#proper reiterated to ensure they are willing and prepared to take him on

[3k626ekful7ozxujar43keiw236in2h]

Homeboy had his own running tally on the main whiteboard of his attacks

[persona-rrau]

An art/fic collab between myself (@straylize) and Polux (@hyakunana)!  All of the art by Polux, but below you can read the fic that accompanies it! We wanted to give this pair some love, and the watercolor work is fantastic. The fic was a ton of fun to write too. We hope everyone enjoys this!

Art:  @hyakunana

Fic:  @straylize

Title: “Axe”ident

Word Count: 5003

AO3 Link: here!

Preview:

Some forces in the world were truly impossible to fight against—the rolling waves of a stormy sea, the beating sun in the desert, the rocky terrain of the mountains—and Haru Okumura.

Ryuji Sakamoto had learned that many years ago—she was a strong-willed woman, one who would never change her mind once it became set on something. It was truly fortunate, though, that she was generally the sort to use that will power in order to bring about good for herself and those around her. Even the greatest of obstacles were not meant to stand in her way, and if they threatened to, then Haru would find a way to tear them down herself.  It was simply her way, after all. Despite being generally soft-spoken and seen as demure by many, Ryuji was also aware that she could be firm and assertive; her ability to know exactly how to balance those aspects of her personality were exactly what made her so effective.

It was something he learned when he only barely knew her, as he had experienced firsthand how her sheer strength of will could get her exactly what she wanted once she had set her mind to it.  They were only teenagers when Ryuji first met Haru; they were only teenagers when a fateful moments led him to find her in a dangerous situation in a back alley one night. They were only teenagers when he took a stand against her attacker, and only teenagers when he sustained a serious injury to protect her. In turn, they were only teenagers when Haru decided that this brave young man was the one worthy of serving as her retainer.

She had never cared for the man tasked with being her protector; though she was taught to do as her father said, it certainly hadn’t meant she enjoyed it. Kunikazu Okumura was a man of great power, leading both the Okumura region and its capital, the city of Astarte, to great prosperity. His control over things around him was unmatched, and though he abided by the laws of Arisatia and respected the King’s rule, anything purely under his jurisdiction was handled in a manner that couldn’t be denied as uniquely his. But strict as he may have been, there were times when he knew how to compromise—and very often, that compromise had been with his very own daughter. He had not been keen on the idea of Ryuji serving as her retainer, and with good reason. He was a commoner, practically a peasant by Astarte’s standards. He was crass and crude, even when on his best behavior, and it was made clear that he had a short fuse.

To further that, the boy had been injured. Haru’s attacker, a man Kunikazu had once put a measure of trust in, had broken Ryuji’s leg and left him potentially unable to fully recover. He had believed that at most, paying for the boy’s medical care would suffice well enough, but Haru refused that notion. She wanted for Ryuji to be her retainer at any cost. That person was the only one she felt suitable, far more than who Kunikazu himself had tasked, and certainly well beyond that of the suitors he had chosen for her.

It was clear to him that her reasons stretched beyond being enamored by his brave façade. Kunikazu Okumura was a man who knew his daughter well, bold and soft-spoken, but a romantic at heart. She was interested in Ryuji as a suitor, regardless of class and circumstance. And that reason had been precisely why Kunikazu agreed only on the conditions that when his leg recovered, he would have to work twice as hard to prove he was capable of being a protector. Kunikazu needed to ensure this boy would be up to the task, that everything Haru wanted him to be would, in fact, be met.

Her fierce determination was truly a force to be reckoned with, because it hadn’t only been her father that she had won over with her stubborn demeanor. It had been Ryuji as well. She had made it clear to him in those days that she didn’t intend to take no for an answer. Haru stood by his side each day as he recovered and rehabilitated; she had been the one to support his weight when he took his first steps, and the one to cheer him on as he trained his body to meet the standards that Kunikazu had set in place all those months before.

The journey had been a long one, to be sure, but just as Ryuji had inspired Haru with his brave and chivalrous nature, with his boldness and his crass mouth, Haru was just as inspiring. She was a young woman who never gave up, even when things looked grim. She somehow always found a way to smile even through her struggles, and her determination was something that Ryuji himself never wanted to deny. It was why he had given in to being her retainer to begin with…

And why in the years that followed, he found himself unable to say no to her whims. It took them years to find that balance, but it was one that suited them perfectly. A noble and her retainer, but also the closest and dearest of friends—and a myriad of feelings that existed between them unspoken. They owed their lives to one another in a sense—Haru’s very literally, while Ryuji’s was centered solely on how a peasant would not have made a life for himself that was sustainable without her help.

It had been nearly a decade from that fateful day when Haru, the immovable force she was, had begged sweetly for Ryuji to accompany her somewhere new.

“I dunno, Haru. Could be dangerous with so many people in town,” His words came out easily, casually; though it was uncommon to hear a retainer speak their lord’s name with no formality, it was preferred between them. Haru disliked the stuffy formalities. Being called ‘my lady,’ felt impersonal; they were friends, first and foremost, after all.

“That is why you should accompany me though, isn’t it?” Haru’s response, in turn, had been almost sickeningly sweet. Her looped her arm around Ryuji’s and gave it a gentle squeeze against her as she offered him a knowing smile.

Ryuji’s cheeks flushed slightly, he allowed his gaze to avert as his brows knit together. “That circus thing’s in town, ain’t it? Who knows what kind of weirdos are wandering around.”

“I believe they’re a troupe of traveling entertainers rather than a circus. But they’re famous! Mako said her sister has heard of them, even all the way from Eigaon!”

Her tone was airy and delighted; Haru always managed to emanate warmth at even the smallest of details. Careful to press again Ryuji in a half-hug, she elected to reiterate her point. “It’s barely off the manor’s grounds, anyway. If the city weren’t so bustling today, I’d have gone alone like I usually do.”

Ryuji’s expression shifted into a frown.

“Your old ma—Governor Okumura… he’s really gonna kill my ass one of these days if you keep runnin' off to some secret hideout without tellin’ me…” He paused, and it was followed by a brief, but exasperated sigh. “Guess I’m gonna have to go with… you’ll just go without me anyway, won’t ya…”

It was almost immediate how Haru pulled away from Ryuji and clapped her hands together, equal parts enthralled and victorious. She let out a giggle before she turned in the opposite direction. “I’ll meet you at the back entrance, Ryuji!”

With another sigh, Ryuji took off in the direction of his own room; if he was going to accompany her beyond the manor’s gates, then he would have to be prepared for all threats while remaining inconspicuous. That meant wrapping the weaker part of his leg with a bandage for a little extra support, his light armor, and a small but blunt concealed weapon. These were just the basics, as he didn’t anticipate a proper threat in the way he did when they ventured in toward the city center or the harbor—but it was his duty to protect Haru, and he would take all the precautions necessary to be able to carry out his duties as needed.

Getting ready always took a bit of time for Ryuji for that reason; a retainer still had protocols to follow in order to be effective. As he did so, he wondered quietly just what it was Haru was up to. It wasn’t uncommon for her to go off on her own for a bit, particularly after having an argument with Kunikazu or anyone else. No matter how calm she remained, Ryuji had learned that she did have her own fire of rebellion within her. The first time they’d had a major disagreement, she had, with a smile, contemplated getting an axe.

It was something he played off as a joke and then quickly apologized for his insolence, but over the years, that threat had come out a few times. Naturally, Ryuji had never actually seen her wield an axe, or perhaps he would have taken it seriously.

In any case, that day had seemed a bit different to Ryuji. Haru was in good spirits, and yet still wanted to venture off to her secret place. That place she went off on her own to and demanded Ryuji not follow—which, on those days, was advisable. He still followed her a certain distance so that he would be able to come to her aid if needed, but never followed through the whole way, nor did he peek in on what she had been doing. Unlike all of those times in the past, though, she had requested his presence. It was hard for him to not wonder, though he guessed that she would be revealing her intentions soon enough.

By the time he had prepared fully for their small outing, Haru had been waiting in their agreed upon meeting spot.

“Sorry,” Ryuji offered the apology lightly, bringing a hand up to his head to ruffle a bit as his short, disheveled hair. “Wrapping my leg took a little longer than planned.”

It was only a half-truth, and though Haru knew it, she responded by shaking her head and offering him a smile. “We aren’t under any time limits. I wouldn’t just go on my own after you promised me that you’d come.”

That much was at least a truth. Haru certainly would have left without him if he refused to go or tried to stop her. But Ryuji said he’d go—so she had no reason to try an escape a cage that presently didn’t exist. He wished to keep her safe, he was tasked with the same, but he didn’t seek to limit her freedoms—he only sought to keep safe from harm as she chased those very freedoms she wanted for.

“Let’s get goin’ then,” He bowed slightly to her, an offer of gentlemanly politeness that seemed unfitting for someone as rough around the edges as Ryuji always was. Even after so many years, he hadn’t become stiff like many other nobles and retainers they knew. Yet still, despite those frayed edges, he did his duty well, following the nature he had been raised with—polite and only disrespecting those who didn’t show compassion or respect for others. Those types were the opposite of Haru, after all. With a smile, he moved towards the door, pulling it open and gesturing for her to exit the manor.

There was a brief silence that lingered as they made their way outside. The sun shone brightly above them, with few clouds in the sky to offer them shade.  The air was warmer than most would expect for late spring—Astarte’s climate was well suited for being a beachside port city, with only the ocean breeze shifting their direction to cool them. It was nothing short of an ideal day to be outside, though even still, Ryuji had no idea what was on their agenda.

“So… where are we headed, anyway? I mean… I know it’s your secret spot, and I know the path’s this way, but…” He trailed off, in need of a brief pause to find the words he needed. Words weren’t exactly Ryuji’s strong suit, though, so he came up short. “Guess I’m just curious. Ain’t like you’ve given me any hints.”

“It wouldn’t be as fun without a little suspense, right?”

Haru giggled, and Ryuji’s cheeks flushed in response. Her answer was so typically like her; Haru was definitely the type to seek even the smallest of thrills if it meant keeping things a little more exciting.

"Haru speak for ‘I’m not telling, so just wait and see,’ huh.”

She responded with only a hum before she elected to take one step ahead of Ryuji. She would lead the way fearlessly, with little reason to hesitate. Her enthusiasm showed in her steps; they bounced in such a way that the curls of her hair seemed to have a life all their own, and Ryuji’s eyes seemed to focus easily on their movement. Her hair seemed to have a life of its own, somehow. When she was feeling glum, her curls seemed to deflate entirely, when angry, it seemed to stand straight on its ends. And then there were the days like this one, where her elation caused that bounce that seemed to been even more vibrant than her smile and more energetic than her steps. Ryuji had no idea how such a thing was even possible, and yet every day, he managed to see it with his own eyes.

There was a silence that fell after Haru hummed, warm and comfortable. It was something familiar between them, that they didn’t always need to converse in each other’s presence. Ryuji trusted where she would guide him; in turn, she trusted that he would keep her safe.

The path they walked wasn’t at all populated, though. Despite the hustle and bustle through Astarte’s streets, they stayed away from the main roads. They walked on one side of a stone wall, through a path of dirt and sand that was lined by trees and overgrowth. The other side of that wall was a populated city street, which left the two able to overhear the conversation of residents and tourists alike. Some spoke about their vacation plans to visit the beach, other spoke of merchant’s business, and further were the ones who spoke of that traveling troupe of entertainers that had made their way to the regional capital—the name ‘Seven Sisters’ came up quite frequently as they progressed along the path. Silence remained between the two of them, though, with Haru and Ryuji both content to let the idle chatter in the distance fill the air instead. For Haru, it was a good means of anticipation—which worked well on Ryuji’s ever-present curiosity.

The silence remained and anticipation built until they came across a small clearing in the path. It was hardly a sight to behold; the clearing was little more than dirt, sand and tree stumps. The stone wall remained on one side of them, while the path ahead narrowed just as it had behind them.  Near the further narrowing path sat some large sections of wood, presumably from one of the trees that had been chopped down already, Ryuji concluded. Next to the wood was an axe, which seemed to be where Haru was headed.

She let out a pleased giggle as she bounced towards the axe, it seemed almost like a monumental effort for her to pick it up. She heaved a groan before she turned to look at Ryuji, who had been momentarily stunned into utter silence.

“Wa-wait—!” He barely managed to sputter out before an incredulous sound escaped. It took a long moment before he managed to form another sentence—which had somehow managed to sound even more incredulous than the incoherent sound that preceded it. “You were for real about that axe thing!? What the hell, Haru, that’s dangerous! You can barely hold it without topplin’ over!”

Haru didn’t falter even for a moment, though. It was as if she had completely anticipated the way Ryuji’s would react, and had a response telegraphed for that express purpose. “Did you really think I just took a walk to release all of that stress, Ryu? ”

Ryuji sputtered again; the sweet way she spoke betrayed the hardened edge of how she said his nickname specifically. Most would have thought it cute that she had one at all, but Ryuji knew that with the emphasis on his name that way, he probably needed to avoid pressing his luck too hard. “Lo-look. All I’m sayin’ is… you shoulda told me way earlier. Axes ain’t my thing, but I could’ve given you some form tips or somethin’ so you don’t get hurt.”

His jaw clenched, his brows drew together—Ryuji’s face was contorted in such a way that he was hoping he was cooling off the hot water he’d quickly found himself in. It wasn’t a lie , after all. He would have done all of those things had he known far earlier what she’d been up to… he just also would have perhaps preferred she chose to wield an axe that was more suited to her small frame.

“I think my form’s improved greatly since I picked this hobby up,” Seemingly satisfied with Ryuji’s backpedaling, she offered him a much less deadly smile. “That’s why I wanted to show you.”

“Why you wanted… to show… me?’

He was undoubtedly puzzled by her reasoning, which she also seemed to anticipate.

“You may be my retainer, but that doesn’t mean I want to rely on you for everything. I need to be able to defend myself better… but truthfully, I wanted to learn for myself how to do it,” She began to explain, and though Haru paused, she didn’t give Ryuji enough time to get a word in edgewise. “If I asked Father, he would likely set me up with a fencing instructor. But I don’t feel that suits me, and such… pristine lessons, they won’t lend well to truly being able to fight for myself. So that’s when  I decided I would learn with a weapon of my choosing, and when the time was right, I would show you what I’ve learned.”

“Haru…” It took a long moment before Ryuji managed to utter even her name. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she always managed to find new ways to surprise him. Really, her reasoning hadn’t been at all surprising. She had always rebelled against following strict tradition, and always desired to do things on her own terms. This had been no different.

It was difficult not to just admire her tenacity, and so Ryuji dipped his head as a smile tugged as the corner of his mouth.

“You win, like always,” It wasn’t as if Ryuji would really say no to her anyway—it was merely an acknowledgement that her reasoning resonated with him, and Ryuji was not one to stop her. She was, after all, an unstoppable force in his eyes.  A cyclonic beauty that couldn’t be matched in any sense of the word. “So… you just want me to watch what you can do, then?”

“If you could just move that piece of wood onto the stump for me…” She was capable of doing so for herself, but Haru knew she’d have to set the axe down in order to—and once she had it in hand, she didn’t want to have to pick it up again.

Ryuji’s eyes shifted warily to the axe before he nodded and moved towards the pile of unchopped wood. “Just watch where you’re swingin’ that thing.”

He meant it to say ‘ don’t swing it in my direction and take off a limb, ’ but even Ryuji had enough self-control to not let those words slip from his lips. The smile never left Haru’s lips, and though in that moment, it was difficult to read whether or not she harbored any annoyance that warranted a release of stress… there was at the very least, an aura of pride. Rather than push his luck any further, he did what she had requested from him—and then immediately pushed some distance between them by way of stepping back toward the wall.

“Watch closely, Ryuji!” Haru’s words were brief, but bright; that aura of pride in what she had taught herself seem to pour out of her. She stood in front of the tree stump, her hands tightly gripped around the haft of the axe. There was no form or finesse to it at all; the weapon was large and unwieldy for someone of her size and build. Yet still, Haru drew upward before she slammed the tool down towards the wood that sat upon the tree stump. It was with absolutely no skill at all that she’d somehow lucked out, splitting it down the middle. Her aim was good, to be sure… but she lacked technique.

Despite that, she looked at Ryuji proudly. “I know my form needs improvement, but when I first tried, I could hardly lift the axe…”

A stunned silence filled the air; Ryuji’s eyes were wide, but it was impossible for her to tell what he was thinking. Was he impressed? Surprised? Completely abhorred? She wouldn’t know, not until he spoke.

“Ho… ly… shit… ” stunned was certainly one way to describe his state at that moment. “Haru…”

Immediately, she began to backpedal. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and Ryuji responded in kind by leaping forward. “Oh… um. Did... Did I do poorly?”

“N-no. Nonono, it’s not that! I mean, yeah. Your form kinda sucks, but that shit ain’t easy. That axe is fuckin’ huge and you still split that thing right down the middle!” Abhorred definitely would not describe Ryuji—awed would, however. Haru brightened instantly; though Ryuji was crass and blunt, not hesitating at all to tell her that she still had a long way to go before improving—he was honest. She could see that even if he agreed she had much to learn, he had no intention of being discouraging toward her. Ryuji had never been good at holding back, after all—he was the sort who wore his heart on his sleeve and his emotions plainly showed in his expression. It drew a sense of relief from Haru; even if Ryuji still appeared to be keeping a safe distance to avoid her wild swings, it was plainly obvious that he wasn’t displeased.

“Perhaps now that I have the basics, I could seek out someone to train me,” She mused quietly, more to herself than to Ryuji. It wasn’t as if she expected him to know where she’d even be able to find such a person—but Haru felt encouraged by Ryuji’s awed reaction.

“Keep it up and you’re gonna put me out a job…” His response came with a bit of an awkward laugh. He wasn’t really concerned that she would use that sort of training as a means of firing him, not after all she’d done to ensure he would be her retainer. He couldn’t deny though, that he felt a sense of joy and purpose in being able to be a pillar of strength for her, though. Even still, he believed in her ability to stand strong on her own Maybe it would mean that in the future, he would simply have to watch her back instead of guarding her on all sides. And really, would that be so bad? Ryuji didn’t think so. “Can’t deny that I kinda wanna see you do it again. Think you can go two-for-two?”

“I’d be happy to try, if you’d do the honor of placing down another piece of wood for me.”

That was a request that was easy for Ryuji to comply with; he wanted to see Haru try again. He didn’t actually harbor a single doubt about her capability to do so, he simply wanted to watch her a little more closely. He’d been (and still was) so awed that he couldn’t commit the action to memory as he’d wanted to. Besides that, Haru seemed so thrilled with herself that he could hardly resist indulging her once more. So he did as requested, offering her a playful bow at the formality of her request, and once he retrieved another piece of wood from the pile, he placed it upon the stump.

“All right, let’s see it!”

He encouraged, and Haru readied herself. It all looked just about the same to start, but as she began to swing the axe downward, the weight of the tool got the better of her. Her wrist twisted, her face contorted, and she let out a cry of distress. The axe dropped from her hands, and she managed only barely to evade another injury with a quick step back.

Ryuji left absolutely no room for hesitation.

“Haru!” He leapt forward, no time wasted as he made his way to her side. The axe was all but forgotten, as was his request to see any more of her new resolve. All that mattered was tending to her; it was his duty. But more importantly, he didn’t wish to see her in pain. Haru held her wrist and bit her lip in an attempt to hold back the tears that had formed in her eyes, but hadn’t fallen.  “C’mere… let me get a look at it.”

His words were gentle, but still carried that sense of duty and urgency that made it clear why Haru harbored so much trust for him. She nodded, wincing just a little as she held her arm out. His touch was just as gentle as his words; for all that he seemed rough around the edges, he never seemed to let that carry through when it came to his touch. He poked and prodded gently, which she responded to with small hisses of pain.

“Looks like it’s just a sprain. We’ll have the doc look at it tomorrow, since he’s probably off-duty by now. Still…” Ryuji didn’t want to just leave her injury untended to. “Let’s sit for a sec.”

“Sit? But…” She spoke quietly, her gaze shifting to the space around them. The tree trunk was the only spot that could double as a seat, or else one of them would have to sit in the dirt and sand.

“I’ll give you a boost,” Ryuji took the thought in another direction. He motioned toward the stone wall that lined the path. Even if other civilians were walking along the road on the other side, they would blend in just fine. Plenty of people sat atop the walls to rest through the day—the only difference would be what side of the wall they came from, something hardly anyone was likely to notice.

Haru offered him a nod of trust in return, and within moments, with her good hand clasping her injured arm, Ryuji lifted her by the waist. He used all the strength his arms and legs could muster, especially at that angle, and with his overcompensation for his own weak leg, to set her atop the wall. After a moment, and with a deep breath, he hauled himself to the spot next to her on the wall. Haru held back the displays of pain, though a few whimpers managed to escape her throat as he settled himself in.

“It’s a bit of a walk back,” Ryuji pointed out—that and the later hour in the day, with twilight looming—meant he couldn’t just leave things be. He began to roll up the fabric of his pants until he could find the cloth wrapping that he’d used earlier to keep his leg secure. He continued to speak as he began to unwrap it. Though he knew he would put himself at risk that way, Haru’s well-being came first. “We gotta secure that thing so you don’t aggravate it.

“Ryu, your leg…” She was worried, and it wasn’t as if Ryuji didn’t know exactly why that was. She looked at him with that soft, concerned gaze, but all Ryuji did was shake his head.

“No biggie. I’ll be fine. Besides, that’s my job, y’know? Gimme your wrist again.”

He wasn’t going to take no for an answer; Ryuji was just as stubborn as Haru herself. As he tended to her arm, he held it steady. Ryuji wrapped the bandage with care—his expertise in doing so for himself lent well to their current predicament. “Just lemme know if it’s too tight.”

“No… it’s perfect, Ryu…” As Ryuji finished wrapping the injury, she used the hand now stabilizes to reach for his. She didn’t allow him to pull his hand back. Instead, she clasped it tightly, careful to not bend her wrist the wrong way. It still hurt, but the stabilized positioning kept her tears at bay. Instead, a soft and grateful smile tugged as the corners of her mouth. She scooted closer and rested her shoulder against Ryuji’s arm, cheeks flushed. His flushed in turn, before she even finished her thought. “Thank you for being so thoughtful, and for taking care of me.”

                                                  ***

A short distance away from atop the wall sat another. He was quiet, observant. With little more than a pencil in hand and a sketchbook settle in his lap, he smiled at the sight of the future Governess and her retainer sharing a sweet, intimate moment.

“Yes… you are both truly… inspiring in every sense of the word.” He laughed quietly to himself; though he would not interrupt them now, there was little denying that they would soon prove to be precious muses to him. He turned the page of his sketchbook and began to draw—a moment like that was meant to be captured and never forgotten, after all.

[bobasheebaby]

Broken Promises- Consequences of a Fling Chapter 8

Pairing: Liam x Veronica x Drake

Word count: 3,058

Warnings: angst, perceived infidelity, phlebotomy, language, pissed off woman(yes I'm using it as a warning), heartbreak

Summary: The day of the paternity test is here. Liam has been off with the mystery redhead for three days, how does Veronica confront him? Someone realizes the sad truth that happiness can't be found where they thought. 

A/N: I was talking to @imma-winchester-addict about TRR book 3 chapter 16 and the what could happen because of the fling and this was born.

The rest of the wonderfully dramatic idea given to me by @scarlettedragon we were a bit inspired by Oliver Queen of Arrow on the CW. If you watch it, you will realize what we mean as you read this brutal chapter. Sorry not sorry. 

If you want to be tagged let me know.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters I’m just borrowing them from PB for a bit. 

Days after finding out Liam was having an affair with help from Drake’s contact Veronica and Drake were waiting in an exam room for Liam to arrive so they could finally be on their way to finding out who the father of her unborn child was. Drake sat next to Veronica holding her hand as he gently rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.

Liam entered the room and was surprised to see them sitting together holding hands. Of course he would try to weasel his way in while I was gone! He sadly shook his head, I’ve already lost her. He sat in the empty chair on the other side of the room. He noticed Drake shaking his head and Veronica glaring at him. They are the ones who got cozy while I was ‘on business’, why are they pissed at me? Liam pushed the hurt aside and set himself into king mode, he could address them and their infidelity later, this was not the time or place.

The door opened and the doctor entered, her eyes widening as she took in the scene, Liam felt thankful she didn’t mention anything. He tried to act as if it was completely normal for his wife and Queen to be holding hands with another man on the other side of the room. The doctor went to the supply cabinets and collected the necessary supplies for the blood draw and two oral swabs. She readied the tubes placing labels on each tube for the oral swab, and the vial for blood. She applied antibacterial gel to her hands and donned a pair of vinyl gloves.

She moved to Liam first, “open please your majesty.” She requested.

Liam opened his mouth, she took the swab and rolled it along the inside of his cheek, ensuring to collect enough saliva before putting it in the correct tube and sealing it.

She changed gloves and grabbed the second swab kit before moving over to Drake to repeat the process, “open up Mr Walker.” She asked.

Drake opened his mouth, and again she took the swab and rolled it along the inside of his cheek, collecting enough saliva, placing it in his marked tube and sealing it, placing it next to the first.

The doctor repeated the process of switching out gloves, she picked up the needle, connecting to the vacutainer, she grabbed the remaining supplies and walked over to Veronica laying them out on a small table. She grabbed the elastic tourniquet, “can you hold out your arm your majesty?” She asked.

Veronica stretched out her arm, the doctor wrapped the tourniquet around her arm above the elbow, trying it off.  With a single finger she palpitated the inside of Veronica’s elbow, feeling for a good vein. She grabbed the alcohol pad, ripped it open cleaning the area she felt the best vein. She picked up the needle, inserting it in at a slight angle pulling back slightly, she grabbed the tube and stuck it in the vacutainer. Once she collected enough blood she removed the tourniquet and tube, placing both on the small table. She grabbed a cotton ball, pressing it over the needle, she removed the needle from her arm grabbed the prepared piece of tape taping the cotton ball to her arm.

She collected the used supplies placing everything in the proper bins, before removing the gloves, she collected the three samples, putting them into a collection bag and sealing it, “we’ll send these to the lab and we will call you to come in when the results are in which shouldn’t be more than two weeks.” She stated before leaving the room.

Liam wanted to just ask them what the fuck was going on, how could she just move on when he was gone for three short days but he knew it was best to wait. The ride back to the palace was tenser than Liam and Veronica’s ride to their first ultrasound. All three wanted to speak their mind but didn’t want to in the enclosed space. Veronica kept to Drake who continued to hold her hand, rubbing his calloused thumb over the back on her hand, trying to keep her calm. Liam clenched and unclenched his jaw as he watched them huddled together, taunting him with their infidelity. He could feel his anger rising higher, his blood boiling in his veins, their shameless flaunting had him seething. Three days, it only took three days for Veronica to run to Drake’s arms! Why was I stupid enough to trust that she would be faithful now?

They finally arrive at the palace, the trip feeling like it took three times longer than it actually did. The three jumped out of the SVU, Liam storming off to their suit, Veronica a little behind him, Drake by her side.

“It’s okay Jones, I’m here.” Drake promised as they entered the royal suite behind Liam.

Liam spun on his heel when he heard Drake, “what the fuck are you doing here?!” Liam shouted.

“What the hell do you mean what is he doing here?! He’s been keeping me from completely losing it the last three days you fucking lying asshole!” Veronica screamed, she dropped Drake’s hand, grabbing the closest thing to her, a throw pillow and heaved it at Liam’s head.

Liam was caught by surprise, the pillow making contact with his head, before bouncing off and dropping to the floor.

She stepped forward, spying the bar car, picking up a rock glass and chucked it at him, Liam ducked and the glass smashed into the wall behind him shattering upon impact.

His eyes widened as she picked up the full decanter of whiskey and heaved it at his head, he side stepped and it narrowly missed him as it collided with the dresser, whiskey spraying all over as it shattered upon impact.

“Veronica, please, stop! What do you think I did?” He questioned, holding his hands up, hoping she’d stop chucking things at him.

“Think?! Think?! I KNOW you were fucking your little whore in Paris!” She shouted.

“My whore? What are you talking about Veronica?” He asked.

Veronica threw back her head, letting out a short mirthless laugh, “your whore Liam. Don’t play dumb, I finally realized you started being distant when we were in Paris, I thought you were fucking Madeline. Drake found me crying in the stables petting Beauty, I told him my suspicions and he had you followed. We have pictures of you and your redheaded Parisian whore. I can’t believe you acted so HURT by my sleeping with Drake TWICE when you’ve been fucking you’re little side piece since Paris!” She hollered, Drake handing her his phone with the pictures pulled up. “I should have known better really, you were so quick to make me your mistress, I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think you didn’t have more than one!” She spat, holding up Drake’s phone showing him the picture of him hugging the redheaded whore.

Liam heaved a sigh at the sight of the pictures, shit! I have no choice, I just hope Millie understands. “Fuck! Veronica, I promise it’s not what it looks like, yes I’ve been hiding something from you, but I had no choice.” He replied as he dug out his own phone pulling up the same photograph he had looked at just four days ago.

“What else could it possibly be Liam? You’ve been screwing behind my back the entire time we were engaged and even before.” She reiterated.

Liam stepped forward slowly, “this.” He said handing her his phone.

Veronica took the phone rolling her eyes, she looked down at the phone, a picture of a young girl with red hair and piercing blue eyes on the screen. “W—who is she?” She stammered, already knowing the answer, her heart plummeted to the pit in her stomach as she stared at the young girl.

“That’s Rowan, she’s my daughter. I found her in Paris, at the fashion show.” Liam explained.

Liam Flashback

‘I was stunned to find myself face to face with Millie McGregor at the Lancelin St. Claire fashion show. I had told her on multiple occasions that she could be a model, she would always tell me she wasn’t tall enough or thin enough.

A young redheaded girl ran up, “mommy!” She shouted.

“Hey baby.” Millie said as she hugged her.

I looked at her, red hair, blue eyes, I wondered. “How old is she?” I asked

I watched Millie visibly stiffen, my first clue that I might be right. “Rowan is seven.” She replied.

I could tell she wasn’t willing to answer anymore of my questions. I eyed the black beret Rowan wore, I hoped maybe I could get a strand of hair to test.

"Hi Rowan, its nice to me you I’m Liam." I said, bending slightly forward and offering her my hand.

"Hi Liam." Rowan replied, taking my hand and shaking it.

“That sure is a pretty beret Rowan, could I see it?” I asked her.

“Sure.” She replied, taking her beret off,  handing it to me.

I looked it over, and saw a strand of hair I carefully removed it, before handing the beret back to Rowan,“Thank you Rowan. That is definitely the prettiest beret I’ve seen.” I told her.

“Uh, I need to get back stage.” Millie said, before rushing back with Rowan to the dressing area, desperate to avoid my questions.

I turned to Bastien, “Bastien I need you to have this run for DNA.” I whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

We were in Shanghai by the time Bastien had the results for me, Rowan was without a doubt my daughter. I could never understand why she had just suddenly disappeared that summer, now I knew it must have been that she was pregnant with Rowan. What I couldn’t understand was how she could keep the fact that we had a child together a secret from me.

I had Bastien track down her number and address so I could contact her and figure out what to do now that I was a father.

Once I had her number, I called her, nervously pacing the room as I waited for her to answer. I didn’t know what we were going to do exactly, but I knew I needed to find a way to have my child accepted by the people and the court.

“Hello?” My thoughts were broken as she answered the phone.

“Hello Millie—”

She sighed into the phone, “Liam. I should have known you would figure it out and contact me.” She said sounding defeated.

“Why did you keep her from me Millie? I had a right to know I had a daughter.” I asked.

She sighed into the phone again. “When I found out I was nervous, I went to talk to you, figure out a way to make it work. Your father found me. He told me I couldn’t under any circumstances tell you that you were the father. I was confused I didn’t understand why I couldn’t tell you about the baby, it was a surprise for sure, but you had a right to know.” She said, pausing to sigh again.

“Your father explained to me that court was a dangerous place for someone not bred for it.” I could almost hear her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“He told me that Cordonian enemies would use our child against us. That they would threaten the baby because its father was the second son of the king. That they would use our child to try to threaten him and the country and for the safety of our child I couldn’t tell you, I had to leave and never come back. He made me promise I would never contact you again, that I would never let you know about our baby. He gave me a cheque for a lot of money, and I mean a lot of money. He told me since I had to do it on my own the least he could do was make sure that his grandchild would be well cared for.” She sighed again.

“So I left, without a word, your father scared me, I didn’t want anyone to harm our child so I left and came to Paris. A couple years after Rowan was born I started modeling. I had more than enough money to take care of us, but I wanted to do something so I started looking and somehow found myself modeling. I guess you were right that I had what it takes.” She explained.

“I should have known my father had something to do with this?!” I exclaimed.

“What do you mean Liam?” She asked.

“There was a scandal with one of the top suitors, the one I would have chosen the woman I love, turns out my father was behind it all for her ‘protection from enemies of the crown’. So we are fighting the clock, hoping to clear her name before I’m forced to marry Madeline.” I huffed.

“You mean Lady Veronica, I heard lots of whispers about her at the fashion show. So you’re saying your father was behind it?” She asked.

“Yes.” I replied .

“Huh? Well more of a reason to stay away from Cordonia and the court.” She said.

“Rowan is my daughter, I should have been in her life from the beginning. My father managed to keep her from me for the last seven years, I won’t let him keep her away from me any longer.” I stated.

“Liam, what’s happening with Lady Veronica is just proof of what your father said. I don’t want her anywhere near the court.” She responded.

“Fine, but I want to be in her life.” I pressed.

She sighed into the phone, “Liam, if I let you in her life you can’t tell anyone. I’m serious. I don’t want her anywhere near the court. If you tell anyone I won’t allow you to see her anymore.” She stated firmly.

I heaved a sigh, “but—”

“No one Liam or you won’t see her again.” She insisted.

“Fine.” I huffed, resigning myself to do whatever I needed to to see my daughter.

“I need you to promise Liam. No court, and no one can know.” She said.

“I promise.”’

“So that’s why I’ve been acting distant since Paris. And now she’ll probably keep me from seeing Rowan again, but I couldn’t have you thinking I cheated on you. Veronica, I love you so much I could never do that to you.” Liam said with tears in his eyes.

Veronica was stunned, she hadn’t expected that, and he was willing to break his promise to tell no one about Rowan just to make sure their marriage remained whatever stability that remained? Her heart broke at the thought that she may have just cost her husband what could possibly be at the moment, his only child. Her hand went to her stomach, please be Liam’s. He deserves to get everything his father made him miss before.

“Liam—”she said as her voice broke, tears welling up in her eyes, “I’m sorry I assumed the worst, and I’m sorry if I cost you your daughter. I hate that your father tried to take everything from you out of supposed fear.”

“Veronica, I get it. That picture looks damning, about as bad as the ones of you and Tariq looked. Then you add in my behavior and frequent trips just make it look worse.” Liam replied in understanding, he reached to caress her cheek, remembering their earlier behavior he dropped his hand, he had to ask. “W—were you two—” he asked his voice breaking unable to finish his question, his eyes flirting between Veronica and Drake.

Veronica’s eyes widened, “Liam, no! I mean I was upset and I didn’t want to stay in our suite and I didn’t want to be alone so I did bunk with Drake, but I promise nothing has happened since the fling and nothing will ever happen again.” Veronica responded, stepping forward, gently cupping his cheek, “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“Im sorry I doubted you my love.” Liam replied, gently brushing her hair away from her face.

Drake had felt his heart drop at her words ‘nothing will ever happen again’, she sounded so sure. The words echoed in his head, mocking him, reminding him he never had a chance with her. He felt the rage building up, anger at himself for thinking he ever had a chance with someone like her, how could I have been so stupid? He looked at the pair and suddenly felt like he was intruding. He nervously rubbed at the back of his neck, his heart cracking at the sight of them so happy, “I’ll just get out of your hair.” He said, his words falling on deaf ears, almost like they forgot he was even in the room.

Drake left the suite, pulling the door closed behind him. He leaned against the door, raking his hand over his face. How did my life become such a fucking mess? She will always love him, always choose him. He let out an audible sigh as he pushed himself back off the door. What if the baby is mine? It doesn’t matter she chose him. His head was swimming with thoughts as he headed back to his room. He couldn’t just get over her and forget his feelings could he? How would things work if the baby was his and not Liam’s? Would he be stuck living a life much like Liam was with Rowan, at the mercy of the mother? Stuck as an afterthought because her heart belonged to another man, one who would likely take up the bulk of raising his child since they were married?

Sure Drake lived at the palace, and they’d promise to include him, but would it really matter? Would he simply become a spectator in his child’s life? Would he actually get to be the father he always secretly dreamed he’d be, or would Liam become the true father leaving him to simply fade into the background? He worried that if the baby was his that life would become a series of broken promises.

A/N: Millie McGregor and Rowan McGregor are my OC’s Millie’s faceclaim is Karen Gillan and Rowan's faceclaim is Isabelle Schoonmaker.

Let me in your head part 3.

Consequences of a Fling Masterlist 

Masterlist 

Tags: @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @speedyoperarascalparty @hhiggs @imafictosexual @bella-ca @museofbooks @indiacater @hdcathcart @mrsdrakewalkerblog @mrsnazario1223 @hopefulmoonobject @liamxs-world @leelee10898

[strainingfororiginality]

Chapter 6.2 - Defiance

As the tall creature walked by them, it turned, flinging its white hair over its shoulder as it nodded enthusiastically to Sempronius.

".ניאַגאַ טיי ... עזירפּ עהט עקאַט האט עפיוו רווי ו שניי, יאַדאָט ללעוו ירעוו טהגואָף ווי"

Laughing heartily, he nodded back, returning an equally amusing retort as the being chuckled loudly before walking away.

"! סעמאַג רווי אָטני רעטנע רעה tel ט'נאָד יעהט יקקול צודזש טקופע ווי"

"Hmmm …" Quintus looked over the taller centurion, cocking his head to the right as his eyes grew wide. “You speak this language? You speak Enochian?”

"Apparently so." Sempronius said with impressive arrogance, causing Honoria to roll her eyes at his joking attitude.

"You are allowed to know this?" Quintus questioned. He assumed it was something that Man was not to know. In all of his travels through Heaven, he had not come across a single human who knew the speech.

"Of course. Why wouldn’t I?" Sempronius looked at him with intrigue. “And no, it is not forbidden. Knowledge is given freely now.”

"Where might I be able to learn this?" The dhampir probed eagerly.

"There aren’t classes, if that is what you are asking." Honoria chimed from behind. “And it is not a simple thing that humans can just learn. Roni spent years learning it all on his own. Years.” She reiterated, hinting at some past annoyance that this caused her.

"Bah. It is not that difficult a language." Sempronius started to say before correcting himself. “Well, I mean … it is the most difficult language, but it is not impossible to learn it. I don’t know it fully. No man can.”

Honoria raised a brow to Quintus, saying again. "Years."

"Would it be possible … " He paused for a moment as he replayed the conversation he overheard from his cell between the two Hayyoth when he first arrived. The secretive conversation between Ozryel and Michael. “Can you teach it to me?”

"I suppose." Sempronius shrugged. “Although, I am not sure why you would want to know it. I learned it simply to read the most ancient of archives.” He turned to regard Quintus, almost hopeful in his expression as his eyes showed that he was considering Quintus in an entirely new light. “Are you a scholar, Quintus?”

"Mister Quinlan." A voice rang from behind them, and he recognized it immediately. Since he had been here, no one has called him by any name other than “Quintus” and he cringed. Turning to face the silver-armour clad Governor, Quintus glared at him with pure disgust. “May we have a word … in private?”

"Can this wait?" Quintus sighed with tired annoyance. This day had been the first day since he arrived that he actually enjoyed himself in even the slightest way. Today, though he hated to admit it and regardless of how it had unfortunately ended in Uriel’s absolute dominance of him, he actually quite enjoyed himself. There were moments when he laughed, especially as he watched Honoria besting men two, even three times, her own size. For the first time, today, he nearly felt happy. Nearly. “I was having a conversation with--”

"No. This will not wait." The tone was commanding and his head cocked to the right as his eyes began to squint. He really didn’t feel like being dominated again and Honoria read his intentions to argue quite clearly as she placed a gentle hand on his forearm, taking his attention from Michael.

"It is fine. You can find us later." She smiled and he felt his anger abating as he nodded slowly, accepting that it might not be in his best interest to be difficult right now, as much as he wished it.

As they walked away, Sempronius turned with an uncharacteristic grin as he shouted back to Quintus. "If you are serious about learning, find me in the Halls of Knowledge."

And then they were gone, leaving him in the unpleasant company of the Governor. As he turned to the Hayyoth that stood beside him quietly, he folded his arms across his chest to convey his annoyance and Michael began to walk, waving for him to follow.

"Come with me." When Quintus just stared forward, refusing to immediately follow, Michael turned back to him with a dramatic sigh, all too audible from beneath the helmet.

"And … What happens if I refuse?" The dhampir questioned, continuing his hateful squint. “What would occur, Governor? Would you strike me again? Or perhaps just … cage me again?” All amusement from the day had faded away and he was no longer willing to just accept whatever role Michael had intended for him without proper motivation.

"Quintus, I don’t have time for one of your hissy fits right now." Michael said his proper name this time and he heard something he had never heard present in the angel’s voice before. Concern. “We don’t have time for this. Please.”

There were no further words spoken as he followed the Governor back to what looked like the same hallway that Raphael took him through when they first met. He wasn’t sure if it was the same room, because he imagined they all looked exactly the same, stretching on endlessly in each direction, but that detail mattered not.

Michael entered a room and waited for Quintus to join him, before the door was shut and the runes burned a bright amber on the walls as their privacy was ensured.

"What is it?" Quintus attempted to control any and all emotion that might escape through his voice, but his worry over what might have affected the Governor in such a way was difficult to mask. The only reason he would have taken him here to speak was if something had occurred concerning … “What has occurred?”

"Nothing." Michael assured him, unconvincingly. “I just need … some information from you. I was hoping you could help point me in a new direction.”

"What type of ... “ Quintus furrowed his brow as he bared his teeth in frustration, curling his lips up while he spoke through a snarl. “Information?"

"I’m having a bit of … “ A pause and another uncomfortable sigh. “Difficulty right now in locating someone and I was hoping you might be able to point me in the right direction."

"Locating someone? Someone?" Quintus shook his head once as he tried to peer into the darkness of the helmet’s eyes accusingly. “Who, exactly, have you lost, Michael?” He asked fiercely, but the fact that they were in this room sent worry shooting down Quintus’ spine. He already knew who had been … lost.

"I haven’t lost anyone." Michael laughed gruffly, waving his hand to dismiss the statement but the attempt at false confidence was unsuccessful and Quintus was not convinced. “It’s just difficult to see into Earth right now and I would like to check up on her, as was per our agreement.”

"You …" Quintus rolled his head to the right, as he often did when he was increasingly frustrated. Closing his eyes for a moment in at attempt to calm himself, his head swam with fury and terrible possibilities flooded his conscience. “Lost … her?”

"As I have already said, half-breed …" Michael’s own calm demeanor was melting away. “It’s simply dangerous to look for her right now and she is not where she last was. There is no reason to overreact, this is just a precaution.”

However believable that lie must have sounded before it left the Governor’s mouth, Quintus already knew better. He felt it. There was something hidden deep within the angel’s tone that belied a far greater concern than he was outwardly admitting. He would have accused him of the lie but he was unable to formulate anything other than the same sentence again as his hand went up to his forehead. "You … lost … her?"

"Stop overreacting." Michael tried, waving his hands again. “She is not lost. I just need to know where I can find her. Perhaps you aren’t the right person to ask then.”

"I agreed to this." Shaking his head, the dhampir stepped away from the angel, still holding his temple as the frustration mounted. “You … your Djinn King … assured me … that she would be watched. That if I did this … she would be kept safe.”

"Quintus, I don’t have time for this fit--"

"You assured me, Governor." Turning, he said simply as he released his head and his eyes squinted with dismay.

"That was the deal. Yes. But I can only watch her if I know where she is." Michael huffed from behind the security of his mask. “If you are … unwilling … to help me with that, then whatever happens will be on you.”

"Whatever happens? Do you honestly think me a fool, Exalted One? I am well aware of what that is ..." Quintus sneered, pointing to the staff that Michael clenched possessively within his grip. “And what it is capable of …”

"Psh, please, half-breed. You know noth--"

"I know nothing?" Quintus interrupted and for the first time, he felt as if he might have the upper hand, as aggravating as that was, given the circumstance that was unfolding before him. He knew the angel was utterly and completely full of shit. “You think I am not fully versed on what your precious gift is capable of, Governor? Do you really think that I have spent the last half a year wandering aimlessly without any purpose? That I have not gleaned as much knowledge about you and your kind as possible?”

Michael shifted slightly and Quintus felt the possibility of an upper hand only becoming more apparent. He could hear the angel’s lips part in preparation for a retort against his words, but there would be no retreat from his growing advantage. Anger flowed over him as he considered the possibility that, if this was a bluff, what else had this angel lied to him about.

"Raphael would feel any use of it, Quintus." Michael tried but the dhampir shook his head, unaccepting of the excuse.

"If that was true, then how would you look upon her if you knew where she was?" Silence. The angel was considering words and Quintus pounced again. “How did you look upon her in the past?” Silence and Quintus became enraged. “Or did you ever?!”

"Of course I did!" Michael spat, thrusting a finger into Quintus’ chest as he poked him firmly and the dhampir took a step away. “I always keep my promises, half-breed.”

"When it suits you, it seems." Quintus said with disappointment.

"Everything that I’ve done has been for her sake." Michael reminded him.

"For her sake? For her sake? Are you quite certain of that?" Quintus repeated, his rage boiling. “Or is it her father’s sake?”

"For the sake of her entire family. Regardless, her safety depends on your compliance at this moment."

"Yes, this is what you have said. Over and over and over again. Yet, with no explanation or truth to follow it. You seek to continue control over me by threatening her."

"I’m not threatening her, Quintus. It’s the exact opposite of that." Michael’s voice was ripe with frustration. “We made you a deal. A promise. The Master’s destruction for her continued existence, but I cannot uphold my end of that bargain unless I know where she is.”

"But how is this possible? How do you lose a soul? Is she ..." Quintus held in the word that nearly escaped, his eyes closing as it echoed in his mind. Oblivion. The Second Death …

"She exists still. Trust me." Michael assured him with a relieved sigh. “But … there are ways to … obfuscate yourself from Heaven’s eye.”

"Obfuscate?" Quintus tilted his head to the right. “How?”

"Does it matter?" Michael waved his hand. “It has happened, and right now, we need to focus--”

"Yes. It does matter. Or do you not recall, Right Hand?" Quintus scoffed at the angel’s attempt to drive the conversation. “Because I was told there was no way to hide from Heaven’s vengeance. That the only path forward in which she could survive was for me to leave her. Or do you not recall?”

"At the cost of the rest of the world?" Michael asked. “For the price of everyone else? If you hadn’t--”

Quintus raised his hand to silence the Governor’s pending sentence as seriousness replaced his expression. "Never assume that my sacrifice was ever made for the sake of the world of Man." He said firmly, bitterness rich in the delivery of his words. “I would have let that entire, repugnant place burn to ash if it meant that I could have stayed.”

"You would have both been on the run for the rest of your lives." Michael argued. “You would have damned her to that fate?”

"In a heartbeat, Exalted One." Quintus sneered. “And there is no doubt that she would have gladly chosen that fate, with me, if we had given her the choice.”

"I know, Quintus." Michael said slowly and gravely. “More than you realize … I know.” For the first time, there was empathy in his voice. “I understand your longing more than anyone can.”

"Yet you’ve kept this from me? That we might have been able to hide from--"

"No. I didn’t keep it from you." The angel’s shoulders relaxed as defeat replaced his frustration as he confessed. “I wasn’t aware of the ability to obfuscate until … now.”

"So …" Quintus scoffed. “You are not as powerful as I had assumed.”

"Will you help me or not?" Michael asked, ignoring the dhampir’s comment.

"Has she done this to herself or has someone else done it to her?"

"I don’t know." Michael shrugged. “That’s exactly what I need to find out.”

Quintus considered very carefully now, staring at his companion in silence for a moment. Many things rattled through his mind and though his heart told him to give full compliance, his mind tugged fiercely to consider what was happening. The angel hid much from him and now was an opportunity for clarity.

Moving to the small table in the center of the room, he sat at one of the two chairs on either side, waving an open palm for Michael to join him. Perhaps, for the first time since they’d met, they might be able to speak as equals instead of the angel holding *all *of the cards. Then let them parlay.

"You wish information from me." Quintus said. “Then I propose a give and take.”

There was discernable apprehension from Michael as he stood his ground, grunting frustration towards the dhampir and refusing the offer. "We don’t have time for this."

"Very well then." Quintus was so very tired of being controlled and so he concentrated, slowing the timing that flowed all around them and grinding it to a painfully slow churn as he smiled up to the Governor. “Time is quite malleable here, is it not?”

The Governor growled and begrudgingly taking the seat opposite of him while Quintus cocked his head left and then right, regarding his target carefully as if he were a bird of prey.

"Who is her father?" Quintus asked.

"What the fuck does that matter?"

"Information is power, is it not? I wish to know it." He stated matter of factly.

"OK. If I tell you this, you’ll help me if you can?" Michael tapped his fingers on the table. “No more delays?”

Hmmm. He very nearly agreed to the offer, but as he stared at the angel, he realized it was far too simple. This information had been hoarded with such ferocity that he doubted it would be given up so easily. Michael was clever and he should tread very carefully. "Perhaps."

"Adam Theodore Maxwell." Michael said simply, confessing it all too quickly.

That did not seem like the name of a celestial being and Quintus shook his head. "He is just a human?"

"As much of a human as she herself is."

He stared for a moment, his calmness threatening to fade, while his fingers came up to his lips, brushing them carefully as his mind raced with possibilities. "You claimed that she was nephilim. You claimed THAT is why she would be hunted down."

"She is nephil, Quintus. But that taint occurred further back in her bloodline than just her father."

"Further back?" Quintus asked. “How far?”

"Sixteen generations." Michael admitted.

This shocked him somewhat and he stared down, furrowing his brows at the table. "So, she is actually less than one one-hundredth of a percent angel?"

"Haha! Not even close." Michael laughed heavily at the fast calculation, shaking his head. “I really don’t have time to explain genetics right now, boy. We--”

"Very well." Quintus concentrated again and the time slowed even further. He had gotten quite good at this feat and he smiled as Michael’s palm hit the table with annoyance at his show of celestial prowess. “There. Now … explain it to me like I’m FIVE years old.”

"You little shit." Michael pointed a finger at him menacingly and Quintus grinned at the show of frustration. “There isn’t time for this--”

"Then by all means ..." Quintus leaned back, rocking the chair up on two legs as he grinned mischievously, waving a hand towards the door. “Please leave.”

"You are playing with her life, right now." Michael tried, but Quintus chuckled loudly at the attempt to silence his prodding. “Do you understand that?”

Tread carefully, Quintus. He told himself. He commanded himself and then, he ignored himself fully.

"No, my dear Governor, it is YOU who are playing with both of hers and mine, and given your obvious ineptitude to carry out the agreement we had in place, I now have doubts of your ability to do as you agreed to, at all. Therefore, I am not longer feeling so … complicit." Crossing his arms over his chest, he shook his head with absolute disgust. “I had mistakenly assumed that you could be trusted with her life and that is not an error that I intend to make again.”

"Do not insult me, child." Michael growled at Quintus’ lack of submission and there was a tense moment of utter silence before the dhampir spoke again.

"Like I am FIVE."

"Humans were made to breed souls." Michael started as he leaned back. “To breed and change and evolve. Their programming ... their DNA, as they’ve decided to call it … mixes and transforms when they breed, creating countless variations and combinations. Varying permutations of long and complex sequences. It is how they were made, but it’s not how angels were made. Our coding is rigid and immutable.”

When it seemed like the explanation was finished, Quintus looked at him exasperated. "Continue."

"You really want the kindergarten explanation of it?" Michael asked.

"Like I am FIVE, Governor."

"Fine. A child gets their code from a mixture of their parents. You throw it into a blender and out pops a new person, with dominant traits from each parent, right?"

"I know how genetics work." Perhaps he shouldn’t have asked for the explanation of a FIVE year old after all.

"One parent has blue eyes, the other has brown. Chances are the kid’s gonna have brown. Yes?"

"Governor--" He was going to ask for a speed up of the topic, but Michael waved for him to be quiet while he continued.

"And then you throw in chromosomes. Y and X, right? Man and woman, put them together you get a somewhat random mixture. A roll of the dice. Angel and woman, you don’t get something random at all. There is no real mixing. That is, if the angelic genes are passed along at all. It’s usually another 50/50 chance, then it’s like oil and water and everything that is passed on from the father is dominant."

"Everything?" Quintus asked in confusion. “So the child is a clone of its father?”

"No. No. It’s still a half-breed. It has characteristics from the mother, passed along the X. But, everything that comes from the Y wins and never mixes. Following me still?" Quintus knew the question was meant condescendingly but he nodded anyways, allowing the lesson to continue. “So, that child goes on to have a child of their own. Oil and water again, 50/50. Everything that is passed on from the father is dominant … again. Only the half of the genes from the mother get replaced each time. Celestial DNA is never diluted, because it always wins.”

"So …" Quintus took a deep breath in, mulling it over slowly and carefully before speaking again. “Their child is still half an angel, but now half of the new mother?”

"Yes." Michael nodded. “Familial speaking, while that child is the nephil’s son, genetically speaking, he is actually his brother. Well, half-brother. Different mothers.”

Quintus curled his lips up, not wanting to fully grasp the implications of that thought. He found himself thinking the idea of it was beyond strange, but as the reality settled in, he nodded. "So, she is nephil."

"Yes. There is no half. You either are or you are not. She is nephil and so was her father. And so was his father. And on and on … "

"Father." Quintus noted. “You continue to say son and father, yet she--”

"It’s all on the Y chromosome. It always is. Once that special chromosome is lost, then the taint of that bloodline is cured."

"But …" Quintus squinted, tilting his head to the right. “She does not have a Y.”

"Yeah … well ..." Michael nodded, thrusting his hand towards Quintus himself as justification for his next sentence. “Genetic mutations have been known to occur, haven’t they? She isn’t the first female nephil. There have been others, but the occurrence of it is rare. I don’t know what causes that … mutation. But regardless, she’s the last bit of evidence of that … indiscretion.”

A genetic mutation, like Quintus himself and he accepted the information silently, internalizing the strangeness of it all until Michael spoke again.

"Now …" The archangel tapped his fingers on the table impatiently. “Do you have any recommendations of where I should start looking--”

"Do not distract the conversation. You did not answer my question." Quintus said. “Her progenitor. Who is it?”

"No." Michael said coldly. “Absolutely not. I know your past, General. I know the atrocities that you’ve carried out and were left … undiscovered during your trial. Genocide, slavery, murder, rape, torture.” He shook his head with disgust. “I will not allow his fate, or the fate of his entire family, in your untrustworthy hands.”

Quintus smiled meekly. "I have done many terrible things. But I’ve learned that, as a Hand of God, the brunt of my indiscretions barely make a dent in your own atrocities, Great Governor." Both men stared in silence for a moment before the dhampir shrugged. “But what difference would it make?” Quintus pried. “Do I not already hold his fate in my hands by knowing of her very existence?”

"I will not betray his trust. This is final."

"Then …" Quintus considered silently as he leaned forward and tapped the desk with his index finger. Would he really be willing to play such a game? Had he been bluffing about helping the angel? “Then I will not betray her trust either.” A powerful feeling, blooming from the depths of his mind, urged him to remain patient. Something, deep within, was telling him not to trust the angel further. If she was actually in danger or not remained to be seen.

"Wait … what?" Michael shifted aggressively. “Her trust? What does that fucking mean?!” He groaned, tightening his right fist.

"It is quite clear you dislike me, Governor. Whatever your personal feelings against me are, professional relationships should be a give and take, yet all you have done is take and I feel as though I have given quite enough. Until I know that we can trust each other, I am not willing to comply with you any further."

"You little shit. This isn’t about you! This is about--"

"No. It is absolutely not about me. And given your mishandling of the situation already--"

"Your ego is clouding the gravity of the situation." Michael slammed his fist down upon on the table as it creaked under his angered strength.

"My ego kept me alive for over two thousand years." Quintus countered.

"Yeah … you. But what about your loved ones."

Taking a deep breath, Quintus closed his eyes, holding in the rage that so readily wanted to erupt. He had never been good at holding in intense emotion when his lost loved ones were used as conversational bait. Cracking his neck, he opened his eyes, staring coldly at the Hayyoth across from him.

"This is a mistake." Michael sneered. “You’re only alive because I’ve permitted it! I’m your only ally here.”

How many times had he heard that statement so far? Ozryel, Raphael, Ancharia. He was done with all the mind games and he was done with this conversation.

"My ally?" Quintus laughed out loud. “You blackmailed me to obliterate myself for some hidden, and likely political, agenda. Perhaps you are the one being blackmailed?”

"And you did it. You saved her." Michael brought his hand to his forehead as he sighed deeply. “You saved them all, Quintus. Please, if you know anything--”

"As you have explained it to me, Governor. Is it not Heaven itself that is her true enemy … and, therefore, by proxy, my enemy. The threat upon her very existence comes from your brothers, does it not? Those with whom you share an unshakeable mental bond. Explain to me how her being hidden from your continued manipulation would be a bad thing?"

"I should have known." Michael said in utter disgust. “You would just leave her to the wolves then? Did you love her at all or were you really just having fun?”

Quintus smirked, refusing the bait to antagonize him, as he stood, staring down at the defeated angel. "She is so very far from being sheep, Governor. She is one of those wolves." As he walked towards the door, he spoke calmly, grabbing the handle. “In fact, one of the strongest I have ever known, and I choose to have faith in that strength.”

As he walked through the door and down the hallway, there was mild panic building within his chest as his heart began to race. What had he just done? His bluff was entirely successful and though he was proud of himself for it, his eyes grew wide as real concern for her flooded into his soul.

He waited around long enough, remaining submissive and docile for her sake. Adhering to the deal he made for her safety. He had faith in the angel’s promise but now Heaven didn’t seem as all-powerful as he had assumed. Now he understood it was not without flaws and, therefore, it had vulnerabilities. Weaknesses that could be exploited.

He remembered Ozryel’s warning and he turned the direction he assumed the cells would be. She warned him that his Poet was not safe and he ignored that statement, assuming it was yet another method to control him. But now it was time for answers and who better to ask than the creator of knowledge itself.

There would be no further dilly dallying as he was more motivated for action than he had ever been before, as he had absolutely no plans of leaving her to any wolves. Hayyoth or otherwise.

He needed to get back to Earth at any cost, moreso now than ever before.

Note from Author:

This was an incredibly challenging chapter to write. On one hand, I very much enjoyed having the dynamic of power finally shift from Michael to someone else (Quintus in this case), but on the other hand, it was really difficult to get the flow of how that might occur out. I wound up writing and rewriting this dialog quite a few times.

Though Part 1, A Savage Inconvenience, was Quintus’ story, Dawn still played a significant role and had considerable agency. Because Part 2, An Insatiable Ache, is Dawn’s story, Quintus will also still play a significant role, with much agency as well.

Since a continuing theme of the story is that Hayyoth work best in pairs, there is a push/pull dynamic in play here that I was hoping to get across in a subtle way. Even across the divide between Heaven and Earth, they are still fundamentally connected through the Veil and because of such, they are still subconsciously affecting each other even if they don’t realize it yet. Pushing and pulling, planning and conspiring, aiding and abetting.

Anyways, I hope everyone is still enjoying the story! I’m sorry that updates have slowed down and I hope to pick back up the speed of writing. Life gets in the way sometimes and affects motivation to write, but I hope you still with me.

♥ U ALL!!!