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fenharel-enaste · 2 years ago

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The Calling of the Sea || Elendil x AFAB!Reader x Sail Master (Part 1)

Rating: +18 (smut)

Word count: 2.6k

Content/Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, semi-public fingering, dirty talk, prelude to eventual threesome.

Part 2

It’s also on AO3!

You've been eyeing your husband's best friend for some time now. Maybe they're both more perceptive than you thought, perceptive enough to have an idea of what you really want from them.

You always looked forward to meeting your husband at the end of a long day at work and going out for dinner or a drink. Sometimes, you would invite the Sail Master to join you as well, as, even if he wouldn't admit it, he needed some fun too from time to time, according to Elendil. He seemed like a rather serious man when you first met him, but being Elendil's best friend it was inevitable that you would meet him quite often, and as time went on, he opened up more and more to you. As it turned out, he was an excellent drinking partner and a wonderful company.

You also had eyes; you knew he was a man almost as attractive as your husband. Tall, so tall, broad, tan skinned, and his dark brown eyes always had a deep, wild look in them. You didn't feel guilty about finding another man attractive, it was just an innocent thought, until one day you found yourself having fantasies about him. And those weren't innocent at all.

It was an evening in your usual tavern. Elendil and his friend were talking about the day's events, but your mind wandered elsewhere. One moment you were looking into the Sail Master's eyes, and the next you were imagining them locked in yours as he ran his hardworking hands over your body, his strong body against yours. You remembered that time you saw him get off his ship with his torso exposed, how your gaze unconsciously went to the line of thick, dark hair on his abdomen, and you ran your eyes over it down to... your imagination was running wild before you knew it. Maybe you'd been drinking too much for the night.

It wasn't until you heard Elendil's voice calling your name that you were brought back to reality. They were both staring at you as if they were waiting for some response. What were they even talking about? “I... sorry, what did you say?”

The Sail Master repeated his question and you did the best you could to answer. Your voice trembled and you could barely speak clearly, aware that you were in the presence of the two most attractive men you knew, and they were both looking at you... intently. Gods, what would it be like to feel them both...? Ok fuck... You tried to keep up appearances, but the blush on your face and your quivering voice betrayed you, perhaps not to the Sail Master, but certainly to your husband. He could tell when you were horny from miles away. When you met his gaze, he had his eyes on yours and a playful smile on his face. He knows. You looked away and blushed even more, your heart pounding as if it would burst out of your chest.

Elendil seemed to notice your discomfort and decided to break your awkward silence. "Well, my friend, it's getting late, I'm afraid. I think it would be best if we call it a night, don't you?" Finally. “Yes, of course!” He said before leaving the table with you and bidding farewell. “Till the next time, my lady.” He bowed his head and looked at you so piercingly it almost felt as if he could read your thoughts. You could barely think of anything coherent to respond with, so you merely returned the gesture, fixing your gaze on the floor before turning and rushing out of the tavern with your husband close behind you.

“Are you feeling alright, love?” Elendil inquires as soon as you leave the establishment, the cold street air even colder on your heated skin. “Yes... it’s nothing, I just got a bit overwhelmed with all that noise inside. I’m better now.” It was the first thing that came to your mind, and you tried to sound as convincing as possible. And Elendil said nothing more about it, simply pulled you close to him, gently kissed your forehead, and held your hand as you made your way home.

The walk back was not as uncomfortable as you anticipated, the streets were still full of people enjoying a drink with friends and nightly street performances, there was something to comment or shared memories on every corner. But the atmosphere was very different as soon as you entered your house. It was dead quiet all of a sudden. And you didn't know what to say to relieve the tension, so you went straight to your bedchamber and began to undress. You could think more clearly in the morning.

Then, you felt warmth on your shoulder, a warmth that slowly moved up to your neck and hands that gently caressed your arms. Your eyes closed involuntarily as you felt your husband's kisses on your sensitive skin. "Elendil..." You sighed and turned to face him. "Let me ease your thoughts, my love." He said before pressing you against him and kissing you deeply. The warmth of his tongue against yours and his hands all over your body were enough to make you forget everything that had happened, you needed him.

You brought your hands to his shirt and hastily removed it. You soon did the same with his trousers as you left wet kisses down his torso, lower and lower, until you knelt at the level of his already hard cock. But his hand cupped your face, stopping you before you could even have a taste of him. You looked at him, puzzled. “Not today, stars, I need you now.” He said grabbing you off the floor, turning you over and pushing you onto the bed. Ok fuck, this is going to be fun... And you gasped as you felt his lips travel up your back, giving you goosebumps, from your bottom to your shoulders, to your neck, moving closer to your ear.

“Should we invite our friend to visit us sometime, love?” Your heart skipped a beat at his words and you froze. He definitely knows. You felt the world falling apart, was he angry with you? It didn't seem so, but...

“Oh don't worry, my stars, it doesn't bother me in the least. I understand.” He whispered reassuringly and you sighed in relief, but you felt so very, very embarrassed. “I... I don’t know what to say...” You said in a trembling voice. “Easy... just tell me, what were you thinking at the tavern?”

What!? You couldn't tell your husband about the fantasies you had with another man, you just couldn't.... "I'm sorry... Oh fuck!" You gasped as you felt his fingers sliding in through your entrance. “Shh, I’m not judging, my sweet... I’d love him to have a taste of you, actually...” You let out a shuddering sigh of pleasure, not only from his fingers stretching you open, but also from the thoughts his words planted in your mind. “Wouldn’t you want that, hmm?”

Yes, yes yes... you really, really wanted that in fact. You trusted your husband, you knew that wasn’t a trick question, he really wanted you to say it. So you let go...

“Yes... yes Elendil, I want it...” You admit in defeat. “Hmm it wasn’t that hard, was it not? Tell me, my love, what else would you want him to do to you?” He demanded as he quickened the speed of his fingers, curling them just where you needed them most. The words tumbled from your lips because of the overwhelming pleasure, not even thinking about them. “I need... I need him to fuck me, Elendil... please...” You were coating the captain’s fingers with your fluids now, you were so soaked you could hear the sinful sound his fingers made inside you.

Suddenly, he withdrew his fingers, grabbed your hips and pulled them backwards, making you get on all fours and pressing your head against the mattress with his hand. “Do you imagine him doing this to you as well, hmm?” He asked in a deep voice just before entering you all the way in at once. You let out a loud and long whimper, unable to avoid the mental image of the Sail Master behind you, gripping your hips tightly with his strong hands and ramming into you, just as your husband was doing at that moment, without any warning, just fucking you roughly from the very beginning. You could barely speak, only moan and scream. “Yes... that’s what I thought, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Elendil growled.

His hips kept slamming hard against you and you arched your back so he could reach deeper, your face still against the bed, drenching it with your tears of pleasure. “Look at you moaning like that, what would he say if he saw you like this, so desperate for him? Fuck, what I’d give to see that. Tell me love, would you want us to share you?” Just hearing those words, what they meant, that he was willing to do it, was enough to take you over the edge. And you came hard. And the loud cries coming out your lips gave Elendil the answer he sought.

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

It was only a week before your next meeting in your favourite tavern. You had not really discussed the matter again since the night of your last meeting with your friend, except for the occasional small teasing from your husband, but never in earnest. You assumed it had remained a little fantasy you both shared in a night you drank too much. However, you couldn't but notice how your companion seemed closer to you than usual, and not just by being more talkative. You couldn't help but think the worst.

When he offered to fetch more drinks, you took the chance to ask Elendil if he'd mentioned anything to him, and he grinned behind his tankard. “It wasn’t necessary, love. He’s well aware after that display of lust in your face last week.” Your mind went foggy, how were you supposed to look him in the eye now? How could you respond to that? This was too embarrassing to bear.

“Oh, my dear, you shouldn’t worry about that.” He said promptly when he noticed your shocked expression. “In fact... maybe you’d like to know he’s interested.” By the Valar, you didn't know if you wanted to be swallowed up by the earth right there at that revelation or if it was the best thing you'd heard in a long time. Besides, Elendil had a mischievous grin on his face that confused you, didn't it bother him? He really was willing to...

“But... are you sure?”

“I barely could think about anything else these last days, love.” His eyes were full of arousal now. “Do you want this?” Oh stars, a voice inside you was begging you, imploring you to say yes, but this was.... huge, you weren't sure if you'd be ready. You were definitely going to need the drinks approaching your table in the Sail Master’s hands... those big hands.

When your friend joined you, you hardly could think straight. The conversation with Elendil repeated itself over and over in your mind as the two of them went on talking as always. You just could sip at your beer, unable to get what might happen that night out of your mind.

You weren't sure how it happened, but it was probably because of the alcohol that you unconsciously brushed your leg lightly against the Sail Master's through the slit of the dress you were wearing that night. You felt the urge to pull away, but something in you demanded that it remain there. So that you did.

It took only a few seconds before a warm hand rested on your leg, and that same warmth ran through your body, making you lift your face to meet the Sail Master's eyes, dark, full of lust and promises of what he could do to you if you accepted him.

“Is this alright, my lady?” Yes, of course, you thought. But your gaze turned to Elendil, who was watching you, amused, drinking from his jug. “He asked you a question, love, is that alright?” And that’s when you knew that he was really willing for this to happen. His question allowed your body to free itself from guilt, to relax, and you made your choice.

“It is...” You sighed.

“Good.” He said before his hand resumed its upward journey, slowly, painfully slowly. You closed your eyes to the sensation and let yourself go. All the warmth of your body gathered in your inner thighs, making you squirm on the bench and close your legs just to feel the friction you craved. But another hand, on you right leg this time, stopped you, and Elendil pull from it you keep you spread open for his friend’s hand.

You couldn’t believe this was really happening. You felt yourself getting wet and they had barely touched you. You knew what kind of night was ahead of you. And you wanted it. “Please...” You whimpered.

“There is it... Elendil already told me about your beautiful voice when you plea.” And he finally reached your underwear, barely touching you through it before slipping his hand underneath, gently stroking your clit. Your moans were muffled by the noise of the establishment, but not for your lovers.

The Sail Master placed his free hand on your chin to turn your face towards his and kiss you. It wasn't a delicate kiss, he knew you weren't a lovesick young girl having her first kiss. He knew exactly what you wanted from him, so he led it, devouring your mouth and exploring it with his tongue, making your head spin with delight, he tasted so fucking good.

Your kiss didn't stop him from caressing you, in fact, it didn't take long before you felt one of his calloused fingers playing with your entrance and sliding in, making you moan into his mouth and rock your hips towards him. At that moment, you were thankful that your table was in one of the more secluded corners of the tavern and that it hid what was going on underneath it.

A hand different from your kisser's brushed a strand of hair away from your face to place it behind your ear, and you heard Elendil's irresistible voice mere inches away from you. “This is going to be a long night for you, my love.” He promised lewdly as he brought his hand to your now unused clit, playing with it as another man's fingers found your sensitive spot inside you, moving much faster now.

It was so easy for them to make that familiar pressure build up in your belly. Gods, there were a couple of people standing too close. You'd been burying your face in Elendil's neck for a while now to hide your flushed face and watery eyes, but you weren't going to be able to hide your cries if you came. Yet your lovers' hands worked too well together, they were determined to make you cum right there. Seconds later, your walls inevitably closed around the fingers inside you and the pressure was released through every fibre of your body. The captain's mouth captured yours before your uncontainable screams gave you away.

What... by all the stars in the sky, what have just happened? You didn't know how to begin to describe what you'd felt once your orgasm faded. You just knew you wanted to find out what else those two men could do to you in the privacy of a bedroom. They had you trapped in a state of mind where you'd be capable of doing anything they wished from you. So you looked into your husband's eyes, which were waiting for the answer he already knew you were about to give him.

“Let’s go home. Now.”

Taglist: @starlady66 @thesolarangel @grinkitty @lazymeriadoc @bananaphanta @nyctophilic0vitnir @wint3r-h3art @aamon47 @eremeldanin @shimichoko @hypermanga 💗

#elendil #elendilf #elendil x reader #sail master x reader #sail master #elendil fanfic #sail master fanfic #x reader #the rings of power #elendil smut #sail master smut

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princevictoriapunk · 8 months ago

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Kid Pirates hcs #2

🌹ꦽꦼ̷ More Kid Pirates hcs 1 | 2 | 3 | 4.1 - 4.2 | 5 | 6 | 7

🌹ꦽꦼ̷ Manda — @silvernyxchariot ; Solace — @ramdeviltart ; Osiris — @/idonthaveacluewhatsgoingonhere

Hcs under the cut for length ✨️

🌹ꦽꦼ̷ On an island, the Kid Pirates' chef got into a minor issue with some other pirates. One of them had glared at her for too long, what she took as an attempt from them to start a fight. The crew wanted to move on, since they were rushing to set sail again. Kid, Killer, Solace, Heat, and her were out together to retrieve the last things they had to restock. Eventually, Light had switched into her Zoan form to attack the pirates. She didn't hear Killer calling for her to stop throwing a hiss fit and to catch up, so Kid walked over to the group. He scooped her up like she was nothing but a small pet cat and threw her over his shoulder. The Vivacious Puma allowed him to proceed; It took a few moments until she went from yelling, growling, cursing, struggling and wiggling to just resting on her head on her paws, ears relaxing, tongue sticking out in a blep, starting to purr and relaxing against him after turning back to human. When they returned to the others, Killer only sighed and scolded her for causing such a ruckus when they're in a hurry. After laughing at how she almost immediately calmed down, Kid figured he'd allow his crew to pick her up and carry her like this whenever they need to prevent a similar situation.

🌹ꦽꦼ̷ A lot of daily things became rather embarrassing and uncomfortable for Kid for the first weeks to months since he got disarmed. Having noticed his struggles, Light started subtly helping him until he directly told her to help him. Either way, his ears would flush a little, and he'd get grumpy whenever he had to try asking her to lend him a hand, but she promised him not to tease him for it. For some things, they only needed to exchange a look, a nod of the head, or just any subtle gesture to communicate after a while.

🌹ꦽꦼ̷ Mosh is known to be one of the tanks of the crew. Alas, he not only can take a lot of hits without going down immediately, he also hands out a lot of damage himself whilst utilising his Zweihänder he can swing with just one hand. Before he had joined the Kid Pirates, he used to be a blacksmith in the town he grew up at. This got him the same position on the crew later on, but Mosh isn't above also helping their shipwright Eun and the others when fixing the ship, nor when he is asked to fix someone's weapon (or craft them a new one). He doesn't mind carrying any heavy things either, as he's strong enough to handle it on his own. Sometimes, just sometimes, their chef abuses this fact when she's going on a shopping spree. Overall, he's a rather flamboyant person as he likes loud colours and flashy designs, stating that those are exactly what describe him. In most cases, others would have to remind him to use his indoors voice, as his volume is rather big. Mosh tends to pick up anyone much smaller than him once he first spots them, so he doesn't just plow them over - focussing especially on Doflamingo's and Kid's partners as well as Solace as they're the shortest of the bunch. He apologises when they start struggling but explains to them every time that he wouldn't want to squish them if he didn't see them. Man's got a heart of gold, radiates big himbo energy, and is part of the big tiddy committee. Some people think that he might be as straight as a pole, but they forget he's part of the rowdy Kid Pirates; and thus rather as straight as a pole someone just was heavily beaten up with. Mosh does identify as masc, probably with the tendency to use he/him and they/them interchangeably, but he's more on the poly and pansexual side with little to no preference for his partners' gender.

🌹ꦽꦼ̷ Oscar, Osiris, Emma, and Eun function as those with probably the most brain cells, next to Killer, Manda, and Light. The other members of the crew usually make fun of the blond, though, since he's the most laid-back one of them. They also call him "grandpa" for reading the newspaper, sipping some coffee every morning, without fail. Eun often is considered the wine 'aunt', as they tend to sip their wine and just watch the others (primarily Killer and Oscar) handle the "children". Albeit the Fishman hybrid isn't that much older than some other members of the crew, they call their crewmates "brats" majority of the time, claiming that the others aren't their responsibility to keep in line. Emma is generally one of the calmest ones, bringing the crew together even when there are internal fights breaking out within the little cliques of the crew. As for Osiris, she was raised by the Marine (thus having learnt quite a lot about various topics). That aside, they share their taste in music: A little bit of everything with classic rock mixed in it.

🌹ꦽꦼ̷ Kid Pirates pet edition! If they had enough space on the Victoria Punk, some of them would have pets. Kid would want to keep a fighting and/or hunting dog breed and a bull, most likely. Killer would be the type to keep a hedgehog. Heat has a few different lizards and snakes. Wire takes care of a bat that has randomly nested in his room one day. Mohawk has ferrets and a possum. Oscar keeps a goat. Noe would want to keep a bear, presumably. Eun definitely would get a blob-fish. If she could, Light definitely was going to keep all the stray cats she comes across - but she only has a black cat named Salem. Aside from keeping Ziggy the racoon, Kira would help Light, though he might try to get more cats and raccoons for himself in general, too. Chrom is the type of person who'd like to keep something bigger, such as a rhino because he thinks they're cool. Grunge's pet since his days at the Shadow Bazaar is a Blue Pit Viper named Sir Lapis Lazuli, often just nicknamed Lapis. Osiris' black and grey ball python is named Mercury (Hg).

🌹ꦽꦼ̷ Since he's somewhat clingy, Kira will seek the company of his crewmates when he feels lonely. It doesn't really matter whether that is the case while he's fixing or making some clothes, when he feels anxious and needs distraction, or just when he wants to relax after a rough day. The tailor tends to just plop down next to whoever is available. In most cases, that is his boyfriend Mohawk, their shipwright Eun, or their cook Light. Mohawk will just babble about what comes on his mind to entertain and/or distract the redhead. Eun tends to pick him up and either cradles him like a child, or when they're working, they put him down somewhere above or next to them so they can talk about things. He watches Light make prepare some snacks for them from the door frame whilst talking to her about what's up, though she also has him sit down in front of one of the few mirrors on board of the Vicky, so she can see what she's doing while braiding his hair and they can see each other's mimics.

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yellow-faerie · 2 years ago

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#22 with gil-galad son of curufinrod? with either curufin or finrod your choice! :)

You know I was just thinking about this au when you sent this ask? I love writing it so thank you for sending it in!

Send me a prompt from this list.

22 - "I could never hate you. Not truly."

Gil-Galad has been reborn for a long time when word reaches him, in the far flung lighthouse in which he took up residence, that his father had been reborn as well.

Not Finrod, for he had left Mandos' halls before Gil-Galad had even died and often sailed up the coast to see him with mothers and little half siblings and occasionally other family whenever he could.

No, not Finrod.

It is in his brother's most recent letter that Celebrimbor tells Gil-Galad that Curufin had left Mandos' halls for the land of the living and had been living quietly in their grandmother's house for the time being.

It's not public knowledge yet, Celebrimbor had written, and I do not think he knows that I know. I am only aware for Nibenaes is always away of the comings and goings of all the House from how close she is with great-grandmother Míriel.

So Gil-Galad hadn't been expecting anything, especially not as the months turned ever on and there was neither sight nor sound of his father.

Tindómiel and he are cleaning out the great fire pit while the sun is high and boats don't need their direction when there's an angry shout downstairs, something slamming and then silence.

"Finellach!" Eleniquë calls, her voice slightly strained. "Get down here, your father's at the door!"

Tindómiel shares his confusion. "Finrod visited just three weeks ago, I thought he would be in the Valmar by now."

"I guess something must have happened." Gil-Galad rubs his hands on the front of his apron and goes to the ladder. "You'll be OK finishing up on your own?"

"Shouldn't take too long - although ask if Helcaear wouldn't mind helping me moving the logs up here. Give cousin Finrod my love."

The first sign that something is wrong is the complete lack of conversation. Something about Finrod was that he could talk his way into the hearts of literally anyone, and regularly did it - in fact, he'd been up to visit so much that even Helcaear enjoyed conversation with him.

The second and third signs appear at nearly the same time; as Gil-Galad looks around, he sees the downright murderous expression on Helcaear's face and the weirdly adoring one on Eleniquë's.

Gil-Galad scrunches his face in confusion as he untangles his feet from the rug at the bottom of the ladder and turns around.

"Atya, aren't you meant to be visiting your grandmother-"

It all starts to make sense when it's not Finrod standing there.

Curufin still stands tall, his grey eyes still as hard as flint, but there's a certain unsurety to his posture that makes it seem very likely that he might run out the still open front door at any moment.

He doesn't look at Eleniquë who had once worked as a foot soldier for him, nor at Helcaear who's home he once helped destroy.

He just looks at Gil-Galad as if he couldn't believe that he was standing right there.

"My mother's depiction does not do justice to the ellon you have grown into," Curufin says eventually, breaking the silence.

Helcaear makes a sound and Gil-Galad is distinctly aware that he should probably do something lest a fight starts in the front hall.

"Tindómiel needs help with the logs," he says to his coworkers, keeping his expression painfully neutral. "We'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

He turns on his heel, hoping that Curufin is following him but unable to turn around and look. He can feel the burning gazes of both Helcaear and Eleniquë on his back, and he's already thinking of how he's going to respond to their questions later.

How to explain that he's a part of the infamous House of Fëanor, to admit to being the High King Gil-Galad, to explain his childhood to them and every complicated feeling he holds for his family deep in his heart.

Running away - running here - hadn't worked the first time.

"Would you like some tea?" Gil-Galad asks as he closes the heavy kitchen door behind them, just in case there are any eavesdroppers on the other side.

He's still keeping his face in that trained neutrality, the expression he practised endlessly as king.

"No. Thank you."

Gil-Galad wants some tea though. He leaves Curufin standing awkwardly near the door to boil the kettle and find his favourite mug and the best tea and is slow as he stirs honey in.

It's only then that he turns around, feeling in control again.

Looking once more at Curufin leaves that control in shreds. It makes him feel like a small child who's found his way under his sharp judgement yet again.

"Why are you here?" Gil-Galad asks, more accusatory than he had intended to ask it.

He clenches his hands tighter around his mug and they burn.

"I met with your father a fortnight ago," Curufin says and Gil-Galad can hear the careful way he's stepping around his words. "He told me I should come see you."

"You are here at Atya's request?"

That honestly makes sense when Gil-Galad thinks about it but it leaves him feeling weirdly disappointed.

"No," Curufin says, shaking his head, "I am here because you deserve an apology, even though you undoubtedly hate me."

Curufin pauses, as if waiting for Gil-Galad to say something, but he waits in vain as Gil-Galad takes another sip of tea.

"You and Celebrimbor - neither of you deserved to have your family torn apart because of your parents' actions."

"Your actions," Gil-Galad corrects, perhaps a little harshly for - by his own admission - Finrod took up some of the blame for how their years in Nargothrond ended.

"My actions," Curufin agrees a little too readily. "I have made a lot of mistakes in my life - swearing the Oath, killing in it's name - but you and your brother are most definitely not among them."

Gil-Galad's mouth tastes like ash. "If you try to claim that leaving us in Nargothrond was to protect us," he starts, his voice a little shaky, "I shall remind you that we both nearly died in the ransacking."

"I was never going to," Curufin says vehemently and Gil-Galad finds that he believes him. "It was cowardly, thinking I could leave you there so that you would be free."

"Celebrimbor and Finduilas are the reason I was ever free from you," Gil-Galad says, remembering the way the two of them had managed to manipulate Nargothrond gossip to removing mention of Curufin from his parentage. "You just left and made it easier."

"Celebrimbor told me."

Gil-Galad takes a sip of his tea, revelling in the way it burns his tongue and stops him from getting lost in the melancholy of his childhood.

"I never forgot, not once," Gil-Galad tells him plainly. "I used to ask Celebrimbor to tell me stories about you and Atya and my uncles, and he hated doing it but he still did it."

For once in his life, Curufin doesn't seem to have anything to say. Maybe that was his whole apology.

There's this memory, that Gil-Galad has, of hiding behind Celebrimbor's legs as his father and his uncle rally the people of Nargothrond behind them and his father had had so many words then.

Maybe it was because he wasn't baring his whole soul back then.

Maybe it was easier for him to talk a whole people into a frenzy than it was for him to have an honest conversation with his son.

A moment passes where they just stare at each other, and then another.

"I should go," Curufin says and turns to the door.

And that's the thing that gets Gil-Galad the most.

"Again?" He asks, ignoring the lump in his throat and the hitch in his voice and the heat welling at the back of his eyes. "You're going to just up and leave again? You can't even give me an address or-or anything?"

Curufin turns around and looks - Gil-Galad laughs despite himself - terrified, all because Gil-Galad is crying now, in that ugly way that will have his face all red and blotchy and his nose bunged up.

"You just...you come and you go and you never make a fucking effort."

Curufin is frozen, the hand that was on the door handle falling to his side.

"What do you want me to do?" He asks, soft and tentative.

Eru above, there is so much that Gil-Galad would want him to do.

"Right now?" He says, putting his mug down lest his shaking hands pour it all down his front. "I would like a hug."

Curufin is still shitty at hugs. He's all awkward corners and edges that don't quite fold into something comforting, and yet...

Gil-Galad buries his face into the coarse fabric of Curufin's travelling shirt and starts crying even harder.

There's another memory Gil-Galad has.

It's dark, the lights in his room all off but the one by his light dimmed to almost darkness. His father sits on the edge of his bed and he's running his hand through Gil-Galad soft curls.

Gil-Galad is somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, and he never quite worked out if Curufin really pressed a kiss to his forehead before he left or if the grief of finding out the next morning that his remaining father had left as well had conjoured the memory in his head.

He doesn't know.

All the time in his childhood that he had known Curufin, he hadn't done gentle affection. If Gil-Galad ever wanted a hug and comfort, he ran to Finrod or Celebrimbor or Finduilas or even his uncle Tyelko.

When he scraped his knee, Finrod would kiss it better but Curufin would wrap it carefully in a bandage and tell him to be more careful next time.

Curufin distracted him when he was sad rather than talking it through, he was painfully practical where Finrod nurtured and smiled and was full of silly metaphors.

Gil-Galad sometimes wonders what attracted the two of them together.

But this hug, the first one since Gil-Galad must have been really small, reminds him that Curufin is still that painfully practical elf. The apology is so him, so stupidly perfect and planned that it makes Gil-Galad want to scream.

"Your apology was based on a false assumption," he says, sniffing and still hiding his face in Curufin's shoulder. "I could never hate you. Not truly."

"Really?" Curufin sounds genuinely incredulous.

Gil-Galad sniffs again and pulls away to rub his nose with the back of his sleeve. "I missed you and I was angry and you have done some really shitty things but I never hated you."

Elrond - one of the few people who knew his actual parentage - had asked him that once, during his continuing angsting over the Maglor Situation (as it had been deemed).

Gil-Galad had told him that whenever he tried, all he could think of was his calloused hands tying a bandage around his knee or the random information that attached itself to the stupid problems little children have or the softness of a kiss to the forehead.

Maybe he was too young when Curufin left to have grown to hate him, and too old to not have fond memories, and the two had mingled together until he had this idea of a father.

Maybe if he forgives Curufin for leaving and for breaking up their family so dramatically, he will find that the man is actually insufferable and grow to hate him.

That, Gil-Galad thinks, is worth the risk.

"Would you like some tea now?" He asks, going to put the kettle back on.

Curufin accepts the tea but declines the offer of a bed for the night - likely wise, considering that Helcaear would probably try and kill him - citing that he left Huan and Celegorm out in the snow somewhere and that they would be returning to civilisation together.

"He probably wouldn't even notice if I left him out there," Curufin says, significantly less tense as Gil-Galad leads him to the door than when he had been let in. "But I would rather not lose him."

"Is that likely to happen?"

Curufin shrugs, making it look remarkably eloquent even in rough travel clothes. "He gets bored very easily."

"Alright then, I'll see you in a few months?"

"I'll send you a letter when Nelyo and Ammë decide on a date." Curufin rolls his eyes. "It's a yearly debate with how many people you have to organise."

Gil-Galad smiles. "Will Atya be there?"

"He might turn up. You should ask him yourself."

Gil-Galad nods, putting that on his mental list of things to do. He opens the door, waves his father away and then he's alone again.

"Is he gone?"

"Fuck," Gil-Galad exclaims, almost falling against the wall. "Tindómiel, don't sneak up on someone like that."

"Sorry," Tindómiel says, not looking very apologetic. "I came down to ask if you wanted any of the roasted hazelnuts Helcaear is making." She lowers her voice theatrically. "If I was you, I'd say yes. He's been pissy all afternoon that we brought a kinslayer into the house."

"He's not going to let it go, is he?"

"Better find yourself a good apology Fin."

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fkevin073 · 2 years ago

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How do you think things would have played out between Jace, Alys and Aemond's in a world in which Alys is Alicent and Viserys'daugther? 👀

Ouu 👀 I've been asked about this before actually as a prompt, and it's been lingering in my mind for a while.

hmm. I think there's definitely a lot of possessiveness/jealousy going around. If things are switched around and alys (as aemond's sister) is closer to Jace than to him, there'd be even more tension between them. But I think Alicent wouldn't let her daughter get too close to Jace considering the state of her relationship with Rhaenyra at the time.

I mean first of all, Alysanne would have the full on Targaryen look. I kind of like the idea of Alicent and Viserys having one kid that inherits her colouring, but we can set that aside for now.

I mean I think Aemond would want to marry her. He's obsessed with being seen as a "true" Targaryen and proving his birthright, so marrying her kind of "completes" that image. But because Aemond is a second son, and Alysanne is a second daughter, Otto probably wants to marry them elsewhere. Helaena and Aegon marry for the symbolism of it all, so they'd probably be looking to marry Aemond/Alysanne elsewhere to make alliances.

Would Alysanne be in love with Aemond?

... Unclear. I think there'd definitely be tension between them, and I think they'd be the closest out of all the green siblings. Aegon is well, Aegon, and Helaena has her kids, so for a while all they have is each other. I head canon that Alysanne wasn't there when Aemond lost his eye because Alicent was keeping her close (because Alysanne I think was friendlier with the Strong boys).

BUT!

How about this: there's a role reversal here. When the Blacks come to King's Landing to deal with Vaemond's petition, Viserys demands that Alysanne marry Jace. Of course there's an outcry about this, but it happens, and instead of Jace being made to stay in King's Landing first, they go to Dragonstone. Of course Aemond is furious, but he takes some of his anger out on her (even tho she didn't do anything), but eventually she goes.

to make things juicy, I think Alysanne would grow to love Jace during her time there, even though she might not want to. She doesn't have a dragon, but he doesn't think less of her for it, even though he had done the Pink Dread with Aemond. I think part of that was also Jace reacting to Aemond hinting at his muddy parenthood (which I'm sure happened off screen).

But it's definitely not smooth sailing. Alysanne is fiercely loyal to those she loves, but Jace also points out that Aemond wasn't innocent that night on Driftmark. I think Aemond would definitely twist things to make himself look better when she asks him what happened. I mean who would blame him? He wants his sister to be on his side and he's a kid who lost his eye. He feels like he's the victim, and in many ways he is.

As for Alysanne falling for Jace - I think she can't help it. Though I love Alicent, I can see why the Greens would be envious of Rhaenyra's kids. While I think Rhaenyra has more shortcomings as a mother than many in the fandom would like to admit (even tho I love her too), she's definitely (from what we've seen) more compassionate/patient/affectionate with her kids. I don't think that's Alicent's fault, per se. She was only 14 when she became a mom in the show, and she was maritally r***d. Her and Rhaenyra were in wildly different positions when they became mothers.

But I think seeing that with Jace and being on the receiving end of his affection/care opens her heart a lot more. Seeing him with his brothers shows her a kind of love she hasn't really seen/experienced. She loves her family - of course she does. But the Greens are wildly more dysfunctional, almost crueler with their love. Jace's is much purer, and a bit more stable.

I think that's part of the reason why Aemond loves Alysanne to begin with in IKYLAO. As a kid, she was gentle with her love and affection, and he didn't really get that elsewhere, and she has this undying devotion for her brothers. I think when you've been touch starved your whole life, or when you receive affection from your parents rarely, when you find an open source of it that wants to give it to you, you never want to let it go.

But yeah, Alysanne goes to Dragonstone and slowly falls in love with Jace. It also gives her and Rhaenyra a chance to get to know each other a bit better. Since Alysanne is in their hands when Viserys dies, I'm thinking the war doesn't happen right away. Mostly because when Otto starts to speak of treason Alicent shuts that right down because she knows Daemon would kill Alysanne, and I also think seeing how well Jace treats Alysanne would soften Alicent a lot more and realize that despite their disagreements, Rhaenyra (overall) raised her boys to be good people.

Idk if you've ever watched the show the White Princess? It's giving Henry and Elizabeth vibes (minus the gross weird stuff from episode one)

But yeah, still a lot of tension between Alysanne, Jace and Aemond. Maybe Aemond refuses to marry, or he ends up marrying Baela? Or maybe he just winds up with Alys Rivers in this universe too.

omg this has become so long so sorry! but there could be other ways this goes.... thanks for the ask!

#i kept you like an oath #Jace x alysanne #aemond x alysanne

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animeomegas · 2 years ago

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Monarch im in love w Hadrian already tell me more literally anything plz-

Also OMG YOU FINALLY MOVED! YAYYYYY I hope you’re feeling better monarch🥺🥰🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Ahh, I'm so happy that you like him, queen!!! And yes! I moved, I'm still settling in, but it's going decently :) @queenondeezmatatas

(Omg, I have this in my drafts for ages, and I only just noticed it 😫 I’m so sorry, queen!!)

Warnings: Storm mention

...

"Don't forget to secure the sail after you bring it down!" you shouted as loud as you could so that you could be heard over the wind. "It breaks and we all die!"

"Yes, Captain!"

"Nix, work out a shift for steering! This storm doesn't look like it's going to be too bad, but we still need people steering the waves. Two at a time, and don't forget to tie yourself onto the deck!"

"Maddy and I will stay on deck first," Nix said firmly. "Everyone else, below deck, try and get some sleep and if there's a chance, we'll swap out steering duties in an hour or two."

You focused your gaze on the sky, noting the dark clouds, the direction of the wind and what it looked like in the distance. It didn't look too bad, you'd certainly survived much worse, but it wouldn't do to get complacent, so your storm protocol was in full swing.

"Alright, Nix, Maddy, good luck," you nodded at them both. "You're two of our best sailors, you'll do a great job, I'm sure.

"The rest of you, finish your tasks and head below deck!"

When you returned to your quarters about ten minutes later, Hadrian was sitting upright in your bed, looking more than a little tense. His eyes locked onto you the second you walked in.

"What's going on?" he sounded nervous.

"Just a small storm-"

"A storm?!" Hadrian yelped, standing up from the bed and walking towards you. "But we're at sea, how- what-"

"It's alright," you reassured, holding up both hands to cut him off. "We've suffered much worse and been fine, relax."

Hadrian didn't look like he was going to relax even a little bit, but as he opened his mouth, a distant rumble of thunder cut him off. He jumped like a rabbit, letting out a little squeak as the boat rocked.

"You should lay back down," you said, guiding him back to your bed and encouraging him to lean back. "The rocking could topple you or make you feel sick, um, being pregnant and all."

Hadrian allowed you to tuck him back in, but as you pulled away, his hand lurched out and grabbed you by the wrist. The first sound of rain drops began as you looked at each other.

"Where are you going?" he said, eyes frantic. "It's not safe out there."

"Hey, it's barely even a storm, alright? There's no need to be scared."

"I'm not scared!" he denied immediately, letting go of your wrist like it was burning him. "Storms are dangerous, that's all."

Your lips curled into an amused smile at his denial. He huffed at you, turning over in the bed and tucking the blankets around himself.

"I'm going to sleep," Hadrian said, huffing once more.

The rain picked up, pounding against the ship from all sides and making an awful racket. You weren't concerned; the ship was designed to handle water, it was the wind and the subsequent waves that would be the problem, and the wind was staying relatively mild.

You watched Hadrian’s shoulders tense periodically as the rain picked up and then abated over and over again. He still refused to turn back over or ask for help though, something you admittedly found rather endearing.

Before you realised what you were doing, you picked up a book from your desk and sat at the head of the bed. Hadrian turned around to squint at you suspiciously.

“I thought I’d read something to you, take your mind of the storm a bit,” you offered, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “I’m probably not as good as you are, with all the fancy tutors you had, but I’m not bad at reading aloud.”

Hadrian blinked at you for a moment, mouth slightly open like he wasn’t sure what to say. Eventually he offered a tentative smile.

“That would be nice, if you wouldn’t mind. Not that I’m scared of storms though,” he added quickly, crossing his arms over his chest, resting them on his bump.

“Alright then,” you smiled back, settling in next to him and opening the book to the first page. “Chapter one-”

#oc hadrian cullermay #hcs #headcanons #prose #x reader #original fiction

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run-me-through-but-not-like-that · 3 years ago

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Just wanted to pop in to say i absolutely adore all your writings, and you are feeding the izzy lover community so well!!

If you’re not too busy, could you write something for izzy with a reader who is transmasc, and how he would treat them and (hopefully) eventually come to see and appreciate them for who they are? Sorry if it’s a little too specific^^

Izzy Hands discovering the reader is Transmasc:

While sailing on the Queen Anne, you manage to keep your secret for a long time.

The crew tends to just mind their own business and if you keep to yourself enough they're not going to pay you too much attention.

And as long as you're a competent sailor and pirate, Izzy Hands isn't going to pay you too much mind.

Stay out of the way, complete your tasks to a good standard, don't cause trouble and you'll blend right in with the crew.

You do, and you do it well. You're a member of Blackbeard's crew, even forming a bit of a brotherhood with other members of the crew.

It wasn't a friendly workplace but it was just fine for you.

Everything had been going well, working for you. It wasn't an easy life but you adapted and you felt more like yourself than you ever have.

Everything was going well for you...until Izzy uncovered your little secret.

Well, he stumbled upon it.

You had been washing up when first mate Hands barged in.

Surprisingly, you always managed to find enough privacy on the ship to wash and change without prying eyes, until Izzy had started searching for another pair of hands to help with the rigging.

It just had to be you that he swung the door open on to.

"You're a woman?" the question came after a pause as Izzy processed what he was seeing.

"No" you snapped, pulling your layers on.

"Could've fooled me" this was already probably the longest conversation you've had with the first mate that wasn't about chores.

"Fuck" you cursed to yourself, knowing you had to give him some sort of explanation. So, you gave him as honest an answer you could and hoped he would leave it there, "I'm not a woman. I...I was born a girl but that is not what I am. I'm a man, always have been."

"...get on deck, now. Need more hands on the rigging" Izzy ordered, his stern glare returning as his surprise faded into the background.

"Yes, sir" you nodded before scurrying out of the room, hurrying up to the deck.

You hoped that was a good sign. You got out of the room with your life and he was still giving you tasks to take care of on the ship.

At least for now, you seemed to be safe.

After processing some more, Izzy had to decide what to do with this information, and he had to decide what to believe.

He doesn't tell anyone what he saw.

Well, he tells Blackbeard, but he doesn't really have a choice, does he?

The captain has to know everything that's happening on his ship.

What happens to you is up to the captain. If you're thrown overboard for lying, generously let off at the next port they visit, or if there is no reason to punish you. It's Blackbeard's decision.

But Blackbeard doesn't give a shit.

He never would have cared about something like that but he's going through a bit of an existential crisis, so the last thing he cares about is if you're trans.

Izzy decides against telling any other members of the crew for various reasons.

Firstly, he isn't one for gossip.

Secondly, he doesn't need the more suppositious members of the crew talking about curses or bad luck.

Finally, it's just not important for the crew to know.

The only gender identity Izzy cares about is: Pirate. If you're good at that, he doesn't give too much of a shit.

You had hoped, prayed and pleaded to any higher power that may be listening, that Izzy would let your secret be forgotten.

At first, while you had your concerns, things seemed promising. Nothing between you and the crew had changed so you assumed Izzy hadn't told them anything.

You knew they wouldn't be very good at not mentioning it, even if you were somewhat fond of some of them.

Still, you were on edge.

Plus, Izzy's constant gaze on you wasn't unsettling.

Whenever you were on the deck, you could feel the first mate glaring a hole in your back.

You were convinced that he was just watching, waiting for you to make one mistake, waiting for an excuse to throw you overboard.

However, that wasn't the case.

Izzy found himself staring at you without realising it most of the time.

The truth was...he was trying to see you as a woman, to think of you as one, but he just...couldn't.

Despite what he saw, what he had learnt about you, he thought you were right. You are a man. He couldn't see you any differently.

And still, despite himself, he had become curious.

He had approached you quietly, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Izzy appeared at your side.

It was late, you were on watch that night, and the deck was empty.

If he wanted to kill you and call it an accident, now was the perfect time.

"Is it why you became a pirate?" he didn't need to clarify what he meant by 'it', you knew instantly.

"...yeah, weren't many options" you answered with a small shrug.

You didn't know the intentions behind his questioning but you thought the best course of action was to just answer them. You still weren't sure how Izzy felt about what he discovered.

"I could think of some easier options" Izzy muttered.

The scoff escaped you before you could stop it.

You didn't claim to know anything about Izzy's past. You had no idea why he became a pirate, you could make a guess just from the usual reasons people become pirates, but you did know that he didn't know your situation.

"I couldn't stay, it would have been the end of me" you told him, a bite to your words.

"They were going to kill you?" the question was fairly sincere, at least for Izzy, but you couldn't help but laugh just a little.

"My parents started talking about marriage. The fella wasn't the problem, but the thought of spending the rest of my life as something I'm not...I thought I was managing but that was my wake up call, I guess" you told him with a sigh, wondering if he even cared or if he was just prying for blackmail to hold over your head, "jumped on the first ship I saw. Wanted to start fresh but found out I wasn't too bad at piracy...and here I am."

Izzy just nodded, not seeming to have much to say in response.

"If this is going to be a problem...I'd really appreciate it if you just let me leave once we reach the next port" it was almost sad, having to ask to be dismissed rather than killed.

"Leave if you want but there is no order for you to do so" Izzy told you with a shrug, pushing himself away from the railing. "Nobody other than the captain and I know, and he doesn't care" if you didn't know any better, you would think Izzy was trying to reassure you.

"...thank you" it was the bare minimum really, but you were still thankful for it.

"Nothing to fuckin' thank me for" the Izzy Hands you knew quickly returned before leaving you to your position.

As you turned your attention back to the quiet waters, you smiled a little to yourself. Maybe things would be okay.

It just became...unimportant to him.

The majority of the time, it's not even something that's on his mind.

He can give credit where it's due (just not verbally) and you've become a valued member of the crew.

Izzy could trust you as a crew member, and that was more important to him than anything.

So, while you thought he would lose any trust he had in you (just from past experiences), you found that he was actually giving you more important tasks around the ship.

Still, you remained suspicious of him. At least, until you returned from a raid wounded.

It was nothing serious but it meant that you had to roam the ship, looking for somewhere that gave you enough privacy to undress a little.

Izzy had caught you wandered about, wincing as you held your side.

It was a quiet order as he came up to your side.

You looked at him as if he was telling you a bad joke when he told you to tend to yourself in his personal cabin.

But he snapped the generous order again, and you nodded before hurrying down into the ship, making sure nobody saw you slip into the cabin.

You knew Izzy wasn't one to give special treatment, not to anyone, so you didn't take the offer lightly.

But he wasn't giving you special treatment. He was giving you respect. Something else that shouldn't be taken lightly.

A bit of a side note: if anyone else were to find out and dare to misgender you, Izzy will come to your defence, just in his own Izzy way. Informing them that you're a better pirate than them and if they don't like something, they can fuck off or go down with the anchor the next time they stop.

#izzy hands x reader #izzy hands #ofmd izzy #ofmd #our flag means death

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envythepalmtree · 3 years ago

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Lanfan headcanons

These were requested a while back, so here they are!

[ID: Shot of Lanfan. End ID]

1. Her full name is Liáng Lánfān 梁蓝帆

Lanfan's Japanese name ランファン translates to 蓝帆 Lán fān in Chinese, which means "blue sail." Liang 梁, and its variants, are used as a surname in China, Indonesia, Korea, Vietnam, the Phillippines, and more and it means "bridge."

After Ling became emperor, Lanfan was crucial in the movement to abolish the clan system and restore relations between different (former) clans. It took years, but Ling and Lanfan acted as bridges between groups to bring peace Xing.

When I ran this name by my mother, she commented that it sounded a bit like a tongue twister. It is a bit hard to pronounce. And far before Lanfan started training to be Ling's bodyguard, when they were both small children, Ling had trouble pronouncing her name. But Ling's mother told him how important it was to say the proper names of his clan members, and he was the first child Lanfan played with to say it right.

2. Her childhood

Lanfan is part of a retainer family to the Yao family on her mother's side. When she was growing up, it was her grandfather Fu and her mother who acted as the chief bodyguards to Ling and his family. Because her surname did not match the name of the retainer family (which I will not say because spoilers for a fic), she wasn't immediately in line to be Ling's top bodyguard--they had a couple of cousins in mind as well.

They began teaching her the same topics any Xingese child would be learning at school, like Classics and math, but she didn't have much patience for it and, at nine years old, would repeatedly remind her teacher and parents that she wouldn't need to know poetry or multiplication to serve the Yao clan. (That wasn't exactly true: Some of her family members served as accountants. Someone needed to manage the clan's tax policy.)

Eventually, they gave in and put her in combat classes with kids much older than her. She wasn't naturally talented at fighting, but worked super hard out of spite and by the time she was thirteen it was clear she was the best.

She was, however, pretty talented at making explosives. Maybe it was irresponsible of the Yao scientists to allow an extremely young girl to help with their experiments in designing effective ones, but hey. She was helpful.

3. Her and Ling

It was Lanfan's idea to travel to Amestris and look for immortality as a means of getting Ling onto the throne.

Lanfan wasn't a political strategist. Ling had advisors who were well versed in political theory who were helping him figure out how to raise the clan's status and get him to the top. Lanfan considered herself more muscle than brains (unusual in a world where men acted helpless and women had to do all the logic), but she thought that the advisors' ideas were too small, too safe. The Yao clan had powerful rivals, and they'd lose too much if one of their rivals took the throne. They needed to think bigger.

That isn't to say she wanted to take Ling across a desert into a dangerous country. Who wants their beloved prince taking such risks? But Lanfan knew he wanted to get to the top and wanted to take risks.

It wasn't until they were both in a foreign country that they realized their feelings for each other. But a romance between the Yao prince and his bodyguard would be the furthest thing from convenient. If they wanted to be together, there was a lot they needed to change about their country first.

(A Xingese-Amestrian colonel with some painful ties to Ling's and Lanfan's family was trying to become the ruler of Amestris. He had a lieutenant. Both the Amestrian and Xingese pairs had countries to change before they could be real couples.)

#lan fan #fmab #fma headcanon #xing #ling yao #lingfan #fma meta #chinese characters #japanese characters #image described #aure speaks

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sanguinarysanguinity · 3 years ago

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⭐️ Alternate escapes and/or endings for Death or England

Oh, excellent question!

Alternate endings:

While writing the first two chapters or so, I hadn't yet committed to a happy ending: it seemed entirely plausible that they would fake-married pine their way through France, get back to England, and resume their old patterns -- now with extra enhanced pining! -- until Bush dies and Hornblower is left with nothing but regrets. Ultimately I turned away from this because I felt my readership wouldn't stand for it; the trope traditionally comes with a happy ending, after all. Whereupon the trick became trying to discomfit them enough that they COULDN'T settle into old patterns again. (Hopefully I succeeded; I know that when I was editing non-consecutive chapters while posting, I was giving myself whiplash with how much Hornblower especially had changed from one end of the story to the other.)

The ending also used to be longer: I ended up cutting about six hundred words wherein Bush confesses that before leaving Le Havre, he lifted their wedding license from Hornblower -- not the original forged one, but the one from chapter two -- and smuggled it out of France with him, purely for sentimental reasons. That extended ending also features Hornblower promising Bush a ship as a wedding present, with Bush not quite believing him, joking around that they can take up smuggling together -- he has connections now, and they can get up a good sideline in rescuing escaped prisoners of war.

Alternate escape plans:

My plan for getting them out of France was in continuous flux for far too long. And it got worse, once I realized that I would need an abortive Plan A (what they thought they were doing before their run-in with the busybody magistrate), and a fallback Plan B (which would be the plan that actually got used). Not only did I have a number of possibilities in play, but which plan was A and which was B kept changing, too. I kept having to go back and edit where they were headed and why they thought they were headed there, and I had a nasty surprise right before posting when I discovered that I STILL hadn't gotten it all consistent with itself.

One early idea was to have them go to Dunkirk, which Napoleon had made into an authorized port for English smugglers circa 1811 -- he welcomed and encouraged them there, so long as they stayed in their defined and well-guarded area. Hornblower would sneak into the designated smuggler's quarter somehow and buy passage to England in one of the smugglers' galleys. (Kentish smugglers tended to use galleys: the crossing was short enough for muscle-power, and a galley could often evade a revenue cutter by rowing straight into the wind.) Eventually Dunkirk became the abortive Plan A. Later I changed it from Dunkirk to Calais, and from "buy passage with smugglers" to "escape to a patrolling revenue ship", when I finally settled on the escape you see in the story.

I also considered having Le Havre be Plan A, with Cherbourg or Dieppe as Plan B, although I didn't do a lot of research to those ends. Most of the time, I was planning on getting them out of France via Le Havre.

For a while I was going to have them descend the Seine by sail: they would have to bite their tongues and pretend that they don't know squat about sailing while going slowly out of their minds with their desire to take charge of the boat. The boat would get stuck on a sandbank or riverbank, and force them to escape on foot again! Unfortunately for this idea, upriver of Rouen, water traffic on the Seine was mostly towed, not sailed, so there wasn't the oppty for sailing shenanigans than I hoped. Eventually the idea evolved to become the water coach you see in the story (which was entirely historical, running regular service between Paris and Rouen).

When they got to Le Havre, I was originally going to have the three of them steal a boat, preferably something military, so they could still triumphantly arrive in England with something stolen from the French Navy. I needed something small, and had a gunboat in mind for a while, but AS IT TURNS OUT gunboats of the era were mostly rowed and required a much larger crew than Hornblower had. I didn't want to repeat the novel's trick with liberating an imprisoned work crew, so no gunboat. (Although my research on gunboats wormed its way into the fic via the gunboats patrolling the harbour at Le Havre. Pretty much across the board, all the discarded options ended up in the fic one way or another.)

When I decided to have Bush go back alone, I was originally gonna have Hornblower and Brown steal a boat -- possibly a fishing boat -- and make their way back to England on their own a few days later. But at the last minute I decided that I wanted Bush to have a role in their rescue, which is how I ended up with what you saw in the novel. At which point I had to go back and remove a TON of smuggling references from earlier chapters, so as not to make Bush's plan too obvious before it happens.

Those were the best-developed ideas I had, but there were several more things that I considered and discarded -- pretty much every plan that Hornblower toys with is something that I had seriously considered for getting them out of France.

I should also mention that @tgarnsl was invaluable through all this: she did a lot of brainstorming with me, and helped research many of the options that I considered. (Thank you, tgarnsl!)

#fake married au #hornblower fic #my writing #dvd commentary #long post

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harry-sussex · 3 years ago

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You're lovely, and I enjoy seeing your blog on my dashboard. I'm sorry this has been such a difficult thing to process. It's always really difficult to rework an image of someone you once thought you knew. However I'd like to just put it out there - sometimes (I think the large majority of the time) news is presented in the most sensationalist way, such that nowadays I make a point of de-sensationalizing any news I read in my head. In the case of the whole Harry's memoir thing- I can sympathize with Harry as a person possibly just wanting to take back some control of the narrative for himself. Not just in the most recent events with family (that I tend to think are less horrifying than the fandom/Twitter sussex squad discusses it anyway), but in all aspects of his life. I do not at all think he's going to put his family on blast. I can easily imagine Meghan reigning that dialogue in; she has the tendency to think before she speaks that he seems to lack. And he loves his family. Similar to The Interview promos, I imagine the publishing house knew to increase the interest by implying it to be a tell all memoir. I think he's just done a lot of growing up that he didn't know he had to do over a short period of time, esp re: implicit bias/racism in the setting of media's blatant attack on someone he loves, and is disappointed by the institution's and his family's response to it. I think he's emerged a more introspective and aware human, albeit a disillusioned one. Yes it breaks my heart to think that Meghan won't get a break from the tabloids any time soon. If I were him I'd counsel him to write it & sit on it for a few yrs. But I don't want to give the media the power to destroy Meghan in my mind, and I pray she & Harry won't either. I think she'll be okay. She's a strong one, and I think he's able to draw that same link for himself and be thoughtful about what he does. No one likes being misunderstood/misinterpreted, and I wouldn't be surprised if Harry's especially triggered by that given his history with the press. Maybe this idea emerged from therapy, idk. I can empathize with that, even if I wouldn't do it myself. I hope and pray Meghan gets the support she needs from him and her loved ones in the meantime. I'm honestly not going to read it. I think the less attention I give the BRF the better off they are, unless they're doing something immoral/illegal (see: Woking pizza alibi). And I think at the end of the day, people will unfairly judge other people, especially public figures that have tragic pasts and are publically fighting with the media. A lot of it is going to be noise and I'm not going to give my energy into figuring it out. I like to think I've got a good sense of who they are as people - flawed but ultimately well meaning and earnest. I'm a huge admirer of Meghan and think Harry got really lucky with this one and I'm proud of him for choosing her in more ways than one. I believe Harry and Meghan are lovely people, and I 100% believe their interview. I believe that there are people in the palace with a lot of unchecked power who deliberately uncovered her and Archie from BRF protection for reasons of believed superiority over Meg & Arch. And they're figuring out how to deal with that as a couple and a family. And it's none of my business past that imo. I pray for them and hope it'll eventually end in peace for them all. Just wanted to add another perspective, and hopefully some levity. xx M

Hi, dear. First thing’s first, I really appreciate that this is off anon lol. I love it when people own their opinions, and it says a lot that you did. So thank you for that.

Second of all, I really appreciate the nuance and perspective that is in this message. I agree that the news is sensationalist, and my initial reaction was based off of that. I did watch the promotional clips of the interview and I believe it did sour my expectations going into it when I watched it nearly a week after it aired. I did my best to stay away from Tumblr because I didn’t want that to hinder my view, but it was impossible to separate the promotions that presented the information one way from what it actually was, and thank you for bringing that up with respect to the memoir because I hadn’t considered it. I will say that my knee jerk reaction is pretty on par with the way I still feel about it 24 hours later, especially since I got the news directly, not from Tumblr or Twitter or anywhere else, but you’re right that it could have soured my view from the very start.

I appreciate that he wants to take back some of the narrative but I think that ship has sailed, tbh. He did that with the interview and now I just think it feels like information overload. At some point, people are going to get tired of hearing the wealthy, privileged, powerful Prince complain about his life while more than 4 million people have died due to a global pandemic in less than 2 years. Not to say that he doesn’t struggle - in the words of Roxane Gay, there is no oppression Olympics (and that can be extended to struggle Olympics) - but people view it that way and will get tired of it, if they haven’t already.

I also agree that Harry’s past with the press has tarnished the way he has handled the media and the public post-exit, when he’s finally in a position to strike back without being somewhat obliged to them as part of the circumstances of his birth. I understand and sympathize with him but I just don’t think the public does, and the public matters much, much more than the perspective of one single American fan, to whom he’s never been obliged, and I simply do not think the public will afford him that same understanding, sympathy, and leniency. The public and the media are critical to his humanitarian work - his mother never realized that towards the end of her life, and I truly don’t think she would have been the martyr/saint she is perceived to be now if she had lived, because she did not know how to meet the media in the middle and eventually that started to piss people off. He’s starting to piss people off now and if it doesn’t bother him personally (which it definitely does), I don’t want it to affect his causes. The Invictus Games, Sentebale, Walking with the Wounded, WellChild, Mayhew, Smartworks, Archewell, etc. deserve better than to suffer the wrath of the media and an apathetic public because their patrons simply will not shut up lol.

I guess my point is that they will be unfairly judged (regardless, but especially due to the way they’re handling things), and I think it would suit them better in the long run if they adopted a different strategy. I really sympathize with the fact that he feels frustrated with the narrative that has been manufactured but I really, really think the narrative will only get worse and worse as he continues to go on and on about how badly his life sucks, basically. Again, I don’t deny that he struggles - we all do, some more than others, especially when there are mental health issues - but the public, to me, simply does not care. My own therapist has told me to simply stop caring about the things that I discuss with him. Not to say that they’re not relevant, important, or worthy of discussion - they absolutely are - but his point is that you cannot change people and you are wasting your energy and struggling yourself because you want to change them so, so, so badly that you’re neglecting your own self care in the process. I hate that I do it to myself and I also hate that he appears to be doing it to himself. I’m sure a lot of this conversation has been brought up in his own therapy, and I’m no professional, but I’m doing my best to heed the advice of my own therapist - which is the opposite of what Harry is doing - and it’s done wonders for me, when I actually can do it.

If there’s anything I know from this whole thing, it’s that Harry is absolutely punching above his weight, love him as I may, and that he adores, adores, adores his wife. He has chosen her from the very second she came into his life and I couldn’t want anything more for him or from her. I’m not going to lie, I would have been in this thing for any wife that Harry chose, because I was here long before Meghan specifically came into his life. However, I am glad every day that he chose her, that he loves her, that he wants to protect her, that she loves him back, that he lives the life with her that he’s wanted as long as I (and I’m sure he) can remember. I love her because he loves her, and I would have no matter what, because at the end of the day, it’s his happiness and comfort that matters to me, that has mattered to me since I discovered him and how wonderful he can be more than 7 years ago. What more could I ask of Meghan? What more, as his fan to the end (annoy me as he may), could I want for him? Who could say anything about her in that regard? If there’s anything that has come of this mess, to me, it’s that Harry loves, loves, loves his wife. I will always be happy for him and I will always be proud of him for choosing her, even if I don’t always agree with the way he goes about it.

I’m looking forward to peace, too. I cannot wait for things to just die out, for them to work things out as a couple and as a family, and for everyone to move on. The family will still do their thing and the Sussexes can do theirs, but I cannot deal with this back and forth, tit for tat, petty nonsense anymore. They’re wonderful and flawed, like the rest of them (except Andrew), and I just hope that they can all come to some kind of agreement or terms that lets this die down. It’s exhausting for everyone - themselves included. If I’m this tired, I can only imagine how tired they all are.

Thanks for stopping by, and sorry for the essay (essays, these past 24 hours lol). I really appreciate your kindness in this message, your presence in my notifications (I do see them!), your nuanced perspective and like I said before, I really, really appreciate that you own it!

#Ask #possibilitiesofsainthood #Prince harry #duke of sussex #meghan markle #duchess of sussex #phmemoir

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rookthorne · 2 years ago

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this has been on my reading list for a bit, I’m excited to get started! 🥰

If any of the shopkeepers or surrounding guards figured out it was you, you'd be eating in your chambers for a month.

oh a little rebel here? hmm 👀

One particular necklace caught your eye, cerulean and sparkling in the noon sun. If you bought it, you'd be questioned on where you got it. Especially by your knight. He didn't miss a thing.

Stevie mind yo damn bisnitch.

Blue. Eyes like the stone in the stall, like the first waves at sea.

SWEEP ME AWAY WITH THE CURRENT PLS

He was handsome; eyes bright, lips sweet like trouble. You liked him all the same.

😏😏😏

It was the telltale warning of palace guards. He winked, calloused fingers eventually slipping from your grip. Swift as a hare, Bucky leapt over the stall bench, much to the displeasure of the owner. You watched, stunned, as he ran. A throng of five guards sped past you with their swords drawn as they gave chase.

I am getting real Flynn Rider vibes here and I LOVE IT

“Excuse me, sir,” you began meekly, soft as you could manage. “Are you looking for the runner? Dark hair?”

A CHEEKY REBEL

I love her

Yeah, what?

I HOWLED WITH THIS

so simple but fucking hilarious

Bucky's fingers were adorned with rings—one had a stone just like the sky. Another was a deep scarlet, like the heart of a fire.

NOT THE RINGS

"You're similar height to my—the gate's knight," you said, considering a chestplate. "This ought to fit."

well that was close 👀👀

"I'm sorry. You're very right, Steve. It jeopardizes my safety. I should listen to you more often."

"I—yes. Yes, you should." He squinted. "What are you hiding?"

GIRL YOU SHOULD HAVE PUT UP A FIGHT

NEVER agree with a man so willingly 🤣

"You never agree so easily. That means you've done something."

SEE

I love the dynamic between these two so much, so much sarcasm I ADORE IT

"Steve, is it? Pleasure."

NOW I’M IMAGINING JACK AND WILL 🤣

"You fight well. For a knight."

"Funny," Steve replied. "For a thief."

HEY he’s a hot thief. And a sassy one.

Can I just pause my commentary for a sec, I need to tell you just how much I fucking love the dynamics you’re setting up here? It’s witty, it’s snappy, and it’s hilarious. I love it so much. Fantastic job. 💗

"Princess, as kind as that is, I think it would be best if I went on my own. I don't believe your guard dog likes me very much."

"Take your time," he called. "I'll be here, not thieving."

well he’s already stolen my heart so…

"But he wouldn't know! Not if you helped us. Father trusts you. Pierce trusts you."

WHAT?!

"Because your idea of fun usually ends up in trouble and the whole point of me helping is to avoid exactly that."

HEY

don’t call her out like that. 😑

"Don't encourage her," grumbled Steve.

DO ENCOURAGE HER

Bucky was warm, almost too much so for the summertime. He smelled like leather and salt, solid and sure behind you. You shared a look with Steve, whose expression was unreadable.

👀👀👀

A cough that sounded more like a laugh came from behind some boxes. You cleared your throat, smiling even wider.

SHHH BOYS 🤣

Gouven did not react well. You made a mental note not to rely on him in case of emergency. While he ran around like a headless chicken, trying to decide what to do with you, you opened your eyes.

OH HELLO ELIZABETH 🤣

oh my god I love this so much

Bucky and Steve were both frozen in concern. Steve looked ready to leap to your aid. You lifted your head, because really? Did they think you could faint on command like that?

THEY’RE MEN! they are CLUELESS 🤣

Bucky winked, saluting, rings glinting in the sunlight. He jogged back to his boat. It took another minute before he was rolling off, sails fluttering.

you lost me when you mentioned rings. I don’t have a problem.

"Pierce went on my behalf. Words were exchanged."

HES LYING I KNOW IT! ITS PIERCE!

"Don't you think it's strange that King Faleron would respond so harshly? You two are practically brothers."

SEE HE IS LYING

now this was a hella enjoyable read, the perfect amount of humour and suspense. amazing job! 💗

On Wings of Fate (1) - s.r. | b.b.

Summary: You meet a kind stranger one day in the marketplace. He's a pirate, but a good man, he swears. Your knight isn't so sure, but oh, what does he know? You like the pirate; his eyes are like the sea and his smile... oh, his smile is trouble. Yet from the moment he docked at your kingdom's port, you just may have bargained for more than the three of you could ever imagined.

Pairing: knight!Steve Rogers x princess!fem!Reader x pirate!Bucky Barnes

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: none

A/N: i'm back with a new series! this one is stucky x reader, and it's gonna be a fun time!!!

quick note: the setting is purposely vague, as i want all readers to feel included. it's an older setting in terms of technology but there is magic and fantasy themes (aka i will not be following the customs of 18th century England, or anything like that). furthermore, i will be making up a lot of stuff as i go. :)

I do not do taglists anymore! You can follow @sanguine-marvel for new updates on all my Marvel fics.

****

"Fish! Fresh fish! Fair price!"

"Veal! Get your veal here!"

You sidestepped bundles of fabric, pulling your hood down further to conceal your face. It was thin, suitable for the summer, yet enough to mask your identity. If any of the shopkeepers or surrounding guards figured out it was you, you'd be eating in your chambers for a month.

"Gems! Precious stones! Treasure your woman!"

You scoffed at that, glancing across the road at the stall with stones that were, undoubtedly, very lovely. One particular necklace caught your eye, cerulean and sparkling in the noon sun. If you bought it, you'd be questioned on where you got it. Especially by your knight. He didn't miss a thing.

It happened too fast. You didn't see the cart until it had already passed, kicking up dust in its wake. The squeal of the horses rang in your ears as a strong arm curled around your waist and yanked you back. You crashed into a strong chest, panicking for a moment, until you realized the owner bore no ill will to you.

"Are you alright?"

Blue. Eyes like the stone in the stall, like the first waves at sea. He stepped back as you caught your breath, heart thumping in your chest. You grabbed the wooden stall for purchase, staring back. He watched you, fingerless gloved hand lifted slightly, ready to catch you if you fell.

"Miss," he repeated. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," you said. "Yes, I am. I—thank you."

He smiled and you decided then that he had a rather kind face, even wrapped in a dark tunic and unpolished boots.

"Careful. These carts move fast. Did they hurt you?"

"No," you breathed, still shaken. "No, I'm fine."

"You sure? Hey." He gently took your wrist, eyes soft. "It's alright. You're safe, I promise. And a promise is no light thing, y'know."

He was being playful on purpose. You wondered if he could feel your ratcheted heartbeat. He was handsome; eyes bright, lips sweet like trouble. You liked him all the same.

"Name's Bucky," he offered, perhaps all too aware of the fact that he was still a stranger.

"Bucky," you repeated. "I—"

"There he is!"

His grin widened, sharp around the edges. It was the telltale warning of palace guards. He winked, calloused fingers eventually slipping from your grip. Swift as a hare, Bucky leapt over the stall bench, much to the displeasure of the owner. You watched, stunned, as he ran. A throng of five guards sped past you with their swords drawn as they gave chase. You followed, making sure not to go in the road.

"Split up!" ordered the leader of the pack, and they did, tearing up the marketplace.

You winced at the blade notches in the passing stalls, the guards careless in their hunt. You'd tried explaining to your father before how reckless some of the men could be in their pursuit of so-called criminals. But the king hardly listened to you these days, taking everything his advisor said as holy word.

Eventually, the guards came to a stop, the leader sweaty and red-faced. He was brawny, with a mustache. Sir Jones. You'd never liked him. Arrogant and brash, he took pride in spilling blood.

“He can’t have gone far," Jones grunted. “Spread out!”

In a far corner, a haystack rustled. You swallowed, then stepped forward, making sure your hood covered part of your face.

“Excuse me, sir,” you began meekly, soft as you could manage. “Are you looking for the runner? Dark hair?”

“Yes,” he answered gruffly. “Have you seen him?”

“Why, yes,” you nodded, lifting a finger. “He went that way, to the woods. He frightened me, sir!”

“Not to worry, woman. We’ll capture him in no time. This way, men!”

You watched, waiting until they were well up the path and towards the forest. The market continued to bustle, people ignoring the commotion. Bits of hay fell to the floor. The cows chewed their cud, unbothered.

Your savior emerged. He crept out carefully, taking a moment to survey his surroundings. He—Bucky—eventually focused on you, plainly confused.

“You led 'em away.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why are the guards chasing you?”

He smiled.

“Because I docked here.”

"Is that all?" you wondered.

Bucky shrugged.

"It's enough. My boots ain't as shiny as theirs. So, I'm a criminal."

“Well, they’re not very bright.”

“Most palace guards aren't known for their wit, miss."

"They're not all like that," you defended.

"No? And how would you know?"

“I have a sense about people.”

Something in his eyes flickered.

“As do I.”

“He’s not there, sire!”

Hooves beat against the cobble, horses whinnying as the guards slowed to a stop. Your heart stuttered as one of them seemed to look straight at you.

“Go down to the docks,” sneered Jones. “He’ll turn up soon enough to catch his precious ship. Hyah!”

They started for the docks. You turned to Bucky, frowning.

“How will you escape?”

“Not my first time,” Bucky said. “Won’t be my last.”

“I can hide you.”

"What?"

Yeah, what? Why were you offering this stranger a safe passage? He certainly was no mere merchant if the guards were chasing him through the city.

"I—" you bit your lip. Bucky looked on in honest bewilderment. "I want to help you. You helped me. You took far more risk than I in your aid."

"I don't know about that," he frowned. "And how? They’ll search everywhere. You may get into trouble.”

“I won’t,” you said. “They won’t suspect me.”

Bucky considered you, then glanced around.

"You sure about this?"

"Yes," you replied, walking back to the castle. "I am."

Not even two steps in, he stopped you, hand gentle on your elbow. Bucky's fingers were adorned with rings—one had a stone just like the sky. Another was a deep scarlet, like the heart of a fire.

“I mean this in the kindest way possible, but are you mad? The castle is the last place I should go.”

“We’ll go through the servant’s quarters. They lead almost directly to the armory. Then you’ll disguise yourself as a knight.”

He hesitated, warily looking you over.

"The servants are preparing for the festival," you reminded. "No one will see you." That was how you'd snuck out originally. Though he couldn't know that. You weren't supposed to be out on your own in the first place.

The quarters were empty, just like you'd predicted, and you went through without a hitch. Training was over for the morning, so no guards were in the armory.

"You're similar height to my—the gate's knight," you said, considering a chestplate. "This ought to fit."

"You still haven't told me your name, you know."

"I know. Try this on." You handed him a helmet.

"Why do I get the feeling you're hiding something?" he asked, taking the helmet.

"Perhaps it's that sense of yours."

Down the hall, a door slammed. You froze, then quickly unbuttoned your cloak, stuffing it under a table. Bucky's eyes widened.

"Are those rubies on your neck?"

"Huh? Oh. Yes. You should probably hide right about now."

"You're not a servant. What are you, a lady?"

"Depends on who you ask. Father calls me a menace."

"Y/N!"

You ushered Bucky behind a curtain before he could ask any more questions, yanking them shut.

"What are—"

"Shush, or he'll hear you," you warned. "I'll get you out, but you must be silent. This is a clever knight—not like the ones in the market."

"Y/N, are you here?"

You whirled around a moment before the doors opened.

"Y/N. What… are you doing in here?"

"Steve! You found me faster than usual today. I think you're getting better at this."

You beamed, shuffling away from the curtains. Steve watched you, eyes already narrowed.

"Yes," he replied slowly. "Well, you've certainly been giving me practice. Did you have a nice time sneaking away to the marketplace?"

"Oh," you shrugged. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

"Y/N," Steve sighed. "I've told you time and again not to go without a guard. You don't know who might be looking to harm you. I've been searching for you all morning."

"I'm sorry. You're very right, Steve. It jeopardizes my safety. I should listen to you more often."

"I—yes. Yes, you should." He squinted. "What are you hiding?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You never agree so easily. That means you've done something."

"Me, doing things? Never! That would not be proper of me, Steve. Everyone knows my duty is to sit about with air in my head."

"Which you couldn't do if your life depended on it," he muttered.

"Yes, well, if you'll be on your way, I can get back to practicing."

Steve stepped forward, sword clinking gently. Then he stilled, glancing around. You exhaled quietly, doing your best to keep a neutral face when he noticed the out of place armor.

"Why is that there?"

"Hmm? Oh, well…" You sighed heavily. "I suppose now you should know my secret, Steven. Truthfully, it has always been my dream to be a Royal Guard. I'm terribly envious of all the chainmail you get to wear."

You traced the lines of metal with your finger, gazing longingly.

"Oh, how I wish to feel the cool press of armor on my skin! But such is not a fate for me. Woe—woe, Steve!"

"Try again, Y/N."

"Steven! Would I lie to you?"

"Yes."

"You offend me, knight," you huffed. "That is rather presumptuous of you."

"Presumptuous? You've only been cooking up schemes since we were children."

"Only for good."

Steve looked at you, then at the room. He drew his sword and zeroed in on the curtains.

"No, wait!"

Too late. He flicked open the curtains before you could move. But Bucky was ready.

"Steve, is it? Pleasure."

Steve was one of your father's best soldiers. It had been after he'd won a medal for valor that your father had assigned him to your personal detail. He always kept you safe. Sometimes that also made him a not very good listener.

"Steve, he's not a threat!" you tried again, grimacing at the clash of metal.

Bucky blocked every advance, also skilled with a sword. Steve parred right. You stepped forward—both men were far too determined for your comfort.

Steve glanced at you, concerned, and in a second, the sword slipped from his grasp, landing across the room. Bucky pointed the tip of his sword at Steve's chest.

"Leave Her Highness alone," ordered Steve. "Do what you will with me, but do not harm her."

"And take the lovely princess's handsome knight away? Now why would I do a thing like that?"

"You've no business here."

"I'm helping him, Steve," you explained exasperatedly, inserting yourself between them, hand on Steve's bicep. "Bucky saved my life today, in the market."

"He did what?"

Bucky took a step back, bowing slightly as he sheathed his sword.

"The name's Barnes. Bucky, if you're feeling sweet."

He retrieved Steve's blade, handing it to him.

"You fight well. For a knight."

"Funny," Steve replied. "For a thief."

"Oh, hey now, I'm no thief, Sir Steven. I docked here hoping to refuel for a night. I've committed no crimes."

"And Jones chased him all through the market, Steve, ruining the stalls!" you fumed. "It angers me so, I could just spit."

Bucky grinned.

"Beauty and heart. You've got it all, princess."

"Hang on. Go back to the saving your life part," said Steve, who was assuredly not amused.

"Umm," you started. "Well, there was a tiny thing with a cart in the road and Bucky pulled me back. It was a footnote for the day, really."

"Y/N, this is exactly what I mean! You could've gotten seriously hurt and—"

"But I didn't, Steve! Because of Bucky. And now he needs help. So I'm going to disguise him as a knight and sneak him out of the city."

"Oh, absolutely not. Y/N, I've supported a lot over the years and lied for you even more, but this is ridiculous. You can't stow a criminal in the palace armory."

"Again," chimed Bucky. "Not a criminal."

Steve looked at him, arms crossed.

"You're a merchant then?"

"In a sense."

"I see. And what sort of cargo do you carry, merchant?"

"All sorts. Whatever needs transport."

"Uh-huh. And your documentation for transport?"

"It's on its way," Bucky shrugged.

"Right. Y/N, he's a pirate."

"Steve! What a cruel thing to say," you scolded. "Bucky is an honorable man."

"Honorable men can be pirates," said Bucky. "We exist."

"No such thing," Steve grumbled. "There is no honor among pirates."

"Like there's so much with you knights."

"What would you know about—"

"My God," you cut in. "Will you both quiet down? Bucky, I meant what I said: I will get you to your boat."

"Princess, as kind as that is, I think it would be best if I went on my own. I don't believe your guard dog likes me very much."

"Don't mind him. Steve will come round."

"No, I will not," he said firmly. "Y/N, this is very serious. Please do not make me go to your father."

"You wouldn't! Oh, Steve, don't. Bucky saved my life—he deserves the benefit of the doubt."

"He's a pirate, Y/N! A commoner is one thing, but…"

"Look, I don't wanna cause a tiff between you," said Bucky. "I know when to bow out."

"There'll be no bows yet. Steve, if you trust me at all, you'll help me to help Bucky."

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Y/N, of course I trust you, but—"

"He doesn't deserve to be arrested! So what if he's a pirate? He could've asked for a reward or taken advantage of me, but he didn't."

Steve took your arm, gently steering you across the armory. Bucky nodded, giving a thumbs-up.

"Take your time," he called. "I'll be here, not thieving."

"Y/N," Steve began, lowering his voice. "I know you want to help him and I'm glad he helped you, truly. But if your father catches wind of you consorting with a pirate, he'd have his head and maybe yours too."

"But he wouldn't know! Not if you helped us. Father trusts you. Pierce trusts you."

"Pierce thinks I'm a brainless ass."

"Well, yes. In any case, he'd never suspect you."

Steve glanced at Bucky.

"You're really sure about him?"

"I am. He doesn't deserve the dungeons."

You took one of Steve's large hands in both of your own, hugging it to your chest. Steve lightly curled his fingers around yours. You smiled, bringing his hand up to brush your cheek.

"Please? For me?"

Steve sagged, staring at his hand on your cheek. You grinned, because that look always preceded a yes.

"Fine. But he can't return. I'll only do this one time." He raised his voice as he addressed Bucky. "And if Her Highness is put in any danger, you're on your own."

Bucky held up his hands.

"'Course. Wouldn't want her in any danger either, Sir Steven."

Steve grunted, walking over.

"Dressing you as a guard is our best bet. How long will it take to cast off?"

"Ten minutes at most. With an extra set of hands."

"Alright. The guards rotate every quarter hour. There will be one guard on shift, because you're one man and Jones is disgustingly overconfident. If I can lead him away, that ought to give us—"

"I'll do it," you said. "I can distract him."

"Absolutely not, Y/N."

"Why don't you ever let me have any fun?" you whined.

"Because your idea of fun usually ends up in trouble and the whole point of me helping is to avoid exactly that."

"Oh, please. I've been getting away with trouble since I was a child. Have a little faith, Steve."

"Y/N…"

"It'll be like you two are escorting me around town. I'll be at the docks to giggle and flirt with the uniformed officers because I'm a silly princess with no interests besides men."

"Crafty, aren't you?" Bucky grinned.

"Don't encourage her," grumbled Steve.

"Come on," you pushed, rummaging around for shoulder pads. "We're losing daylight, and I'm not allowed out after dusk. Don't worry, Steve. I promise I'll be safe. Now help Bucky with his armor."

It ended up taking longer than you thought it would, what with their squabbles ("hold still, Barnes" — "it's pinching things that shouldn't be pinched!") but eventually, you did make it out. Bucky was in a full suit of armor, helmet down to mask his face. He was a lot more graceful in it than you expected, which you had to give credit for.

Then came the stables.

"Uh," said Bucky, pushing up his helmet. "I didn't know we were riding."

"How else would we get there?" asked Steve, leading your horse, Hyde, out, then his.

"You'll have to share," you said. "It'll look suspicious if we return with an extra horse."

Bucky nodded, then glanced between you. He took a step towards Steve's horse, a sturdy stallion, meant for traveling long distances. The stallion whinnied loudly, rearing up.

"Steve!" you panicked. Steve cursed, hurrying to soothe him. Bucky backed away, looking a little green.

"I... um," you began. "You can take Hyde with me. He's quite gentle. Stallions are sometimes unpredictable and this one prefers Steve anyhow."

Bucky didn't look convinced.

"Right. It's just, I don't ride often, being a pirate and all…"

"Well, you can't very well walk. Knights would never escort the princess on foot. You might be questioned."

Bucky watched as you mounted Hyde. As he approached, Hyde nickered, tossing his head. You hushed him, keeping him steady. Bucky put one firm hand on Hyde's neck. He whinnied louder, mane flying. You frowned, tightening the reins.

"That's odd. He isn't normally skittish."

You clicked your tongue, riding closer to Bucky, who didn’t look too pleased either.

"Horses don't like me much," he confessed when Hyde stomped one hoof. "I really oughta just walk."

Hyde whinnied, snorting, but eventually, he did let Bucky on. He was a gentleman, holding on with only a single hand on your arm. Bucky was warm, almost too much so for the summertime. He smelled like leather and salt, solid and sure behind you. You shared a look with Steve, whose expression was unreadable.

"We should go. If he becomes too much trouble, walk him the rest of the way," grunted Steve.

"He already doesn't like me," said Bucky.

"I was talking to Hyde."

No one bothered you. In your official dress, away from the shroud of your common cloak, you were every bit regal a princess should be. With two knights at your side, most people kept their heads down as you passed.

It was a blessing and a curse. Steve's grudge with your frequent disappearance wasn't unfounded, but you couldn't enjoy true freedom bogged down by palace guards and their pomp.

"Which one's your ship?" asked Steve.

"There, with the wolf flag," replied Bucky.

There was only one guard, like Steve had said. Bucky hopped off, as did Steve. They broke off from the path to go around a barn, to the ship. You continued straight.

"Y/N, no!" hissed Steve. "Y/N—"

"Pardon me," you called loudly, trotting over. "Guard? Oh, guard?"

"Your Highness?" said the guard. "Your Highness, you should not be without an escort."

"Yes," you agreed and dismounted, watching Steve and Bucky slip past out of the corner of your eye. "You're right. But I just wanted to be at the docks. And you're here! So really, I'm not without protection, am I?"

"I suppose not, milady. But you shouldn't be here alone. I am not supposed to leave my post."

"Oh?" you said, leaning in. "Why is that? Did something happen?"

"Well…"

"It must be something highly important if you're on duty," you cooed. "I know my father would trust you with anything."

A cough that sounded more like a laugh came from behind some boxes. You cleared your throat, smiling even wider.

"Well, yes," said the guard, puffing his chest. "The king can trust me."

"Don't you trust me too, Sir…"

"Gouven," he answered.

"Sir Gouven, of course! I've heard of all your noble deeds."

"You have?"

"Why, certainly!"

Steve and Bucky were still preparing the ship. You hummed sweetly, being sure to block his view.

"Of course I have," you reiterated. "How could I not? You were brilliant in the last battle. The way you handled that lion!"

"L-lion? Oh. Yes, of course. Thank you, Your Highness. Though I really must escort you back to the castle. I'll beckon another guard, one moment…"

"Uh," you began, mind racing. "No, that's alright! Truly. I won't tell a soul."

"I am afraid I cannot leave you unaccompanied. It would be against my honor as a guard."

Oh, brother. You rolled your eyes as he turned, following him around.

"Sir Gouven, my escort will arrive shortly, I swear—"

"I cannot take that chance, milady."

He started walking towards the ship. Shit, shit.

"Oh! Oh, I'm feeling quite faint!"

And down you went.

Gouven did not react well. You made a mental note not to rely on him in case of emergency. While he ran around like a headless chicken, trying to decide what to do with you, you opened your eyes.

Bucky and Steve were both frozen in concern. Steve looked ready to leap to your aid. You lifted your head, because really? Did they think you could faint on command like that?

Go, you mouthed, waving your hand, and they both jumped into action. Idiots.

"Gods, gods," Gouven bemoaned. "They're going to lock me in the stockade after this! Stay right there, Your Highness. I'll return!"

You shut your eyes, rolling onto your back. It was a pleasant summer day and the sun felt good on your face. You sneezed, then yawned. Summers were always lovely at home.

"Having fun?"

You opened one eye, adjusting to the shadow cast over you from Steve's frame.

"That was quick."

"He's efficient," Steve admitted. "Bothersome as he is, I'm sure he makes a wonderful pirate."

"Sir Steven, I'm touched."

You grinned at Bucky, who had a coil of rope slung over one shoulder, his pack on the other. You reached out one hand and Steve sighed before gently pulling you up.

"It wasn't a compliment," he grumbled.

"'M choosing to take it as one," chirped Bucky.

He turned and bowed properly, looking up at you through his lashes.

"Princess, I owe you my life. If you ever need anything, well, I'll be in port again shortly. Somewhere."

"That's kind of you. But I'm just glad you're safe, Bucky."

He took your hand and lightly kissed your knuckles. You smiled, unable to help your giggle.

"Speaking of, you ought to get going," interrupted Steve. "Gouven will be back soon."

Slowly, Bucky released your hand, glancing at Steve.

"Fine, fine. Stevie, been a pleasure. Keep up that right par, and don't get distracted."

Bucky winked, saluting, rings glinting in the sunlight. He jogged back to his boat. It took another minute before he was rolling off, sails fluttering.

"I like him," you decided.

"Hmph."

You smirked, nudging Steve's rib.

"You're just upset he bested you in a duel."

"He's full of himself."

"He's charming!"

"Far too reckless."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is Steve Rogers lecturing about being reckless?"

"Yes," he said, straight-faced. "It's a terrible habit, you know."

"Uh-huh."

"Not to mention, he's a disaster with a horse."

"Well, not everyone can be as perfect as you, Steve."

"Please promise me that you will not be helping any more pirates," he said, helping you onto Hyde, then climbing onto the stallion.

"We'll see," you replied, riding ahead of him. "Today was rather thrilling!"

"You're lucky it wasn't Jones here."

"Oh, as if that man has anything beyond weeds inside his head."

"Your Highness!"

You and Steve stopped, halfway to the castle.

"Your Highness! Your High—"

Sir Gouven skidded to a stop, hunched over. He panted, holding a vial of salts. You tilted your head.

"Sir Gouven. Whatever do you have that for?"

"You—you'd fainted, milady! I thought… I thought that…"

"Oh, that! It was hardly a faint. I was merely resting my eyes."

His face was covered in sweat and he himself looked ready to collapse.

"But…but you were unconscious."

"Not particularly. I was terribly tired, you know."

His mouth opened and closed like a fish's. You took pity.

"Still," you continued. "Thank you, Sir Gouven. I will surely tell Father about your dedication to the crown."

"Huh?"

"And look! Sir Steven's here. Isn't that fortuitous?

"Gouven," greeted Steve, nodding. "Hard at work, I see."

"I—but… milady, are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He looked blankly at the vial.

"Are you alright, Sir Gouven?"

"I… think so."

"Good," you said. "Goodbye, then."

Steve chuckled once you were out of earshot. "Poor Gouven. He's a decent knight."

"I'll tell Father to award him a medal of valor. You knights love those, don't you?"

"That's not exactly how it works, Y/N."

"Come now, Steve. We just smuggled a wanted pirate back to his ship. I think I can manage a medal."

You glanced back. The docks were tiny now, the ocean a small strip of blue on the horizon.

****

"Your Highness?" came a voice from outside your chambers. She knocked softly. Your maid, Petunia.

"Yes?" you called back.

"I don't mean to disturb, my lady, but the king desires your presence for dinner."

You sighed, turning over.

"Do I have to?"

"I think it would be best, my lady," was the quiet reply. "You've not dined together in many weeks."

"Because he's been away," you grumbled, dragging yourself out of bed.

"Would you like me to help you dress, my lady?"

"No, thank you, Petunia. I'll be down shortly."

You opted for a simple blue gown, not bothering with accessories. As frustrating as your father could be, he'd never been too strict about attire in the castle. As long as you were clothed, you were decent.

"Ah, Y/N! Please, come in."

You entered the dining hall at your father's beckoning. He was quite pleasant, more than you'd seen him in many months. You took the seat to his left as you usually did. The extra setting across from you didn't escape your notice.

"Father, welcome home. How was your trip?"

"Good, very good. There was much to discuss. And now, I think it's time I include you in the discussions. You are old enough, after all."

"I am," you agreed, perking up. "What sort of discussions?"

"I hope you have not started without me, my king," interrupted a smooth voice.

Lord Pierce leisurely took his seat, meeting your eye immediately. The king's advisor, and your father's right-hand man for many years, Pierce was the one to suggest you be removed from any political meetings.

"My lady, how nice to see you. We've not spoken in a long time."

"No, we have not," you said, waiting until he broke eye contact first. Good.

"I was just about to tell Y/N the news," your father continued, helping himself to a thick slab of roast.

"Oh, splendid. I did say she ought to be in the know, when the dust had settled."

"How thoughtful of you, Lord Pierce," you smiled, gummy and fleeting.

"I may as well get on with it. I have made the decision to rescind our treaty with the Kingdom of Faleron."

Your fork clattered onto your plate. Pierce calmly bit into a honeyed apple.

"What? But you and King Faleron have been allies for nearly two decades."

"It has come to my attention that strange magics have been reared toward our city. He is our closest neighbor, and King Lahan has expressed to me in confidence that he has noticed poxes plaguing his own kingdom. Faleron is the only one among the six kings who is known to be sympathetic to magic users. And I excused it at first, but no more."

"But Father, that makes no sense," you argued. "You and Faleron are friends. You benefit mutually from your alliance. It would be foolish to upset you or any of the other kings."

"Yes, daughter, it is quite foolish. And that is why we must wage war."

"Have you tried discussing it with Faleron?" you asked.

"Of course he has," interjected Pierce. "Your father is a reasonable man, Your Highness. Faleron denied it and insulted your father. The nerve of him, offending a man who's shown nothing but grace and a fair hand."

"He said this to your face, Father?" you balked. King Faleron was a hothead but he'd never been known to lose his temper towards his fellow kings.

"Pierce went on my behalf. Words were exchanged."

"I see."

"Regardless," continued Pierce. "We cannot be seen as weak. With magic spreading, it would be certain doom to retreat now."

"Faleron's men are barbaric," you said. "They'll tear the city apart. Our people don't deserve a war, Father."

"I do not want this war anymore than you do, Y/N, but it's not something we can ignore. We will have the support of neighboring kingdoms. Do not worry."

"I just think it's risky to move so quickly."

"Risky when we have spies?" your father countered.

You frowned. Pierce continued to eat.

"Spies?"

"Surely you saw the extra guards at the docks today," sniffed Pierce. "I hear you were out without an escort, Your Highness."

"Actually, I was accompanied by Sir Steven. But thank you very much for your concern, Lord Pierce, unnecessary as it is."

Pierce's eye twitched.

"Steven is a good man," your father jovially confirmed. "I trust him with my life. But I do not want you alone, Y/N. It's true. We had a dirty pirate escape today. Captain Jones informed me that he was a spy of Faleron's."

Bucky? A spy?

"Oh my," you said, picking at your potatoes. "Will they catch this brute?"

"If he ever returns, you can be sure they will," replied the king. "Jones' men are the best."

"You're right, Father. Especially that one knight, Sir Gouven. He's been very good to me."

"Has he now? Well, I shall keep that in mind."

"I did not know you were familiar with the knights, my lady," said Pierce, chewing on a chicken bone. "Well, except for Sir Steven. You two are rather… close."

"Certainly, I would meet the men who would lay their lives down for this kingdom. It is important to know where people's loyalties lie, don't you think, Lord Pierce?"

"Quite." He stood, tapping his chin with his napkin. "And now, I must retire. If you'll both graciously excuse me. I must plan for my journey to consult King Lahan."

"Of course, Alexander," enthused your father. "I thank you for all your help."

"It has been an honor and pleasure, my king. Thank you for your cooperation."

Pierce nodded at you. You nodded back, waiting until his footsteps disappeared.

"Father, please do not declare war on Faleron. It is a horrible idea. People will die."

"I will not discuss it any further, Y/N. Magic is dangerous, and I cannot let it run free in my kingdom."

"Don't you think it's strange that King Faleron would respond so harshly? You two are practically brothers."

He sighed.

"I wish things were different. He is like a brother to me. But this isn't something I can excuse. Faleron has always been a loose cannon, Y/N. This is best for us and the kingdom."

The king rose, smiling gently.

"Try not to fret over it, my daughter. I know you, and how you worry. Everything will be alright."

You sat, long after he left, staring at the bits of honeyed apple and meat bones.

What if everything wasn't alright?

#rookthorne’s reactions #Lana’s loves #On Wings of Fate

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