top student here! I have heard teachers speak very highly of you here on campus. Even my professors are hoping to get you in their classes once you advance! That speaks volumes about the kind of person you really are! You have friends who care too. Cullen, Leliana… even my bandmates all speak highly of you now. It took them a while to warm up to you, yes… but once they got to know you…”

He took a deep breath and then said, “Then there is me. I know there is something special about you… and I… I have come to care for you. A great deal, in fact. You are my friend, but lately… lately, I have started thinking that maybe I want a little more than just friendship…”

Once again, Zevran’s warning popped into my mind and I shivered. Maybe it was because Maric didn’t approve of me… and he used Zevran to try and scare me away? “B-but what about your… father? I know he doesn’t appr- ”

Alistair’s eyes glinted. “I don’t care what he thinks. He may be half of the biological contribution that gave me life, but he didn’t raise me. I was one who took care of myself all of those years… so as far as I am concerned, he doesn’t get any say about this part of my life.”

“But…”

“But nothing. It hurts me to hear you talk down about yourself. I want you to give serious thought about giving me a chance to prove…” he trailed off and briefly looked behind me.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“Mistletoe. There, on the door behind you.” I glanced behind me and saw he spoke true. There was a sprig attached to the office door I’d been leaning against. My hair must have been covering it before. Alistair gave me a gentle smile and murmured, “I’ll take that as a sign. I might just have to kiss you now…” He slowly lowered his face down to mine.

I kept thinking that I should move; that I shouldn’t encourage this… but instead, my eyes closed and I waited.

It seemed to take an eternity, but then I felt his lips brush against mine in a feather-light kiss. I felt him pull away and at first, was a little disappointed... but then his lips came back, this time pressing in a bit firmer. Now I gasped a tiny bit and my lips parted, giving him even more access. He took his time, each caress of his mouth against mine making my breath hitch and my heart pound. Never before had anything affected me so profoundly.

After what seemed an eternity, yet was probably no more than a few minutes, he slowly pulled away from me. I felt slightly dizzy and could hardly focus my eyes on his face. He seemed to be feeling something similar because I saw him swallow a couple of times, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Finally, he whispered, “I… hope that wasn’t too soon. Maker’s Breath, but that was… amazing. You are amazing, Kylara.” He brushed his lips against mine one more time. “Now I know I want more… and I hope you will be willing to give us a try.” He took a step back and gently touched the side of my face. “You deserve it.”

We headed back to the main part of the gymnasium. Alistair gave my hand a quick squeeze and quietly said to me, “I have to get going now, but I hope I might hear from you later.” He then reached down and took his tux jacket out of the box I had spoken of.

“Thank you again for your generous donations, young man,” Wynne said.

Alistair nodded. “You are very welcome.” Then he left the gym.

Back in his car, he sat behind the wheel thinking about the soft kiss he’d just shared with Kylara. Heat bloomed in his cheeks and a grin spread on his face. Just then a scent wafted up to his nose. Roses and vanilla. He picked up his tux jacked and sniffed again. It smelled like her. His smile grew even wider.

Just then his phone chirped, indicating a text message. He carefully put his jacket down and got his phone out of his jeans pocket.

It was one word, but it made his heart thump in his chest.

Yes.

[laurelsofhighever]

The Falcon and the Rose - Extra

An addition to Chapter 35

Also on AO3

The Clayne, by nature, were not a sentimental people. A life spent clinging to the edge of the sea, even one that prospered, suffered from its whims, from its storms and its swells and the monsters that haunted its depths. It was for the priestesses to worry about the dead. And yet, age brought a perspective afforded to few, a longer focus for the hurts of the world and their permanence. Memories could be uncovered and examined, like fine jewels taken from a velvet box, turned into the light and reflected upon until the shine became too painful to bear.

Lileas Nic Brianag Mac Eanraig sat before her polished silver mirror with her back straight, carefully removing the trappings of her station as Clan-Chief. First, the twisted golden torc that had been passed from matriarch to matriarch down the ages, heavy enough that its weight drew a sigh when it lifted from her neck. Then, the enamelled golden brooch her husband had smithed to clasp the cloak her mother had woven for her wedding. Finally, when that sweep of embroidered cloth was folded into its cherrywood box, she reached up to pluck the pins from her hair and tease out each individual lock with careful fingers. When she had been a sword-maiden, still earning her war braids at the helm of the Frostleaf, the strands had gleamed like polished charcoal, a silk banner in the wind, instead of the ash-white fall that tumbled across her shoulders now. Her mind wandered from the image, and from the work of her fingers that had repeated many times before, and she allowed herself to be wistful.

“Do you remember when she first brought the lad to the landing?” she asked her husband, who stood contemplative by the window of their chamber.

Fearchar chuckled, in the rich, soft way he allowed only when they were alone. “I remember the look on his face. Never seen a man so jittery – and as well he might, thinking a few battle scars would make him good enough for our Eleanor.”

“They thought we didn’t notice them sneaking into one another’s rooms,” she recalled, with a fond shake of her head.

“Or up to the heath, or to the pantry – or the loft above the smithy.”

“They weren’t that bad.”

“Maybe they weren’t,” he conceded, then grinned. “But we were.”

“Must you?” she griped. Of her numerous glares, the one her reflection levelled at him now held just a shade too much humour for him to take it seriously, and his smile widened.

“Still are, for all my poor bones ache. ‘Thats enough,’ the healers all say, but I tell them my lady is insatiable, it’s no sooner out of sight than – ow!” He pouted and rubbed his arm where she had hit it with her heavy silver hair-comb.

On another night, the confrontation might have sparked her to cross the room and kiss him, but the purse of her lips lost its merriment and drooped down at the corners, and she slid her gaze back to the mirror.

“They’d be proud of her,” she said.

Fearchar made not a noise as he picked up the comb from where it had fallen and came close to stand at his wife’s back. She closed her eyes as he kissed the top of her head, but the wound remained deep in her chest, the cramp of loss unassailable, but at least shared. She leaned gratefully against the hand pressed into her shoulder.

“And what do you make of that young prince following her about like a stray puppy?” he asked.

“For a start, I’m rather jealous,” she teased. “He’s quite a handsome thing.”

“Oi!”

“You’re lucky he has no eyes for me.”

“Enough, woman, leave my poor heart be.”

She chuckled and squeezed his fingers, and nodded. “He’s bold,” she allowed. “Bolder than he thinks, and no doubt she’ll bring it out in him.”

“Aye,” her husband agreed. “He’ll have to be, or he’ll never reef her – you Mac Eanraig are all the same.”

“He cares for her deeply, and she for him.”

“More than she realises, I’ll wager.”

With a sigh, Lileas rose from her seat and crossed to the bed, suddenly cold, and reached for the sheepskin throw to wrap her shoulders against the chill before taking her husband’s place at the window, so the view over the hold might steady the waver of her thoughts.

“I don’t want her to lose him, Fearchar,” she warned. “And even less I want my only daughter’s murder to go unavenged. What will we do if he fails?”

In anyone else, the question might have looked like despair, but Lady of Dunedyn had stared down dragons in her time, and had never been cowed by anything. From across the room, her husband read the challenge the moonlight gilded in the set of her jaw. Together, the pair of them had dragged the Clayne out of obscurity, had formed alliances to make trade flow, settled feuds so the people would flourish, and where their enemies would not capitulate, had broken over them like a storm surge across a beach. What was this but one more test of strength?

“We will offer what comfort we can,” he said slowly. “And then, if we must, we’ll have the gods set against us as well as the rest of the clans, but we’ll see that bastard Howe brought to ruin.” He nodded, almost to himself, and joined her at the window. The sheepskin had slid from her shoulder, so he tucked it up more snugly about her neck.

“Stout heart,” he told her. “We’re not there yet. You never know, the lad might still prevail. He’s strong, and has a fair head on his shoulders, and you’d be amazed what a young man might do to make an impression on a bonnie lass.”

“If he were a coward I wouldn’t let him have her at all,” she pointed out.

“If he were a coward, I doubt she’d pay him half a mind.”

They shared a brief smile at the truth of that, standing together with the ease of long familiarity, as close as two people could be while still standing on their own feet. Lileas folded herself against her husband’s cheek, his mouth tilted just so to press an almost-kiss to the corner of her eye. Her eyes closed. Nightjars trilled from their nests on the heath. For a moment, she let herself wallow in the comfort, but the hour was late, and a day’s hardships lay ahead.

“Come to bed soon,” she said as she stepped away. “Or my toes will freeze.”

“That’s what I’m useful for, eh?” he teased.

“You shed less than the dogs.”

With a quiet, good-natured hmph he dropped his wife’s hand and let her go. The world beyond the chamber window slumbered, still except for where gusts of wind bent the grass and rattled the shell-bead chimes hanging from the eaves. Clouds roiled in the sky above, a shifting cloak that only broke here and there just enough for their rimed edges to reveal the passage of the moons above. The darkness was fitting; Vints on the water, traitors on land, and the ice in Rosslyn’s eyes, so like the Seawolf’s, as she’d been denied only that morning at the trial.

All will be as the Lady wills it.

Sighing, he turned from his contemplation, but movement caught at the corner of his eye and drew him back. The incongruent form, furtive through the shadows, moved towards the guesthouse with the lithe gait of a cat, careful to keep to the edges of the terrace, and only revealed itself when its path forced it into the lights still burning by the main door. It was the elf who had spoken in the trial. Tabris. She clutched something in her hands – there was a dull gleam of metal as she shifted it to open the door – and when she disappeared on whatever secret errand had brought her so far from the quay, she didn’t remerge. The Storm Giant frowned, but did not call the guards, and with a final drum of his fingers on the stone sill, retreated from his vigil to rest himself for the morning.

[thomasstalsworth]

A Birthday Evening Surprise

“Naw -- naw, naw … like, blue. You know, not like th’blue y’got right there -- blue-blue. Blue.”

It was difficult to see the gnomish tailor beneath the many, many -- many -- swatches of color he was holding. Indeed, the passing observer could be forgiven for wondering just how many hands the gnome had. Four .. seven? There were swatches of cloth of all color, texture, and pattern. They were all varying states of ‘blue’, or at least some variation of ‘aquatic’. None, however, appeared to satisfy the suntanned man on the other end of the counter.

“Naw … see -- it’s gotta be blue. Like, blue.”

“... I could not more clearly be holding ‘blue’, sir.”

With the faintest hint of irritation fighting through the slake of customer service, the gnome shook his arms. The motion made it look like he had wings made of tailoring-swatches, attempting to achieve lift-off in a hundred shades of ‘blue’.

“Y-yeah, naw I see that. But I mean really blue, you know?”

Above the curl of his pink moustache, the gnome’s left eye twitched. It was not an overt expression. Perhaps the vague concept of the man someday purchasing something was enough to stifle the otherwise overwhelming inner irritation inside the tailor. Again, he waggled the many, many swatches of colorful, textured cloth.

“... I am capable of dying any sensibility of ‘blue’ you desire. However you must tell me what exact coloration you have a desire for, sir. Aquamarine -- ?” The gnome waggled his left forefinger, indicating a swatch of the color at question. “-- Ultramarine?” Again, he thrust a digit to and fro to make marker of the one -- of many -- swatches.

“Periwinkle?”

“Midnight?”

“Navy?”

“Sapphire?”

“Teal?”

“Fluorescent?”

“Suramarian?”

“Baby?”

“Powder?”

“Icy?”

“Arctic?”

“Lordaeronian?”

“Alteraci?”

“.. Light Alteraci?”

“Neon?”

And on, and on -- and on it went.

Time became a bare, vacant concept in the mind of the poor tailor. His sense of self began to dissolve as the expansive of chronological nothingness continued unabated. All that remained to ground him to the gentle sensation of reality was the burning of his arms as the swatches remained held in his hands. That and the ‘blue’ -- the ever present, unyielding and uncompromising ‘blue’ which took hold of his mind. There was nothing but blue. It invaded his thoughts, his senses -- everything color-shifted, and even the inane babble of the man was reduced to various shades and tints of the aquatic color.

Then, right about when the tailor’s ego was experiencing its final death knell -- salvation came.

“... Wait, what abou’ that one?”

The inescapable spiral of mental desolation suddenly had a rope ladder. With far more speed than was necessary, the gnome desperately attempted to look for the swatch which the man referred to. He may have snapped his own neck were it not for the bundle of swatches which he was having to hold up with his chin.

“-- Which? Which one!?”

“That one, right there.” The man extended a fat finger to tap a simple, well-dyed swatch.

“... Navy?”

“Yeah! That one’ll do. Navy. Appropriate, figure’n. Good, rich color. Can we have it made wi’ that color n’ cloth?”

The anger -- and disbelief --  which simmered beneath the gnome was immense. Were it a meal, it could have fed a hundred -- no, a thousand of Gnomeregan’s hungriest. Yet the promise of a sale kept the white-hot rage caged with the peppy veneer of customer service.

“... Of course. Of course we can. I can have it ready by this afternoon.” Anything to get you out of here and away -- far away.

“Tha’ sounds great! Here … “ The man produced the appropriate purse of coin, paying for the services. Albeit perhaps not for the exact time expended. All the same, he exited with a polite smile of broad teeth, and a wave of his fat-fingered hand.

“Great Maker … “ The gnome groaned in protest, eyes rolling as he dropped all the swatches, bundles, and fabrics into a heap on the counter.

---

Thomas had never been a huge fan of Boralus.

Sure, it was the market-hub and port capital of Kul’Tiras. There were stalls, markets, storehouses and shop fronts for everything under the stars. Rare was the oddity unfound amidst the merchants, tradesman, and seaside hawkers. There was a kind of beauty, indeed, to the Tradewinds in full afternoon swing. Shoulder-to-shoulder, screaming sellers all out-bidding each other on the most peculiar objects. How much was the fair, going price for lizard gizzard? South Sea Barnacle juice? Imported Vrykul ‘whiskey’ from the Howling Fjord? How much a pint -- a gallon?

The roar of the mercantile crowds gave a boon to Thomas’ already blooming smile.

Still, he was a Crestfall born man, and proud of it. Despite the short length of his life on that particular island, he had always found a deep kinship to it. A rememberance which followed him all through his days. Perhaps it was the idyllic recollection of youth -- but everytime he had gone back to visit, for various and sometimes unscrupulous reasons, he had found every hill to be the mountain he remembered; each stream a roaring river. Good thoughts.

The trek from the gnome’s tailoring shop was a short one. He was almost home as it was -- Boralus was suddenly rather a close destination, relatively speaking, to where he laid his head.

Stormholme.

A duchy, as it were -- and he its Duke.

That thought still made his southernly orifices clench up. It gave him the same sensation to consider as a windy day in the crow’s nest. That odd combination of excitement, fear, and abject confusion.

Through the crowds of the Tradewinds, Thomas made his way. He heft his posterior up the seastone stairs which brought man, beast, and cargo from the outer wall dockyards to the interior of the city. Passing memory gave him idle consideration of a time wherein the idea of foreigners rubbing knuckles with the inner city guard was unheard of. With a pouching of his lower lip, he tried to remember seeing a single foreigner in his youth …

An elf? Maybe? -- Oh, no, yes, there was one.

One of the auburn caterpillars which made their home on his face wiggled. It curled, turning on itself to arch in silent contemplation. He did remember an elf. She was a … ‘Quel’dorei’? What did the elves call High Elves? High was right -- she was tall. Legs which went on from sunrise to sunset, and a rear end like a ripe --

“HEY!”

Thomas took the sudden force to his shoulder in stride, instinctually aligning himself to stand proper. Sea legs did good on land as well, it turned out. The man whom he had accidentally rammed into whirled about like he was ready to whallop Thomas -- but halt at recognition.

“You barnacle-cock son of a -- … Tom? TOM! Well shit in m’pants and call me a baby! Ain’t that the Big Iron, as I live an’ steal breath? Fuck on and piss, come here!”

A sandy-haired man of wide shoulders and thick man-carpet, the perpetrator of recognition rolled forward to grasp at Thomas, hugging him. It took a moment, enough for Tom to slowly put his arms around the man before --

“OH! Piss’n ma’ boots, how’n the fel are ya’? Been more’n a minute since I caught sight of the ruddy salt-stained hog call’t ‘Owen McManus’!”

Owen released him, smiling with a shit-grin to match Thomas’ best.

“Been more’n, aye. You still runnin’ your slag-heap cock up an’ down the Eee Kay?”

“Naw, naw -- long story, ain’t done none a’ that in some time. Been a maelstrom a’ life fer’ me lately, ma’ boy.”

“That a damn fact? Well shit -- you gon’ have to split a keg with me an’ regale. I’ve been runnin’ rope with these absolute bastards up’n from Freeman’s Bones. A real salty stack a’ bitches, I promise. Proper drinkers, may even make you see double -- ha!”

The ache of old memories -- and a life now gone -- began to creep up Thomas’ spine. It was not an unpleasant sensation. Like the nibbling of liquor when you thought you’d been drinking ‘virgin’ cocktails at a party too high-heel for you.

“Shit, piss n’ damnation … I ain’t been down to Freeman’s in a long time. They ever fix th’fucking stilts on that pub? Or is it a half a ball-bag from th’salty brine by now?”

“Oh, fuck’n no! You know Halloway is too cheap fer’ that. She’s gonna let the patrons wade in at the knee before she actually pays a carpenter.”

The smile which ate up both men’s faces was as genuine as could be. Old friends splitting old words. It felt good.

“-- Well shit, McManus. Light’s honest truth be tol’, I gotta be on a gryphon by …“

Thomas checked his bare wrist, as if there were something to tell him his time.

“... an hour ago. Believe it or not -- an’ I know this’ll keep yer’ curiosity enticed until I can fuck a keg open with ya’ -- I’m damn’t married now. A real proper lady, as it were. Chil’ren too, two girls.”

There was the sudden hooting, horning, and general catterwalling of laughter. A thick, hearty laughter which only found itself a home in the throats of the working class. Eventually though, Owen quit chuckling and simply stared.

“-- Yer’ serious?”

“Aye, am.”

“Well .. fuck. How’n the fel-fuck am I abou’ to get a gal spread-eagle now? You got a wife, where’n the fuck’s m’first mate gonna be when we hit th’pub?”

A fat finger rose from Thomas’ fist, waggling at the sandy-haired man.

“First of all -- y’were always my first mate. We both know I’m prettier, an’ end a’ day -- ladies prefer t’saw a hardwood log. Second a’all -- gonna have t’rain check the pub. I’m serious, gotta be on m’way. Got a wife’s birthday t’surprise.”

Owen threw his hands up -- nearly clocking a passing merchantman in the jaw -- and sighed.

“Fine! Fine … but you come’n by Hops Line n’ Sinker by end a’ week, ask fer’ me -- or I’ll be weepin’ like a maid in her milk-shirt. Good t’see ya, Tom.”

“Good t’see you too, McManus.”

And with that, they parted ways. In good timing too, as the winged beast which was to ferry Thomas was indeed, soon to depart. Not an hour hence, that was a lie. But there were few ways to escape the hookings of a McManus ‘evening out’. So after another walk around the Tradewinds, soaking in the sights -- and some of the liquor -- Thomas returned to retrieve the item of his earlier purchase.

Happily, the gnome handed it over, all done up in a silvered gift box. Wrapped together with a neat, blue bow, the package was easily passed long to Thomas. With a tippance of another golden coin for the fine -- and speedy -- work, he left. Much to the happiness of the proprietor.

It was only hours -- albeit some in succession -- before Thomas was home. He did his usual post-gryphon-ride ritual of almost vomiting, clenching his cheeks, and checking to make sure he had not, in fact, soiled himself at some point during the journey.

He did not -- this time.

With all of his sanitary interior squared away, he crept into the manorhouse of the estate. Not the easiest feat, seeing as he was sort-of known there. Being the Duke was a bit of a burden in the stealth department, certainly. But -- he was used to avoiding detection. It was not as easy as it used to be. Back in the old days, he could simply wrap his hair up in a bun, tie it with a bandana, and stand with one hip cocked out -- the Stormwind Guard often mistook him for a poor-off lady-of-the-night. Atleast, when the lanterns were dim.

Thomas crept into he and Anna’s shared room. He looked around, eyeing the dark chambers. She was not in for bed -- not yet. With a flick of his gaze, and the gift box under one arm, he checked the time on their clock. Massive, ornate thing that it was -- five to tenth bell. Perfect!

Coming forward toward the bed, he carefully lit a pair of candles on the nightstand. A flick of a match did the job -- a fire he kept far from the gift box under his arm. Then --

With a shimmy, Thomas began the swift process of undressing.

First his boots came off, unlaced awkwardly with one arm and toed aside. He kicked the stout leathers beneath a desk, hidden for now. Similarly he tossed his coat, hurling it through the opening to their off-suite bathing chambers. Hopefully it did not land in the tub. After that, the rest of his clothes were summarily dumped within an open drawer and stuffed shut for later recollection. Now that was not important. Now? It was game-time. If his recollection of his wife’s schedule was correct, she should be coming in for bed any minute.

With himself now fully nude -- at least aside from the auburn carpet which gave him a wool tank-top and shorts -- he climbed aboard their four-poster. He fussed a few minutes, arranging and rearranging the bedding to best support his grand posture. One leg cocked up, knee raised up, other leg splayed outward, holding himself up in a pose to show off his chest. One hand was balled to a fist, aligned at his jaw -- jaw pressed out in handsome fashion, of course -- while the other clutched …

An anchor.

Well, a pillow, really. It had been within the nearly arranged gift-box. A masterful work of tailoring. The ‘pillow’ was gargantuan, more of a faux-body than anything. It was large enough to be quite the cuddle-buddy within a cloak of blankets, were need to arise. Slightly fuzzy, effortlessly soft, and wreathed in the most noble of Navy-blue dye. At the very bottom corner, on the rightmost arch of the anchor, was enscribed a tiny, golden ‘f a h’.

He held it over his groin.

And now … now all he had to do was wait.

@elaianna

[kaiju-z]

Seon Adventures - Episode 6, “Welcome to the Jungle and That’s the Tea”

Another great episode for us, the group /o/

When we last left off with our heroes, the five of them, Kevin and Killer the War Horses, and Azam had left the ship upon which they shared many unforgettable memories (no matter how much Luck wants to forget some funny and TRAUMATIC TM stuffs).

As Azam ran off ahead of everyone, the party felt themselves envigorated, like they went up a tier in the ladder of adventuring or something (they leveled up) and were now left to their own devices.

Their travel from the docks to the city itself was short as they soon came to realize that Menum was a city of trees. Which is to say that those, who made this rainforest their home had repurposed a number of ridicilously large trees into houses and establishments of various necessities. (Think Return of the Jedi).

Belli and Luck were the most easily impressed, as they are basically the sheltered kids. The more they travel, the closer they get to the center, illuminated by what those of the arcane could gather were Dancing Lights. (I personally assume it’s bio-luminescence from the plantlife surrounding them).

Lead by Mournimar and Belli, the disaster siblings, the party go for a high rise tavern, climbing a rope ladder with much acrobatics in tow, being drawn to the sound of people chanting.

“CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!”

What they find up top is entertaining, to say the least. A new initiate, it appears (we later learn his name is Samson) is chugging down some sort of alcoholic drink, much to the amusement and pressure of his fellows. Some sailors from the ship, others local citizens and Forestheart Bretheren, it seems.

While Mournimar and Belli join in the chanting, Luck searches for information from the bartender, upon the party noticing Azam drinking away his woes. While ordering an ale from the wood elf barkeep, Luck asks some curious questions of the Traveling Gentlemen and learns that four of them passed through here (confirming what Mournimar had told him previously on the ship of their even number now). From what he gets, he now knows that they got on bad terms with the leader of the Forestheart Bretheren and promptly made their leave, after searching for some artifacts. 

What lastly he learns of them is that their next destination was the Capitol, Crystalgate. So Luck will have a lot of backtracking to do, if he hopes to get to them soon. He later joins Azam and continues a conversation from the ship, post-prevented execution.

While this is going on, Samson takes a knee. Or. Well, a back as the drink was apparently too much for him. In the merryment, Mournimar orders himself the same thing and is warned that the stuff, Centaur Moonshine, is very heavy stuff. Much to Belli’s protests and failed attempts at preventing disaster, Mournimar starts chugging and Belli tries to get help from an exhasperated Amelia.

To her chagrin, once she arrives, Mournimar is just. Out of it. Burk is proud (Proud Burk count: 1). Amelia ends up carrying Mournimar to a backroom for a few minutes, where they also see a passed out Samson.

Amelia does not have a good time in Menum, sadly and she doesn’t get a wink of sleep either, even after getting a room to yeet Mournimar into. She takes a corner, after Luck takes a second bed. (MISUNDERSTANDINGS WERE HAD and now Luck feels awkward over the disappointed MOM ENERGY from Amelia).

While the others are nap-nap-napping, Belli sneaks out and in search for someone with two silver rings. She reaches an establishment, bounced on by a tattooed Goliath, with whom she has a conversation, hinting at her relation to Ficus. She needs to learn more about his whereabouts, she misses her brother.

Being let in, she soon finds someone the Goliath had directed her towards, a changeling woman around Belli’s age (IT WAS KIT FROM THE SLEEKCLAW ONE SHOT!) and the two have a heart to heart about Ficus, with whom Kit had worked in the past. Kit gives her directions on where she’d have to go next, if she truly wants to reunite with him and the two go their own way, once they are outside. (FRIENDSHIP GET). Belli safely makes it back to the tavern and gets her shut eye.

In the morning, awkwardness between the pointy boys and Amelia. Burk was sleeping the whole time out in the open and had a close to cordial conversation with an old lady that was more confused than freaked out by the Goblin Barbarian (Gorbarian TM).

Once most of everyone reconvenes, Luck buys the lot of them lunch (including for Burk, which I’ma say he ate in canon, unless Hayden says otherwise). The party get approached by Samson, who introduces himself as such. Samson  Drascullion, druid of The Forestheart Bretheren.

The party begins to ask him some questions, following a failed attempt to extort him for money (Belli and Luck, the greedy kiddos tried to bs poor Samson so hard) regarding the cult and elaborate on their quest to take the cult out of commission, permanently. Mournimar learns that they worship all the allowed deities, which confuses him. Why aren’t they worshipping the forbidden ones instead?! Samson and Luck respectively have to point out something: Samson, that the cult believes their mission to kill everyone (PAINLESSLY, YOU GUYS) is just and therefore pray to the “good” gods; and Luck that it wouldn’t make sense for them to pray to Potencia, as she is the one you call upon for ruthless action, punishment and imprisonment. 

The hooved tiefling has to step away from the table at this point, because he’s very upset. Turns out that this cult had no connection at all to the one he was after, personally. Belli approaches and the siblings share a moment in front of everyone else present, revealing things about their backstories.

Mournimar spills the beans about how he was raised n a cult, worshipping the Forbidden Deity “Potencia”. Goddess of  ruthlessness, control and imprisonment  His mother was a member, but his father faltered.  The mother told on the father and the cult attacked. Mournimar doesn’t remember much after that, but he woke up, covered in blood, surrounded by bodies. His mission from that point on was hunting down all those, who worshipped Potencia and rid the world of them.

He tildn’t want to tell Belli, because he was affraid she’d stop being so close to him. Belli’s opinion of him, however, hasn’t changed as she still loves andcares for her tall pointy “bro”.

And she reveals to everyone of her family’s tragedy, how they were turned to stone in her absence, how she tried to pray for all the gods, including the forbidden ones, Potencia especially, for help, to save them.

But she got no answer.

Mournimar doesn’t think less of her.

The two hug it out. It’s heart warming.

Burk. Has heard. None of this as he was still on ground level when this transpired.

After everyone ate, the party and Samson made a stop at his leader’s base of operations, where Samson got an ok, in private, for the lot of them to have a swing at the Death Cult, with the caviat that the FHB would come a few hours later, should they not be done with this.

Taking the war horses with them, the six adventurers made their way to the stronghold of this cult. Luck even got to bond with Kevin, thanks to Mournimar’s approach : D It was nice and Luck is now just embarrassed. That and he was carried onto Kevin’s back by Belli.

Traveling through this dence jungle, they quickly realize how warm and humid it is in here, as they pass through shrubbery and trees, by animals and what not. Luck is bascally the only one, aside from Samson, who’s got this, since he comes from a warmer climate.

They succeed on their strealthing to the checkpoint of the stronghold and see it in it’s full height of 40 ft. With guards atop, none the wiser.

As they plan on their next move, Belli suggests and implements her infiltration, using invisibility and quickly comes to realize how screwed th party would have been if they just blindly walked in.

Aside of the guards on top, there were at least tw more towerds of archers and a table of four, with one just staring in the direction of the door itself.

Belli sneaks on forward and goes through an opening and down a coridor, on the right of which she passes a guard, just sitting, none the wiser. While she can’t find traps, she does find the courage to take the man out and she does so in a few good rounds of stabbing and blufing him into believing that the “Prophet” willed it to be so., with advantage, thanks to invisibility and then, the mask she had collected from the half-elf from where this whole adventure started.

After looting the body, something good, Belli gets to look through further doors and finds 5 men, 3 red robed, 2 black robed, in what was essentially a break room. She manages to trick thm into believing that the wind opened the door and quickly locks them inside, before proceeding and learning of underground activity, including more multi-colored robed cultists, two minotaur and their leader, handling some bizarre orb.

She quickly comes back to the party and things get wild in a hurry, once she explains the situation to them. (Also. Proud Burk count: 2)

Death-ites bodies begin to drop left and right (and to pieces), with Burk gaining the 6 person kill count, above the rest. The rest do great, especially Amelia and Belli, considering Amelia’s disadvantages on rolls, what with 1 point of exhaustion.

Mockery is quite viciously dealt by the bard and Mournimar fires their arrows like a baller, missing only rarely. Episode 6 marks Luck’s first kill in the campaign as he works to break in his new daggers , taking out one greenlit Redguard, before divestabbing a second, (with Amelia finishing that one off ultimately). This episode also Marks Luck’s first use of the Lucky feat, (1 of 3 uses for the day), in which he gets bad luck and misses his target with the crossbow.

Even Samson gets into the spirit of things and takes and kicks some ass, using his druidic abilities as needed.

By the end of the fight, all the grunts on level oen are killed in a variety of gruesome ways, but one, who escapes in the jungle, where he’ll either die to the wildlife or rethink his life choices.

Mournimar almost died. Seeing Belli getting attacked by archers, he took a jump from 40 ft to get close to Belli and took a lot of damage, which didn’t help when he got shot at by the archers.

Don’t even wanna think what would have happened if he had no potions to chug and healing help from Samson @ - @;;;

The bodies were then, of course, looted and the session ended with the party thinking of a gameplan to proceed. (and the 5 of us dorking around with the scribblign feature).

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[yourfriendlyneiborhoodneerdowell]

Waxing Poetic

Ship: Samwise Gamgee x Frodo Baggins 

Rating: G

Tags: tooth rotting fluff, sam wants kids, Frodo talks in his sleep, post-quest fix it fic, slight pining.

Description: Sam wonders why he doesn’t feel right having a traditional family.

It was a bright, sunny day in the shire. Spring had brought the flowers to bloom and the grass to feel cool and sweet beneath the feet of the hobbits who inhabited the little land.

Beneath an old oak looking over the rolling hills surrounding bag end lay a peculiar hobbit.

Not of the sort of cheerful folk who walked pushing their barrows to and fro from the market to their cozy smials, but one with a creased brow from countless days of worry and a tired, almost upset look in his pale eyes.

For indeed Frodo Baggins had seen more of the outside than the average hobbit had the mind to. Scars from a chain weighted with an unfathomable burden lay on his breast. A cold wound like a freezing burn still ached on his shoulder.

His small body was worn, for all the healing that had been done simply could not erase the brokenness his journey had caused.

“Ah, here we are Mr. Frodo. I've made summat special this morn for tea. Chamomile and honey, some apple butter gifted last fall by the Took family.” The other hobbit bent to join him on the grass with a sheepish smile, “ And I tried my hand at making some of Mr. Bilbo’s cinnamon scones, hopefully they turned out as good as I'd hoped.”

Frodo rose slightly to grab one of the lovingly prepared, if not misshapen pastries.

“Dear Sam I have told you time and again to address me as Frodo. Nor mister or master, you are no longer a servant. However I thank you kindly for thinking of me, you needn't have gotten up so early and tended to tea. Honestly, you think of everyone but yourself and you know just as well as I that we are both in need of rest.”

He was right, despite the weight he had gained back and the cheery smile which had greeted him. Behind it all there was a definite exhaustion surrounding his friend.

Trusted, faithful Samwise, Frodo thought to himself. If ever he were to settle at bag end with another they would have to be comparable to his dear friend. Not that he ever intended to. For no lass in the shire could bring warmth into his often hollow chest, sense his unpredictable and often times un-gentlehobbitly like mood, and ask nothing in return quite like the gardener of bag end.

As he enjoyed the pleasantries of Sam’s company and the sweet, rejuvenating food the two recollected fond memories as if they were dreams only faintly remembered after deep sleep.

Bilbo’s 111th birthday party, marvelous fireworks and all. The peaceful summers which came after in which Frodo had taken up as the young master of the smial, carefully watching Sam out in the garden. Of the times he had brought out some ancient Sindarin book through which they could puzzle out meaning with their combined knowledge of the elvish language.

It was not long before Frodo realized he had kept on in his dreamlike state and gone back to thinking about Sam. It seemed these days that every pondered road in his mind eventually brought him back to his friend.

Not sure of the meaning he shook himself to reality.

A fondness was what it was, he was simply fond of Sam.

How could he not be? They shared an undeniable bond. Sam had gone without during their days of hunger, braved roiling waters, and even carried him when the weight of the cursed object was to much to bear. In all respects he was loved as family, loved closer than a friend. There was no word which came to mind to describe the feeling woven so deeply in Frodo’s heart for his gardener so fondness it was.

“Sam,” he asked, butterflies starting to form in his stomach. “I was wondering...what will you do now, I mean now that our journey is over?”

Sam took a thoughtful sip of his tea and looked into the distance as if studying something far away.

“I suppose I’ll be tending to the garden as I always have, no reason to let such a splendid thing go to waste.”

Frodo cracked a smile and laughed.

“Of course you will. But beyond the smial? What will you do with yourself Samwise? You’ve a long life ahead and surely you must fill it with more than gardening. What about..” Frodo’s throat suddenly tightened without he himself quite knowing why,

“About Rosie Cotton, you once told me that you dreamed of settling with her?”

Sam piled the tea tray with the leftovers, cheeks turning unmistakably pink as he did so.

“Aye, I did. Or at least I thought so. We’ve been so free with our time lately I’ve been doing a lot o thinkin’. Too much I reckon. The more I think about Rosie, the less I’m thinkin’ about her. Which don’t quite make sense I suppose.”

“No I don’t suppose it does.” Concern filled Frodo, he wished dearly for his friend to be happy after all they had gone through and the thought that Sam was conflicted reminded him of poor Bilbo. He wished very much that Sam wouldn’t find his heart elsewhere and live properly happy in the shire.

“What about your thoughts is troubling you, if I may ask?”

Sam’s eyes shut and he leaned back into the grass as if reaching deep inside himself for an answer that might sound more clear.

“Well Mr. Fr-erm I mean Frodo. It seems fine to think about at first. A house full of bustling babes and a caring, fine lady like Ms. Cotton.”

Sam paused again to think, “However, sometimes I wonder… is it really her that I’m looking for? Begging your pardon if it sounds selfish sir, but I think perhaps it might just be the family I’m missin’. Almost like I can’t wait to have a family of me own. No mistake I’d choose Rosie over any lass in the shire, but I wouldn’t if I could make my own little hobbits without her or any other so to speak.”

Unable to contain himself any longer Frodo tore a handful of grass from his side and watched as it fell gently on his friend’s head, then burst into an unrestrained fit of giggling. He watched as said friend went from pink to a darker shade of red.

“You silly hobbit!” He exclaimed, “You want to be a pa! Without a lass? You sound like Bilbo dear Samwise! I’m sorry I shouldn’t poke fun, but do you intend to be married?”

“Of course married!” Sam huffed indignantly, “Just not to any lass in the shire! I mean if I had to pick I would pick Rosie,”

“Then perhaps another lass?” Frodo’s teasing was starting to become insufferable. “Tell me sam, would you have an elf? Perhaps a fair woman of Gondor? Even a dwarf?”

Frodo immediately regretted such a bold jab when he saw the gardener frown and cast his eyes to the ground, clearly deeply upset.

“No,” he half whined, half whispered. “A hobbit.”

“A hobbit, but just not anyone from the shire. Everyone knows everyone else around here, but truthfully I can’t see meself’ settling with anyone here, if you catch my meaning.”

Frodo, looking puzzled, clasped his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I can’t say that I do, but we will think on it together.” He paused, “So you want a family, and a hobbit lass to settle down with, but no one in the shire strikes your fancy?… Samwise you are a riddle of a lad.”

A soft wind began rustling the leaves on the tree above the two, sweet scents from the garden began to waft in their direction and birdsong had ceased. Frodo yawned unnecessarily loudly and rolled to his belly. He hardly felt the tickle of the turf on his cheeks as began to feel himself doze a little in the pleasant damp of the lawn.

In fact he was on the edge of sleep when thought he felt strong hands around the crook of his legs and back. He settled into the floating feeling, It must be the wind that made him feel as if he was suspended above the ground.

In the briefest moment he thought he caught the sight of golden curls bouncing above him. Someone was looking down at him with tender eyes and soft smile about their lips.

He was sure now that he had fallen asleep, for he recognized the face as his beloved gardener. His hands felt light, drawn toward the figure above. He reached out and cupped sam’s cheek. It felt rough from spending time in the blazing sun.

Sam leaned into the touch and his eyelids fluttered. At this point there was no doubt in Frodo’s mind that he was deeply asleep.

Rationally it was not the wisest of ideas however easy it would be to brush off his talk as rambling. Without the common sense of an alert mind he dared now to call out to his friend.

“Beautiful Samwise who is always at my side when I need him. How I adore you so. How I wish you knew…” He was sad to remember that only in dreams could he express the unexplainable feelings in his small chest to Sam. However it was such a welcome outlet that he continued.

“ Bright as the summer sun, and sweet like the first harvest of fall apples. Strong and diligent in duty. Enviously handsome. My heart beats only for you…”

***

Frodo awoke to a savory smell. He was a little perturbed to find fresh linen about him and a plush pillow underneath his head. Perhaps Sam had carried him to his room after all? He dearly wished not. Although it was not a habit of his to speak whilst sleeping the thought that occurred to him made his body feel frozen and prickly.

Of course it had to be a flight of fancy. Even as a child he had been a quiet sleeper. It was not possible in any conceivable way that any of his thoughts had become audible. This soothed him in the slightest, allowing Frodo to slip from the bed out of his nightshirt and into proper clothes. That was probably Sam’s doing too…

At last he conceded that the only way to be sure of what had actually happened was to go about the rest of the day in his normal fashion and watch for anything peculiar.

And peculiar his day was going to be for as soon as he stepped into the kitchen to see the short figure in dusty brown overalls he heard a distinct clatter as if a cooking utensil had been dropped.

The other hobbit continued to chop the carrots on the counter, his movements getting quicker with each step Frodo took into the room.

“So you’re finally awake then?” A pause like the quiet after a thunderclap echoing behind the words. Frodo already knew what Sam was going to say before he spoke.

“ I never knowed you talked in your sleep sir.” The voice tried to sound casual but the crack in the middle gave away his nervousness.

My god, Frodo thought. He’s heard, he’s heard everything and now he thinks I’m repulsive. He won’t come back after finishing his cooking, tomorrow his father will be up here to inform me that his family no longer wants to have anything to do with the Bagginses. I am a fool, a disgusting fool who should not even dream of being closer to Sam.

Frodo’s mouth was so dry he couldn’t even answer, his throat swelled and he fought viciously to keep tears from his eyes. He wheezed the only reply that would come out of him.

“You’ve done enough today, perhaps you should go home Sam.” Yes, home and as far away as possible from me.

The chopping stopped and Sam turned, body facing Frodo but looking away as if something down the hall was interesting him greatly. The other hobbit wanted to roll into a ball underneath his bedsheets, why had he left his room at all?

A sniffling sound caught his attention. Sam’s eyes hid behind his hair but by the tears dripping down his face Frodo could tell he was Very upset. No longer able to hold in his own feelings the other began sobbing into his hands.

Nothing would be the same again, now that Sam knew.

He waited for the words to come. Vile, horrendous, repulsive. Those were what he felt in his heart.

The sniffing got closer but Frodo couldn’t force himself to take his palms from his eyes. Was Sam so truly upset that he should think of something like hitting him? No, Sam was too kind, too gentle to harm any form of life.

Instead of a smack Frodo felt his right hand gently pulled away by warm, calloused fingers. He could see his friend frighteningly clear now. His hazel eyes deep with overwhelming thought and tears still falling down his flushed cheeks.

“Begging your pardon…” Sam hiccuped, “ Mister Frodo...Blast it! Frodo, would you mind if we had lunch in the living room today?”

He simply nodded in reply fearing the shameful whimpering that may have escaped instead.

At this Sam visibly relaxed, eyes brightening a little. He wiped his eyes and nose across his sleeve. Hurriedly he set about piling together the tray of cold meats, vegetable soup, cheese, crackers and tart jam that was intended to be their lunch. Sam was in and out of the room like a bee at work in a patch of wildflowers. Soon enough Frodo could hear fire crackling in the hearth and the clink of Bilbo’s silver mugs as each was filled with light ale.

Nervously the young master made his way to the next room and then threw himself down on the plush armchair where he often sat to read. This time he quite wished that he could see nothing entirely so he buried himself among the pillows and the old throw blanket on which he was sitting.

Sam came back to quite the sight. Two pale blue eyes, puffy and red about their edges, peeking from beneath a mountain of fabric. Sam didn’t look much better but he had refused to hide like a swatted pup. Seeing his master so afraid hurt indefinitely more than whatever had brought him to tears and he was desperate to clear the look of fear from his eyes.

“It’s ok.” Sam said gently, “ You ain’t hurt no one and I ain’t mad.”

A nose appeared from under the bundle, followed by the rest of Frodo’s head.

“How much have you heard?” His voice trembled audibly.

“Now hold your horses, I asked you if you would eat with me so you could hear me out and help me. What I have or haven’t heard isn’t the topic of conversation. If we started there I fear I should become biased when trying to tell you this darned tangled thought.”

Sam sat near the fire and exhaled to expel hesitation from himself. After offering Frodo food from the tray and making sure he was sipping at least enough of the ale to feel less trapped like a hunted rabbit he judged that it was a good time to restart.

“I’ve had more time to think since this morning, about having a family. I’ve however not been thinking about any sleepy ramblings you’ve been doing.” Sam looked a bit sleepy himself as he lapsed into memory.

“I never noticed the surroundings when thinking about the family I wish for. I’d only thought to notice how happy I was imagining telling your stories to a little hobbit lass sitting on my knee or playing near the garden.

I tried very hard to see what else lie in my daydream. Where I was, who was with me. It weren’t no use. Then I’d noticed you fell asleep sir and well I couldn’t just leave you to lie outside. Seeing you so relaxed put my heart at ease and I was smiling like some dopey tween asked to their first dance. It made me think how glad I was that you’re healing. Maybe you aren’t healed completely, but every little bit feels like a victory for me. Then you looked up.”

Frodo, lightened by the alcohol and the pleased tone of his friend’s voice but not enough so to shed the old blanket, rose and sat next to him inquisitively. Sam let him get settled so as not to rush anything important he needed to say.

“I looked up and?” Frodo’s sniffled.

“And, I knew the answer to my problem. It was like someone had taken my noggin and set it so I was seeing straight again. You looked up and I felt my daydream flash through my mind crystal clear. Me and the young one at bag end. Digging in the garden, rolling down the hill, racing to the door for elevensies. Cold winters sipping cider by the fire, just me and my beautiful family.

Celebrating Yule, watching the summer fireflies together while the babe was tucked up in bed.

Always I would look up to Bag End and sitting on the bench beneath the trees smiling bright as I ever seen one smile, there was you.”

He smiled bashfully, wringing his hands and looking away. Sam knew in his heart why he fancied no lass in the Shire, he knew and as was his nature he’d been honest as best as words could convey. Even if Frodo felt nothing more than a familial bond with him it was enough. Love for the sake of love filled his heart in a way that he should be content no matter the outcome. He had said his piece and was no longer afraid.

Frodo was caught unawares and tongue tied in the worst possible moment. Sam had heard him and refused to take his sleepy ramblings as a confession. He had waited patiently until Frodo could truly confirm the words he spoke. Understanding clocked him over the head like a brick. Sam hadn’t been crying over what he said, he’d been crying about finally resolving a question that had been eating away at him for longer than he had guessed. The great weight lifted off of his shoulders was such a relief that even stout hearted Samwise wept with relief. Still, he didn’t want to assume wrongly, even if he had guessed right. The only way to know was to ask.

“Sam, why were you crying in the kitchen earlier? I was afraid I upset you terribly by some things I might have said. But you found a reason to stay, which didn’t make sense to me at the time.”

“Why never,” a boldness came about the gardener, whether to comfort his friend or express his feelings was beyond Frodo’s guess.

Sam reached out and clasped his hand gently, the sudden contact almost made the young master pull away but Sam’s sturdy reassuring grip calmed him.

“I thought you’d think me a delusional ninnyhammer when I told you that I had figured out what I was missing. But to understand and feel wonderful love that I had not understood before left me right confused.”

Frodo was in definite danger of falling into tears once more. His eyes stung and his heart beat wildly. He did the only thing his body would allow him to.

Throwing the blanket from himself he lept forward into Sam’s arms and buried his heat against his chest. Sam smelled like grass clippings, tulips, sunlight, and all that was beautiful in the world. He was warm and comforting and Frodo could feel the tattoo of his heart against him. Sam pulled him in close and wrapped his arms about the other hobbit.

“If I have said as I think I have, It is true. Oh Samwise, dear Sam, I mean every word with my whole heart. You are brave and faithful, kind and generous. More beautiful than the halls of Lothlorien and more precious than the mithril of the lonely mountain. Sweet as the air after spring rain. I am not simply fond of you Samwise Gamgee, I adore you with all that I am. I apologize for waxing poetic but I just cannot seem to stop myself.”

As easily as if he had done the action a thousand times over Sam lifted Frodo’s face and kissed him gently. There was no over eagerness in either hobbit. Both treated the other as if they would break at the slightest pressure. It was chaste and full of endearment more intimate than any other profession of love one could imagine. In that time they exchanged their hearts, saying all that could not be said in all the languages among middle earth.

It was Sam who finally broke the kiss.

“I’ve always loved your poetry my dear Frodo.”