#she's moping in her throne all alone

[beachesgetpeaches]

there have been random rumours about Pedro Pascal leaving The Mandalorian and I just

1) I wouldn't be quick to trust these + we'll find out when we need to find out.

2) Do not think they would let him go shoot TLOU, accommodate him so he doesn't even have to be on set, then write him out idk.

But ALSO imagine if they did. At this point, reading people's comments (and btw the fandom is key here bcs I promise you casual viewers don't consistently attribute to a show's popularity)... anyway, it kind of seems like it would be them shooting themselves in the leg. Because from what I've seen lots of people are still watching for Din and Grogu. And lots of people are still connecting to Din (and Grogu??) from our viewer side.

And honestly same goes for me so far.

I'm not saying I don't care about other characters at all, like it's cool to see Bo-Katan be a badass and all. And the rest of the Mandalorians are interesting to get to know. But the show has not made me connect with them. Bo was present briefly (kinda) in S2, with no selfless motives btw, and then my next view of her is clearly her downfall (which we haven't been shown, but told so eh I can't care much), which is supposed to be her low point before her inevitable come back. I have not yet connected with her "cause as a character", I don't quite get why I should be rooting for her. Hell, I care more about Greef Karga and the development of Nevarro at this point because over the seasons I've grown to like him as a character and respect what he is doing for his home.

Anyway, imo not having Din would cost the show a lot especially since this season still seems to be failing at having people connect with any other character other than Din.

[unhingedangstaddict]

Here's some more of my bucktommy mpreg fic with pregnant Tommy

At first after the break-up Tommy did his best to keep himself together. Go to work, act fine, do his job, don’t think about Evan, don’t bring the mood down by being miserable, wait until he’s alone to break down. And for a while it works, mostly. Those closest to him have been worried since the beginning, but they imagined they’d be less worried over time, not more worried.

A month after the breakup, Lucy’s genuinely concerned and also honestly, kinda over Tommy’s mood. They were supposed to be working-out together this morning then getting brunch and he texted her at the last minute.

Tommy : Can’t get out of bed. Sorry

And maybe Tommy deserved compassion, and understanding. But Tommy was able to act fine three days post breakup. Four weeks later and now he can’t get out of bed? Lucy got in her truck and drove to Tommy’s house, hellbent and determined to set him straight.

Lucy, Sal, the people that Lucy and Tommy liked at the 217, and most of the folks at the 118 all believed the breakup didn’t have to be the end of Tommy and Buck’s relationship. That it was still fixable. But Tommy couldn’t turn off his self-sabotaging tendencies long enough to admit they had a chance, and according to Diaz, Buckley was heartbroken and moping and seemingly didn’t have the guts to try and fix things for fear of further rejection.

Lucy had a key to Tommy’s place in case of an emergency, and when she got there she let herself in. “Tommy!” She called out as she entered the house. “It’s me! You’re back sliding man! This is ridiculous!”

Rather than any kind of actual response, Lucy heard the sound of Tommy throwing up.

And she wasn’t fucking heartless, despite what some people liked to think. Lucy went into the bathroom attached to Tommy’s bedroom and found him sitting on the floor hugging the porcelain throne. He looked awful and Lucy understood now why Tommy said he couldn’t get out of bed. She got a glass of water and offered it to Tommy.

Tommy took the water and first rinsed his mouth and spit, then drank a good bit of it. “Sorry to cancel on you Luce,” He started.

“Appreciate it, but not necessary. You weren’t kidding. You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” Tommy said sarcastically.

Continue reading on ao3

[backjustforberena]

rambling anon here!

i’m not gonna lie, i wanted… more from the reactions that we got. and not simply with corlys. i wanted more from rhaenyra, from baela. hell, even daemon, bc she was the last relative that he had from his childhood and now she’s gone, and so is his mother’s dragon, although i don’t think i want to talk about daemon in relation to his mother for a long time lol.

but i will focus on corlys, who is quickly becoming my favorite character to study for some reason lol. i wish we got immediate reactions only because i know steve would have knocked it out of the park. but when we first see him, alone in this hall that was all for her, sitting on this throne that truly means nothing to him anymore, heart broken and surrounded by ghosts - not just rhaenys’, but his children’s, hell, even vaemond’s - with that lone tear falling down his cheek, it’s clear that he’s not the man that he was when we met him.

we didn’t see his reaction to laena’s death, at least not the initial one, but with laenor, his immediate reaction was to reach for rhaenys. and yes when she rebuffs him he turns to anger but his first reaction was to reach for her. his anchor. his rock.

and now he’s free floating, and the desire to run again is there, because high tide is not home anymore, all the riches that he has accumulated mean nothing to him anymore because his family, his wife no longer there, and the sea has always been a second home, maybe his first before his marriage. but he doesn’t. he can’t. not when he owes it to rhaenys to be there for their grandchildren, to see this cause, her cause, through. but (and honestly this is my favorite thing lol) there’s this underlying resentment towards rhaenyra.

from steve, we know that corlys supports rhaenyra’s claim simply because viserys declared her his heir. that simple. it doesn’t mean he believes that she would be a good ruler. he doesn’t really care for her as a person - laenor is gone because of her, and now, his wife has died fighting her cause. “that girl destroys everything she touches.” he said in 1x10 (rough quoting but something to that effect), and the anger that is simmering just below the surface. of course, he’s not simply angry with her, there’s anger towards himself, the realm, the gods, but i do think at this point he thinks his family would have been better off if it never got involved with her. It’s a realization he had in 1x10 but I think will be more prominent as we move forward. hindsight is always 20/20 though.

he’s almost blinded by this resentment of rhaenyra until baela sets him straight. baela, who is so much like the women he’s lost. his wife’s heir. his wife who told him again and again that driftmark should pass through laena’s line. and he doesn’t have the confidence that rhaena will make a good lady of driftmark, but he does have faith in baela. baela was raised their. baela is the best of his wife, of his daughter. baela makes him reconsider being the hand.

i will say as a little aside, i prefer the reasoning that baela’s actress gave for turning down the offer, that corlys had his chance. i like thag much better than baela just being a targaryen heir. she can be both a targaryen and a velaryon. laena was both. rhaenys was both.

do i think we will get more? i hope so. we still have the line “what i do now, i do for her, i do for my wife.” that i’m expecting to hear. and it should bleed into his interactions with alyn and addam honestly. one of his last interactions with rhaenys was that she knew that he had betrayed her, that they were a product of that betrayal. would he feel like the decision to make one of them his heir feel like he was betraying her all over again?

another random little aside, i do like that laenor and corlys grieve very similarly - the drinking and staring off at sea. like corlys judged him (because he did it publicly instead of corlys’ private moping) but look where he got it from!

all in all, this was a very long way of me saying i liked what we got from the ep, but wished we got more!

Hello, rambling anon! Lovely to hear from you this morning. I definitely sympathise with the writers (sort of, ish, against my better judgment) because the way they are telling the story, they have written themselves into a corner and they do have to deal with a shorter episode count and they have a lot to cover that means things are a lot more "telling" than "showing" - and they do, and I've spoken about this before, have a horrid habit of cutting time which leads to cut reactions.

We don't see anyone actually receive the news of Rhaenys's death. Unless, possibly, Rhaena is learning in her brief scene, but even then, we get a look and then cut away. By trying to get to the next event or issue or plot point, they cut time. I don't think it's helpful to measure impact, in this case. Sometimes it's okay, but here, I think it mutes things for both sides of the conflict. It arguably slows it down because nothing seems specifically reactive or impulsive.

In terms of the specific mourning reactions, I don't think I wanted more, I just wanted more recent. Different. I would have preferred to see people get the news. Especially Corlys. But in terms of more? I mean, always, because I enjoy the characters, but I felt like I got what I needed to get from the scenes that we got. Does that make sense? I understood his brief little journey with the episode, going from A to B, from being lost to possibly (?) finding purpose by accepting the role of Hand. It was a bit ambiguous as to if he has accepted it wholeheartedly, but I'm sure that's going to be covered in the next episode. I know how he's feeling, I just don't know how he felt when he got the news. Which is information I would have preferred, I think.

when we first see him, alone in this hall that was all for her, sitting on this throne that truly means nothing to him anymore, heart broken and surrounded by ghosts [...] it’s clear that he’s not the man that he was when we met him.

It's a really powerful image to me. It's the most undone we've seen him. His hair isn't done, he's wearing an outfit that's the most sloppy we've ever seen him, he's so heavy with his footsteps and then he just sits down and you can just feel how tired he is and how devastated. He looks like he's in physical pain and I think that's possibly what marks his grief out from the other displays shown in that episode. He looks like he's in pain. I absolutely think he'd trade it all for her.

Do I think he's a changed man? Ooooh I don't know. I think it's very difficult to get rid of a flaw, especially when you've lost the person who can possibly act as a compass for that. So, I'm still expecting him to be proud, brash, ambitious and selfish. Is he the man we met? Absolutely not. But he's going to be put into positions that will play into the man that he was and he'll have to make choices, big or small: at the council, about his legacy, about his sons. How that will be impacted by either the loss or Rhaenys or the memory of Rhaenys or his love for Rhaenys remains to be seen.

we didn’t see his reaction to laena’s death, at least not the initial one, but with laenor, his immediate reaction was to reach for rhaenys. and yes when she rebuffs him he turns to anger but his first reaction was to reach for her. his anchor. his rock.

And I think that plays into this idea that I'm floating. What is he when he hasn't got her? When we're past the initial devastation of her death and when he has to engage in the political games around him and the war before him? Because his reaction, after she's rejected him, is to lash out at the guards. It's to go with impulse. It's to satisfy himself. Then he goes to sea for six years because it's what he wants to do.

So we've not only got the lack of Rhaenys to keep him grounded, we've also got the lack of Rhaenys to keep him from any new perspective, unless he either gets that influence from somewhere else or he will deliberately take a step back and think about what she'd think or advise etc. After all, half of his desire to go for the Iron Throne so vehemently was out of his love for her and getting justice for her. I can see him justifying choices because he thinks he's doing right by her or for "them". Whether she'd actually agree, I don't know! I don't even know if the writers will go down this route, but it's interesting to think about. He's not going to become pure and selfless overnight, especially within the environment he's about to plunge back into.

and now he’s free floating, and the desire to run again is there, [...] but he doesn’t. he can’t. not when he owes it to rhaenys to be there for their grandchildren, to see this cause, her cause, through.

It's a very interesting change. It's implied in Fire & Blood that becoming Hand of the Queen is accepted just because that's what'll do it and there's no back and forth and no idea that it wouldn't work or it's in doubt. That's what seals the deal, he's an ambitious man, that position is enough for him to come back into the fold and there's no idea that Corlys was ever reluctant to engage in the war in the first place. And they start planning an assault and, certainly from my reading, you get the sense that that is also part of the deal: almost as if he's fueled by the idea of taking out those who took his wife from him. It's motivated in a very masculine way: power, rage, ambition, vengeance.

Making him continue because it is her cause, and the reason she died and a dream that she died for is really cool to me. Corlys has two motivations and Rhaenys is always one of them and, arguably, the strongest (because Rhaenys was also something that could curb him, whereas his ideas of legacy only ever enabled him and spurred him on with whatever cause he'd decided to rally for). Corlys is going to give everything to this because he's got nothing else.

And by making it Rhaenys's cause, rather than his own specifically, also leave things open to continue a fractious relationship with Rhaenyra. So far, this series, we haven't seen them interact. They shared a scene together but there's been little between them. As you say, Corlys supports Rhaenyra's claim simply because he thinks that's how the world works: he made a vow, he's honouring it. Viserys named her, and so that stands. He's got no affection for Rhaenyra herself.

he’s almost blinded by this resentment of rhaenyra until baela sets him straight. baela, who is so much like the women he’s lost. his wife’s heir.

Steve Toussaint recently gave an interview with The Ringer Podcast where he was asked about why Corlys offers Driftmark to Baela and it's pretty much exactly as you say it. He looks at her and he sees that spark. He sees that Baela is her mother's daughter and her grandmother's grandchild. She says: fine, do what you like, and he admires that spirit.

I also think there is a sense of just trying to hold on to what he can. We talk about how he has these ideas of legacy but he has no heir. Certainly no heir in proximity to him: he's got Rhaena and Joffrey but Joffrey is just a kid and Rhaena (in his mind) isn't particularly suitable because she isn't equipped and both are far from his reach or influence. He can't GIVE Driftmark away, in his mind. It's useless and empty and worthless and he has no family that actually belong to him and only him. He's really isolated.

(As an aside, I dislike the idea that Corlys is dismissing Rhaena because she's a girl. I don't think that's really the case when he's dismissing Joffrey as well and they're both for the same reasons - he doesn't make direct reference to her sex as a reason. Nor do I like the narrative that Rhaenys was pushing for Rhaena. The conversation isn't very serious, she's says there is Rhaena or Joffrey but doesn't press for either, just presents the options. But I'm aware that's a personal reading).

i will say as a little aside, i prefer the reasoning that baela’s actress gave for turning down the offer, that corlys had his chance. i like that much better than baela just being a targaryen heir. she can be both a targaryen and a velaryon. laena was both. rhaenys was both.

Yes, I like that as well. There's obviously a lot of unspoken history between the pair: Corlys buggered off for six years and Baela felt that but also, perhaps more importantly, saw the effect that had on Rhaenys.

I think it's also a bit of Baela choosing her Targaryen side, not because she's not proud of being a Velaryon or because she can't be a Velaryon, but because her Targaryen legacy is what matters to her. Being a dragonrider is what matters to her and what will aid her in being like and honouring these incredibly important female figures in her life. We get the impression that Baela is sticking with Rhaenyra and engaging in this war in order to honour Rhaenys and a reaction in part to her death. So it makes sense that this is just a continuation of that. This is her purpose, not Driftmark. Being more like her grandmother is not being Lady of the Tides. And she owes her grandmother far more than she owes her grandfather.

do i think we will get more? i hope so. we still have the line “what i do now, i do for her, i do for my wife.” that i’m expecting to hear. and it should bleed into his interactions with alyn and addam honestly.

I absolutely think we're going to get more. I'm very much looking forward to "what I do now, I do for her" - I am hoping it's something he says to Rhaenyra, when he accepts the job of Hand. It could almost sound like terms. Like: I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing this her. Don't push me, don't mess me about, and then as soon as this is done, I'm out. Another alternative that I've mused is that it could be something said to one of his sons, when they speak about naturalisation. I think that's plausible. A little admission, a little vulnerability, especially if they question him.

would he feel like the decision to make one of them his heir feel like he was betraying her all over again?

Steve actually touches on this in The Ringer Podcast (you should check the interview out, it's on Youtube, about 3 hours in). And from that, what I gather, is that he thinks this isn't betraying Rhaenys. That the last interaction was some form of blessing. Or, at the very least, she'd understand. Which, I think she would have, if you want my two cents. She wouldn't like it but an heir is what he needs and he needs an heir that can really take the reins in the event that he dies in war and they need to take over the Fleet tomorrow. And this is the best option: the most pragmatic option for him. I also don't think she'd want him to be alone. We can absolutely separate Rhaenys's pain and her feelings over the betrayal from her thoughts surrounding Corlys's heir dilemma, I think.

It's also the most grown-up option, which she's always advocated for. For him to pull his head out of the sand and do the painful thing in order for a greater good and greater security. I think the question I have, left over, is whether this will have any impact on her memory? The idea that he "shames" her by doing this.

I think it's a tightrope. It could easily go unaddressed (especially in this show tbh, we've got lots else going on), focusing on the reaction that Corlys has these sons rather than how that reflects on Rhaenys - and the reaction that Corlys has these sons are not going to be earth-shattering because he's a bloke and having children out of wedlock, even whilst married to a woman, in Westeros is par for the course. Corlys's personal shame over the whole situation is sort of an anomaly. It's also just, objectively, a good thing that he has these sons (for the Blacks) because they're going to turn out to be pretty handy.

[shamelessmagazineangel]

The Tales of Asher

Story One: Princess Anastasia Angel of Tansia

Let us begin this Tale properly. Heed ye that will, and those fools whom won’t. This is the story of the lost princess of a long felled kingdom, her name all but forgotten. She is said to be possessed by the Demon King Ezizh, and cast away from her time.

...the ground rumbles. The sky a dark, despairing red. And, with great misfortune, at the center of this calamity was a princess, shocked and in mortified awe of the scenario taking place within her throne room. Today was her official coronation as ruler, or it would be. Her parents lay sacrificed on their thrones, as a large, imposing demon stared down upon...

An undead fish lord. Or so he proclaimed.

“C’mooooon Ezzy! It’s my birthday!” The Undead Lord spoke in a raspy, hoarse voice, wearing nothing but a loose robe. The stench of death was powerful enough that it made Anastasia recoil from disgust, but never mustering the courage to run. The Demon- Ezzy, as the Undead Lord referred to it- spoke in a language unknown to Anastasia. The Undead Lord seemed to mope in disappointment, before speaking.

“No fun Ezster! Oh well.” He went to leave... before rapidly whipping around to where Anastasia stood. “What about you, girlie? You wanna come to my B-day bash?!” He spoke in crazed tone and used unfamiliar dialect. Anastasia, out of fear, did not move. “What is it, huh? Cat-boy-got-your-tongue?” The Undead Lord tilted his head, then made an O-shape with his mouth as he turned to the grisely visage of the Princess’s parents’ corpses.

“Those were your parents?”

Anastasia nods.

“Oof, sorry kid, too bad THIS PILE OF UNFUN-” he jerked his thumb in the vague direction of the Demon, “is suuuuuper stingy when it comes to summoning. Like, c’mon, who doesn’t like Orphan Gem Golems anymore? Those were all the rage a century ago.” He let his arms hang by his side, before continuing, “Welp! If mean ol’ Ezizh won’t go, I’ll just leave.”

And, in a brief flash of light (and poorly disguised footsteps), the Undead Lord took his leave. Anastasia collapses, in shock of the situation around her, tears falling down her face as she cried. The red sky was something foretold in legends.

They had angered the Celestial Gods, in some way. Her kingdom would be ruined. Her knights, soon to be consumed by either the monsters that came or by the destruction of the kingdom. Her retainer, Gation…

“Tell me, child.” A voice emanates from all around her… the Demon Ezizh looks upon Anastasia. “Do you wish to live?”

The Princess looked up stunned. Frightened, most likely alone, desperate to live…

She accepted the deal.

“Very well, child. You will serve as a vessel for I, Lord Ezizh, Demon of Gluttony, Consumer of Magic, the Abyssal Maw. Your name is no longer Anastasia. You will serve me as Asher.” Ezizh cackles as Anastasia- Asher- now stood. “A sacrifice is required.” The Demon of Gluttony forced Asher to outstretch her right arm… and he swallowed it whole, as Ashers’ vision blurred, and went dark.

----------------------------------------------------------

Felt a little cute thought I might send (part of) a backstory of a D&D Character.

[dreaming-of-the-reality]

The fandom: Oh My God! I love Daemon! He’s a feminist and is my favourite character! Team Black all the way cause they’re the good guys!

Daemon:

- Beats a messenger who’s only job was to deliver a piece of paper

- He makes fun of his brothers newly deceased son because it means he has a higher chance of claiming of the throne, celebrating it in a tavern and brothel

- Stole a dragon egg by lying to his whore and to his brother saying he was marrying her and she was pregnant

- Took Rhaenyra out on a nightly stroll to then lead her into a brothel, dry hump her and then left her by herself (a 14 year old) in the silk streets

- Tried to ruin Rhaenyra’s reputation for the sole purpose of having her to himself

- Killed his own wife who was innocent in this whole situation and was disrespected by him so many times, by bashing her face in with a rock after scaring her horse

- Took second best option which was Laena but didn’t really love her as she deserved, took her away from her home, denied her request to go back to see her parents to which she then died.

- Barely pays any attention to his twin girls

- Married his niece after planning the murder of her husband (again innocent) and In the books he was murdered but the series let him get away - this meant that Rhaenys and Corlys were left without children all thanks to Daemon

- Had his daughters attend the wedding of their aunt/cousin and their dad a few days after their mothers funeral

- Didn’t care too much when his own daughters came in with their faces covered in blood after fighting with Aemond and instead tended to Rhaenyra’s kids

- Sailed away to Dragon stone with Rhaenyra

- came back to Kingslanding only to not believe anything Alicent says despite the fact he has been absent for the last 6 years and has no idea what’s going on

- Kills Vaemond for stating facts after taunting him to say them

- Accuses the greens of killing Viserys because again he doesn’t like them, the man literally had a hole in his head… he couldn’t walk, like barely talk, and Daemon still won’t accept the fact that maybe he just died?

- Leaves Rhaenyra alone during her childbirth despite her wailing and calling his name, instead he just wants to plan the war he’s always dreamed of

- Tries to push for a war by disobeying Rhaenyra’s commands

- Doesn’t say a word to Rhaenyra after she just squeezed out their stillborn daughter by herself, instead he goes to mope on the beach

- claims another dragon - probably to be more powerful when one of his daughters still doesn’t even have one.

- Strangles Rhaenyra because she doesn’t want to have a war and refuses to make the first move.

(In the books or history of ASOIAF)

- Sends assassins to kill one of Aegon and Helaenas children as a “son for a son” after Luke is killed by Aemond, these assassins then torture Helaena into picking out of her 3 children which one should die, when she refuses to make a decision they threaten to rape her like 3-6 year old daughter. She chooses her youngest as she thinks it will be better as he won’t even know what’s going on, they end up killing the older one which ultimately leads Helaena killing herself.

And again I’m left wondering why people consider him good? How people honestly think Alicent is worse than him, or even Aemond. Daemon is a horrible character, he’s an asshole, only wants for himself, and his actions in the last episode (episode 10) makes it seem as though the only reason he married Rhaenyra was to sit on the throne as she was his last and only option left.

I think Rhaenyra knows as well, considering she was eyeing him as he stared at Viserys crown, then was watching him wearily when he placed it on her head.

And don’t get me started on Rhaenyra either, Daemon is more violent and self-centred but Rhaenyra is more spoiled and self-centred.

Just to list a few of the reasons why Rhaenyra isn’t all good no matter how bad you feel for her now

- Constantly got away with the notion of refusing to marry despite the fact if she was in any other house and their father demanded their daughter marry, they would have no choice

- Lied to her father and Alicent about the night Daemon took her to the brothel and implied Otto was lying (he technically wasn’t) which ultimately got him sent away

- Claimed she was still a “maiden” after sleeping with Ser Criston, again, something she got away with as the Maester claimed the tea was from Viserys meaning he didn’t believe her but kept quite

- Refused all advances Alicent made in order to regain or at least heal their broken friendship after being told she would marry the king (something she couldn’t refuse, and was manipulated into doing by her father)

- When told to marry Laenor, she claimed she would do her duty to the realm by having his child, which she didn’t do and even admitted they barely tried for one.

- Cut her tour off early cause she was bored

- Seeked her own pleasure from Harwin, setting her bastard kids up for defeat by trying to persuade people to think her and her husband, both having white hair birthed three dark haired boys.

- Refused to ever admit it even though it was obvious

- Got away with it considering Viserys always tried to deflect Alicents advances to do something about it

- proposed her bastard child should sit the Driftmark throne, which would mean the death of true house Valeryon

- After seeing her son cut out another boy (her brothers) eye, she instead (not asking her kids why he did that, or told him he shouldn’t) wanted action be taken because her sons were called bastard by a 10 year old but no action against her son because in her eyes they did nothing wrong

- it was 4v1 and he was supposed to be asleep? Why does he have a dagger Rhaenyra?

- Was satisfied with “making peace” even though all her son got was a broken nose, and Alicents son lost an eye

- As Alicent said, Rhaenyra never had to sacrifice anything, to get where she was, vs Alicent who had to sacrifice everything

- Conspired with Daemon (after having sex with him again commuting adultery for the second time) to kill her husband so she can marry him

- Left Kingslanding which meant she only got to spend a day with her father after not seeing him for 6 years, and then left him to die alone again

- Got Vaemond killed for again stating the truth

- Accused the greens of killing her father who was on the brink of death before she left

And yeah, that’s just a few. I’m not going to start on Luke either, that will be a different day, different time.

So if you have gotten this far, which I’m sure no one has lol, you can tell I am 100% team Green. It’s poetic because the team your drawn to side with is team black because it has the main characters, they are made to look like the good guys where as team green is made to look evil.

If you really put it into perspective with everyone’s actions, team black has done worse things than team green by far.

[cruelfeline]

Some time last week, some of us were chatting about Hordak's character development, and how much of it is less apparent than, say, Catra's. Or Adora's. Given that he's not a main character (is he even a secondary? I wonder...), this isn't necessarily surprising: the show simply doesn't focus enough on him to give him front-and-center scenes. He doesn't get the moments of clear introspection we see with our mains.

That doesn't, however, mean that there's no development at all. Rather, it means that a lot of Hordak's motivations and thought processes end up conveyed in more subtle ways, often requiring a bit of dedicated assessment from the viewer. Essentially: very rarely does the show clearly state what Hordak is feeling, but with some attention to detail, one can, I think, fairly accurately deduce it.

There are plenty of scenes one can assess in this fashion, but I'm going to focus on a specific one because it's a great example of how much detail can be packed into some scenery and a couple of lines.

That scene is the one involving him and Catra at the beginning of season four.

We open with a pan through Hordak's sanctum, with special attention being drawn to the fact that everything is an absolute mess. Cables are torn and sparking. Heavy machinery lays strewn about in various states of disrepair.

Vitrines that were shattered during the portal incident haven't even been drained, let alone repaired. The scene uses Catra to highlight the abnormality of this: she clearly sees the destruction around her and appears confused, unsettled, by it. Her expression and general demeanor inform us that something is wrong.

Furthermore, she is able to enter the sanctum without any sort of invitation, preamble, or indeed, without even announcing herself. Which is odd, isn't it? It's certainly not the sort of behavior we've seen from her before, and it's not the sort of thing that we've seen Hordak allow before. Previously, Catra has always been nervous when entering Hordak's territory. Or she's been summoned. This time, she appears to be neither.

Furthermore, she calls him "Hordak." Rather than Lord.

We now move to Hordak himself. Whereas we've always seen Hordak doing something in his sanctum - be it technical work or interacting with Entrapta or what-have-you - we come upon him doing all of nothing. Actually, we come upon him sitting, which is also... odd, isn't it? We've seen him sit on his throne, sure, but there's always been a sort of performative aspect to that. He sits on his throne, commanding respect, being "Lord Hordak." He doesn't really look like "Lord Hordak" here, does he?

We've also seen him sit after his syncopal episode, but that's not what's happening here, either.

Rather, Hordak is just... idle. Seated almost casually. Or, rather, seated without seeming to care what he looks like, or what is going on around him. He's not actively working on anything. He's not tending to the ungodly mess around him. He's just doing nothing. Which, if one thinks about it, we've never actually seen before.

Now we commence dialogue. Catra immediately focuses on aspects of the situation that are pertinent to the Horde's supposed goal: conquering Etheria. She points out the absence of Angella, which is an important thing! Strategically crucial, in fact. She focuses on the advantage the Horde now has, pointing out that the Rebellion is in disarray without its leader, and Hordak...

Hordak entirely ignores this all-important advantage (and indulges in an outburst of rage at "Entrapta") and focuses instead on one solitary thing: keeping Princesses out of the Fright Zone.

Which. That's important, sure, but it's also ignoring an incredible strategic opportunity: a bizarre error for someone whose chief goal is, supposedly, taking over Etheria. It's especially bizarre when one takes into account the fact that, having just lost their leader and thus being in disarray, it's fairly unlikely that any Princesses are going to attempt to breach the Fright Zone anytime soon. So... what gives?

The show doesn't specifically say it. It doesn't give Hordak a private monologuing scene, or even have any other character verbally point it out, but by noting all of the components of this scene, one can recognize that Hordak is, to put it plainly, depressed.

Hordak, a normally ordered, fastidious character, has been ignoring the utter wreckage of his home for the better part of a few months. He does not appear to care about the usual hierarchy he once so emphatically insisted upon, not reacting to Catra's informal way of meeting with and speaking to him.

Even though he is supposed to be hell-bent on conquering Etheria, he is completely idle. Furthermore, he totally disregards a glaring strategic opportunity and instead gives us an indicator of what is actually important to him: another Princess breaching the Fright Zone.

Another Princess entering his life, getting close to him, and hurting him. As Entrapta supposedly did.

This is the sort of scene that gives us indicators of what is going on in Hordak's inner world without necessitating that the show dedicate specific time to directly addressing it. Instead, we get alterations in background and behavior that, when assessed and compared to what we already know about Hordak, indicate a shift in his mental and emotional states.

But that's the thing: one has to pay attention. One has to notice that the sanctum is still a disaster, and one has to realize that this is abnormal. One has to note that Catra is no longer behaving the way she used to while approaching Hordak. One has to recognize that Hordak himself is idle in a way we have never seen. And one has to take care to not only see that Hordak doesn't respond to war-related strategic openings, but also identify what he does respond to.

One has to see these things and ask: Why is the sanctum still a mess? Why isn't Hordak working? Why isn't he attacking when the Rebellion is in disarray? Why?

By doing all of that, one can assess that there is not just anger at a territory breach and supposed betrayal here; if that was the case, then I doubt that moping among broken machinery would be the result. Rather, there is distress and pain bad enough that Hordak has fallen out of normal behavior and... well, essentially broken down.

Now, if one doesn't take the time to assess this scene and appreciate the interplay of environment and character behavior, then the fact that Hordak is depressed might not be apparent. Rather, one might see only the most obvious, loud thing - his angry outburst - and judge him an angry jerk; no more, no less.

Take a closer look, however, and one can see the confused, hurt individual that he actually is after the portal incident.

But: one has to look.

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

Fic idea

Everybody lives/Nobody dies AU set during the restoration of Erebor

Every able body has a job because its the beginning of winter and if they want to move into the mountain before it snows they have to clear it and patch any outer holes pretty fast

Bilbo can't do much because he's not as physically strong as a dwarf so he helps the wounded for a while and after that ends up in charge of food distribution and because hes the only one with the patience and (drilled in) manners ends up being the diplomatic negotiator when it comes to getting the food

and occasionally other items because dwarves dont want to deal with elves and elves dont want to deal with dwarves

So Thorin has recovered enough to start being a king again and it takes him a while (since hes either struggling to move about or sitting in meetings he cant run from) but he eventually realizes Bilbo has ended up with most of the work and duties assigned to the Queen Consort

Thorin feels all warm inside but he feels bad that Bilbo doesnt know about all this and decides he'll tell him next time he sees him...

...except next few times he sees him Thorin can't get him alone or Thorin gets called away. And then Thorin makes the mistake of imagining what it would be like if Bilbo was his consort... and never gets around to telling him because this way Thorin can keep playing pretend

This comes back to bite him of course because all his decisions do eventually

Way back when his grandfather was on the throne and they still had their kingdom Thorin's family set him up in a arranged marriage. It fell through after Smaug and last Thorin knew she was betrothed to some other dwarf

Well turns out he died before they ever got married and now that Thorin is on the throne and has his kingdom back her and her parents want to revive the engagement

They show up and Thorin obviously doesnt want to do this. He hasnt even fully recovered enough to actually bask in his glory and happiness. His largest argument against it is that Fili and Kili are already his heirs, and since arranged marriages are only created to ensure the continuation of the royal line (with the whole 1/3 population being female and therefore scarce) theres no need

Why all that is happening shes ambitious and tracks down Bilbo and asks to be included in the affairs, since is to be the Queen and he is doing the Queen's duties

Which of course Bilbo didnt know about as theres no royalty in the Shire

Thorin doesnt know she did this until she comes into a meeting with Bilbo since shes shadowing him (well as much as a Queen-to-be can shadow)

Thorin is angry. Bilbo looks mad. Thorin is now scared.

He thinks Bilbo is mad he's been doing a job equal to the King's workload and nobody told him. Thorin knows he shouldve given Kili that job as soon as he was recovered (since Fili as Crown Prince is shadowing Thorin) or got over his little fantasies and told Bilbo himself

Bilbo is actually mad that 1) Thorin is getting married and no one told him (which isnt actually confirmed but the bride acts like it is) 2) Thorin has been engaged this whole time (not true) 3) she keeps messing with his system and his charts

Bilbo as a hobbit has had manners drilled into his very core so of course he's "willing" to work with Thorin's betrothed for hours each day. Of course he acts like everything is fine. Of course he says nothing bad about her to her soon-to-be family

So of course Thorin (and Fili and Kili and Dis if shes there) think Bilbo is perfectly fine and any irritation he has is coming from having to keep adjusting his schedule and his system. Or elves. You can always count on elves to ruin your day

Then to Thorin's horror it starts to look like theyre becoming friends

Once Bilbo gets over the greatest of his itty-bitty (ha!) heartbreak he actually likes her. He really tries not to.

When that happens Thorin decides hes got to put a stop to this and puts his foot down. He is the king and his word is final. He is not getting married.

After that whole fiasco Bilbo is mad at him again 1) he has to adjust his system again to get it back where it was since hes obviously gonna have to go back to doing this himself without a partner 2) Thorin has no tact and now Bilbo and several others are scrambling to fix this mess 3) Thorin will marry someone eventually, and now the pain is being drawn out

Also Thorin never specified why he doesnt want to marry her and that brings up its own set of problems (such as insulting her whole house)

The company sends Biblo in to get answers on that last one because apparently hes the only one other than Dis that can drag answers out of him, and Dis knows but wont tell them.

Its the end of a very long day, Bilbo does not want to do this. Thorin really doesnt want to deal with this anymore tonight. Neither get what they want

Thorin says things that make this worse because of course he did

Anyways Thorin doesnt get his act together until hes informed that Bilbo has made preparations to leave mid-spring

Thorin is heartbroken which means he does one of two things: get angry and in your face, or get silent and isolate himself

Its only mid-winter now which means if someone doesnt do something this is gonna drag out another 3-4 months

Bilbo still goes around and sees his friends and basically ignores Thorin because he will not have the last weeks with the greatest friends he'll ever have get passed up because hes moping around over being in love with a king. A dwarf king. A king of incredibly secretive people. Most of his people dont trust him with anything beyond broad organization. As if he stood a chance

The days start getting longer which mean feasts will happen soon which mean Bilbo and Thorin have to actually talk to each other one-on-one

Thorin ends up swallowing his pride and apologizing. Goes back to what he thinks is the beginning of all this and also apologizes for not telling Bilbo about consort duties which gets Bilbo all confused because what does that have to do with anything? Unless its him making assumptions about hobbits? So Thorin has to explain why he didnt tell him that he was doing the consort's duties

Bilbo is all like "oh..." and instead of doing the easy thing and telling Thorin he likes him back he decides to go the embarrassing route of "thats why you kept giving me jewelry and gifts! You like me!" Eventually he gets around to telling Thorin that he likes him and he was only leaving because him getting married and therefore replacing Bilbo just reminded him that he doesnt belong here with dwarves and he really didnt want to still be in Erebor the next time the topic of weddings come up (just wait till Thorin finds out Kili fancies a elf... hopefully Fili's future engagement is less rough then this while fiasco)

[beifongsss]

playing with fire pt. 7 [sokka]

Pairing: Sokka x reader

Summary: You’re a Fire Nation citizen who saves Sokka and Katara from some angry villagers. Aang “convinces” you to come along with them, finding your knowledge of the nation useful. Not everything is smooth sailing though as both Water Tribe siblings have their doubts about you.

this will be a series :D this is a filler tbh set in the serpent’s pass

w.c.~3.1k

prologue. one. two. three. four. five. six.

.masterlist.

if you want to be added to the taglist PLEASE use the taglist form in my bio!

~

It had been a few days since the truth had been revealed and things had only gotten rougher. 

As you trudged through the desert with the rest of your group, you couldn’t help but think about just how twisted the relationships between you were. Tensions between you and the Water Tribe siblings were still sky high and the only people talking to you were two twelve year olds. Things on Toph’s end hadn’t gotten any better considering Aang blamed her for losing Appa. During the sky bison heist, you had been outside the library with Toph but had been knocked unconscious before the fight even began. As pissed as the group was with you, this was something that they couldn’t blame you for.

You still couldn’t help but feel guilty, knowing that blaming Toph wasn’t the right thing to do. She was so young, she definitely didn’t need that type of pressure placed upon her. Aang had been so upset that he had flown off to who knows where, claiming that he would be able to find Appa on his own. 

Things had come to a head when you all encountered the sandbenders again and Toph had told Aang that she recognized one of their voices. After finding out that they had muzzled Appa, Aang had entered the Avatar State and attacked before Katara managed to calm him down. It was then decided that the group would travel to Ba Sing Se and look for the sky bison there.

And that’s how the five of you found yourselves at the Full Moon Bay ferry station, tagging along with a family as you tried to get to the famed city. 

“I can’t believe how many people’s lives have been uprooted by the Fire Nation,” Katara commented casually, shooting you an unreadable look before glancing at the people who were anxiously waiting to escape to Ba Sing Se. You looked down uneasily, clenching your fists as you tried to ignore her words. 

You all approached the ticket lady, cowering slightly when she snapped at Aang and Sokka before Toph stepped forwards confidently. She placed something on the counter before glancing up. “My name is Toph Beifong and I’ll need five tickets.”

The lady’s eyes widened at the sight of the flying boar before glancing at all of you. “Ah, the golden seal of the flying boar! It is my pleasure to help anyone of the Beifong family.”

“It is your pleasure. As you can see, I am blind and these three imbeciles are my valets,” Toph stated plainly before turning to point to you. “And she is my most trusted companion.”

“But the animal-”

“That’s her seeing eye lemur,” you quickly interrupted, ignoring Aang’s snort. “She needs him with her at all times.”

Momo chittered quietly, nuzzling against Toph’s neck to add dramatic effect. 

“Well, normally it's only one ticket per passport, but this document is so official ... I guess it's worth five tickets,” the lady commented, stamping five tickets and handing them over. 

“Thank you very much,” you said, smiling softly as you gathered the tickets and guided Toph away. 

You all walked away, Sokka commenting on how cool it was that Toph was able to scam the lady. You were trying to tune out his words before silence ensued and you turned to see Sokka being held back by a guard. 

“Tickets and passports please.”

“Is there a problem?” you asked politely, catching Katara’s panicked gaze and giving her a simple nod. You stepped up next to Sokka, avoiding his surprised gaze. The girl looked at you briefly before turning back to Sokka. 

“Yeah! Is there a problem?” Sokka asked, repeating your words as he tried to stay calm. 

“Yeah, I got a problem with you! I've seen your type before. Probably sarcastic, think you're hilarious and let me guess, you're traveling with the Avatar,” the girl said. You exchanged a scared glance with Katara. 

“Do I know you?” Sokka asked, leaning in slightly to get a better look at the girl. 

“You mean you don’t remember? Maybe you’ll remember this!” the girl leaned in suddenly, placing a brief kiss on Sokka’s cheek. His eyes widened almost comically and he casted a panicked look at you, only to see you looking down as you turned and walked away. 

“Suki!” Sokka exclaimed, rushing forwards and gathering the Kyoshi Warrior up in his arms. 

“Sokka! It’s so good to see you,” Suki replied, hugging him back tightly. Greetings were exchanged as the Gaang reunited with their old friend, with the exception of Toph. Noticing the way you had abruptly left, she went after you, finding you seated alone as you stared off at the water. 

“What’s wrong, Princess?” Toph asked, coming to a stop next to you. “Are you really moping over him?”

You smiled softly at Toph’s words. “I don’t know, shortcake. I guess so.”

Toph sighed dramatically as she leaned against the railing, turning to face you. “If you really like him you can go talk to him. Or fight for him.”

Copying Toph’s actions, you turned around, your back now against the railing. Your gaze landed on the pretty girl standing in front of Sokka, watching her as she smiled widely. “She’s pretty.”

“And?” Toph replied, crossing her arms and huffing lightly. 

“I’m not going to fight for him,” you muttered. Toph opened her mouth to argue but you quietly shushed her. “They’re right, Toph. I’m Fire Nation and I can’t change that no matter how hard I try. I’m going to try and do my part to help Aang defeat the Fire Lord but when the war is over, I can’t simply go on and live my life. I’m either going to have to return to the capital and claim the throne or I’m going to be hunted down as a traitor to my nation. I can’t be focusing on my dumb feelings when there are bigger things at stake.”

Toph hummed lightly before she punched you in the arm. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard you say but whatever. C’mon let’s get going, Princess.”

You rubbed your arm before trailing after the small girl, noticing that the family that had arrived with you was frantically talking to Aang. The group moved over to the ticket lady and you could faintly hear Aang arguing with her before turning and walking back over to the family dejectedly.

~

Five minutes later, you all found yourselves walking back the way you had come from. Nervous glances were exchanged all around as Aang declared that he was going to lead you all through the Serpent’s Pass, and you found yourself lagging behind in order to make sure that no one was getting left behind. 

“Hi.”

You looked over to your left to see the girl from before: Suki. She had joined the group after changing into a green dress, makeup covering her face in a style reminiscent of Avatar Kyoshi’s. You nodded softly, acknowledging her presence as you came to a stop. 

“We haven’t met yet,” she continued, shooting you a wide grin as she stood next to you. “I’m Suki!”

“I’m (Y/N),” you introduced yourself before bowing deeply. “It is an honor to meet a Kyoshi Warrior.”

A blush spread across Suki’s cheeks, partially hidden by her white face paint.She smiled bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she started to walk slowly. “You’re too kind. Really, there’s nothing special about us.”

“I beg to differ,” you replied quietly, walking next to her. “Kyoshi was a powerful Avatar. Your group is equally as amazing.”

Suki opened her mouth to reply only to be cut off when the ground underneath Than, the man you were traveling with, gave away. Toph reacted instantly, bending a piece of the cliff out in order to catch the man. 

“I’m okay!”

“They’ve spotted us!” Sokka yelled, pointing to the Fire Nation ship that Suki had pointed out earlier. “Let’s go!”

Aang took off into the air on his glider, deflecting the fireball that was coming your way. It crashed into the cliff behind you, sending multiple large chunks of rock flying everywhere. You heard Suki yelp lightly and looked over to see multiple chunks of earth heading her way. Without thinking twice, you threw yourself at her, tackling her and sending the both of you out of harm’s way. You landed roughly, your body curling around Suki’s to protect her from any wayward debris before Toph came in to save the day. Suki was the first to sit up, throwing her arms around you as she muttered multiple ‘thank you’s’. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around her waist, helping her up before separating and brushing yourself off.

“It was nothing,” you replied quietly, shooting the girl a small smile. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Suki! Are you okay?” Sokka asked worriedly, rushing over and wrapping the girl up into a tight hug. “You have to be more careful! Come on!”

Suki gave you a warm smile as she was pulled away by Sokka, leaving you standing alone with Toph. The earth bender turned to you, opening her mouth to make a comment that you had no doubt would be sarcastic. You quickly spoke before she could. “Thanks for saving my life Toph.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear, Princess.”

~

The group had settled down for the night, exhausted after running from the Fire Nation. You were unrolling your sleeping bag, sighing softly as you searched for a decent spot to set up in. Your eyes drifted to Suki, who was placing her sleeping bag down a little aways from you before it was pulled away by Sokka. 

“Suki, you shouldn't sleep there. Who knows how stable this ledge is, it could give away at any moment!”

Suki looked at Sokka with concern, following him as he walked away from the ledge. “Sokka, I’m fine! Stop worrying! Besides, (Y/N) no doubt had a bigger scare today. Fuss over her instead.”

Sokka ignored her words and you looked down, setting your sleeping bag down close to where Suki was originally going to place hers. Ignoring everyone else, you slipped into it, curling into a small ball as you stared up at the moon. You felt all your worries subside as you fell into a deep sleep, a small smile spreading across your face as you mentally thanked Yue for being there for you. 

When you woke up, you felt well-rested and refreshed and ready to reach Ba Sing Se. Once again, you trailed behind everyone else, keeping an eye out for any Fire Nation ships that could be tracking you. You were so distracted that you didn’t notice everyone coming to a stop, causing you to bump into Sokka’s back before tumbling to the ground. You muttered out a soft sorry, picking yourself up when he ignored your words. 

“Everyone, single file!” Katara called out, her eyebrows furrowed as she noticed that the path in front of her was underwater. “Aang I need help!”

Katara proceeded to bend the water out of the way, clearing a path for your group as Aang conjured up a large air bubble to surround you. You chuckled softly when you noticed Momo’s curious gaze aimed at the water, a full blown laugh escaping you as he dived into the water to chase the fish. Your laughter died down when he leapt out of the water, clutching onto you as he curled himself around your neck. 

“What’s wrong, Momo?” you asked, softly scratching the back of his ears. He was trembling, chittering softly as he hid his face in your neck. You glanced at the walls of water surrounding you, flinching when you saw a large shadow pass you on your left. “G-Guys?”

“What is that thing?” Katara whispered, also noticing the large shadow. The thing in the water broke through the walls Katara had created, forcing Toph to bend the earth and send you all back up above the water level. 

“I think I just figured out why they call it the Serpent's Pass!” Sokka yelped, stumbling as the serpent sprung out of the water with a large screech. “Suki, you know about giant sea monsters, make it go away!”

“Just because I live near the unagi doesn’t mean I’m an expert,” the girl retorted, panic clear on her face.

Sokka walked over to you, taking Momo from around your neck and holding him up. “Oh great and powerful sea serpent, please accept this humble and tasty offering. Thank you.”

“Sokka!” you and Katara cried in unison, irritated expressions on both of your faces.

“I’ll distract it!” Aang yelled. “Katara, get everyone else across!”

Katara nodded, creating an ice trail for all of you. Everyone sprinted across, leaving only you and Toph standing on the chunk of earth she had sent up earlier. You took a deep breath and began to walk across, pausing when you realized Toph wasn’t following. 

“Toph!” Sokka yelled from the other side. “Come on, it’s just ice.”

“Actually, I'm going to stay on my little island, where I can see!” Toph replied. You turned back, noticing that the serpent was approaching. You quickly lunged for Toph, grabbing her hand and tugging her behind you just as the serpent hit the earth she was previously standing on.

“Sorry, shortcake,” you said quietly, gripping her hand tightly. “We need to get across. I won’t let you go.”

Toph nodded meekly, gripping onto you as you proceeded to move forwards. You were moving slowly but surely, trying to focus on not being taken by surprise by the serpent. 

“You’re doing great! Just follow that sound of my voice,” Sokka yelled, watching the two of you closely.

“Well it’s kind of hard to ignore!” Toph yelled back, causing you to let out a snort. 

“You’re almost there!”

Just as Sokka said those words, the serpent reappeared and crushed the ice trail. The impact separated you and Toph, sending the two of you flying in opposite directions. Toph fell into the water unceremoniously and you found yourself landing on the tough rocks that the rest of your group was standing on. You scrambled to your feet, ignoring everyone’s worried looks before frantically searching for Toph. You could see her bobbing up and down a bit away, struggling to stay afloat. 

“Help! Help! I can’t swim!” Toph yelled out, causing everyone to panic. You noticed Sokka taking off his shoes and Suki getting ready to jump but before they could, you launched yourself into the water, desperate to reach Toph in time. Everyone watched with bated breath as you reached the small girl, grabbing onto her and pulling her up so she could breathe. 

“I got you,” you whispered, already starting to head back to the group. Toph clung onto you, gasping for air.

“Thank you, (Y/N)” she whispered back, hugging you tightly. You smiled softly, glad that she was now safe. You reached the rocks quickly enough, being helped up by Suki. Aang and Katara quickly rejoined the group, having taken care of the serpent for the time being. With a small cheer, you all kept going, smiling widely when you saw the walls of Ba Sing Se. 

Of course, nothing ever goes according to plan and you soon found yourself sitting alone while Katara and Suki helped Ying give birth. Hope was born soon enough, all of you cooing over the newborn as Aang stepped away from the group. 

“I promise I’ll find Appa as fast as I can,” you heard Aang say as you approached him and Katara. “I just really need to do this.”

“See you in the big city,” Sokka whispered.

“Say hi to the big fuzzball for me,” Toph chirped.

“Stay safe. Please,” you said, stumbling back when Aang threw himself at you and hugged you tightly. 

“You’ll find him, Aang,” Katara said, smiling sadly. 

“I know. Thank you, Katara,” Aang said, letting you go. “You ready, Momo?”

With a chirp from Momo, the two of them took off. It was silent after their departure and you suddenly felt more awkward than you had in a long time. Without Aang, you were left with Toph and two people who you were sure hated you. Sokka stood off to the side, talking quietly with Suki. You couldn’t help but watch them, not noticing Katara sidle up to you. Your heart fully broke when Sokka lurched forwards, connecting his lips with Suki’s as the girl wrapped her arms around him. 

“They’re cute together, aren’t they?” Katara asked quietly, turning to face you with an unreadable look. “She’s good for him. Don’t ruin it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you breathed, trying to ignore the tears that wanted to well up in your eyes. “You have nothing to worry about, Katara, I know I don’t deserve someone like him.”

Katara’s expression softened as you walked away, gathering up your stuff before you continued to walk along the path. You had barely gotten more than a few steps away before you were stopped by a hand on your wrist. You turned slowly to face Suki, a determined look on her face. You looked at her curiously, tilting your head to the side as you waited for her to speak.

“Come with me,” she breathed, taking you by surprise.

“W-What?”

“Come with me,” she repeated more confidently. “The Kyoshi Warriors could always use someone like you. You’re strong and care about others. Join me.”

You paused for a few seconds, looking around at your companions (who were pretending to mind their own business) before facing her once more. Toph was the only one who would miss you and you knew that the Water Tribe siblings wanted you gone. Aang would find you eventually; they would tell him you had joined Suki. You nodded once, causing Suki to smile excitedly and pull you away. You dug your heels into the ground, stopping her before you could get any further.

“Suki. Before I go with you, you need to know-”

“That you’re the Fire Nation crown princess?” Suki interrupted. You looked up at her, bewildered. “I’ve seen the family portraits, silly. I know you’re the princess but I don’t care. You saved my life and you saved Toph and you’ve been helping Aang out for a while. I don’t care about your family. You’re a good person and I want you to join the Kyoshi Warriors.”

Overwhelmed by her words, you hugged her tightly. You nodded once again, tears dripping down your face as you laughed lightly. 

“Okay. I’ll join the Kyoshi warriors.”

~

taglist!

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[rosesnink]

The Cursed Heiress, Chapter Thirteen: In the Name of Love

Author’s Notes: 

I’d like to dedicate this chapter to my friend @missameliep​ for not only encouraging me but also helping me improve as a storyteller and person and I’m so thankful for your friendship. I hope you like it, dearest! 

English is not my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes 

This series contains certain mature themes, so it has a +15. Read under your own advise. 

If you happened to stumble on this chapter or want to know more about Joanna’s joruney, here’s the masterlist! And if you want to read more of my work, here’s the general masterlist! 

Summary: Joanna’s father is dead, and on the day of his funeral, many things will start to change, for war is coming. 

Characters: Joanna Mills (OC) Dominique Foredale, Briar Daly, Ernest Sinclaire, Annabelle Parsons, Prince Hamid, Luke Harper, Theresa Sutton, Bartholomew Chambers, Duke Richards, Elias Bernhill (OC) 

Rating: PG-13 

Warnings: Minor character death, language 

Word Count: 19.2k 

Reading Time: 45-50 minutes 

What is grief, if not love persevering?

The night the earl had died, Joanna fell asleep of exhaustion of the events—the battle she had, the duke, Mr. Sinclaire’s story, the Coventus, her father and now… all she wanted was peace. But she wasn’t granted that.

During the night, she had three nightmares: one, where she was stabbed in the chest by Thomas and he succeeded and took over the world and destroyed everything and everyone. Other one, where she joined his ranks and ruled over the world, enslaving humankind, including the ones she grew fonder of. And the third one, where her power killed her and she died on Mr. Sinclaire’s arms, the others crying and the world did not notice.

She woke up, gasping for air. All three possible endings terrified her and she went to drink some water when she touched the mirror and she dropped heavily on her knees: a war, a gruesome one. Tired soldiers. Heavy armament. Hunger. Cold. Deadly boredom. Then, someone powerful signing a treaty, looking defeated and ashamed. Then, he and his family leaving the city. A flag being burned down—she could barely see it. A new one rising: red, with a half-moon and a star. Then she saw herself, crying in a graveyard. “I’m sorry, my sun, I could not stop it from falling. Your empire and legacy is no more,”

She had just seen a glimpse of the fall of an empire. Which one? She did not know. But after these dreams and premonitions, she dared not to sleep.

Joanna hadn’t slept or eaten at all that past week. All she did was cry, throw knives –sometimes doing rather noticeable holes on the wall—and lay on the bed, motionless, paler than usual and cry until noon. She could not bear it. Nor accept it. She just got her father, after so many years, and now… he was just gone. Just like that. And not even the Goddesses gave her the chance to know the man who gave her life and loved her unconditionally. She sobbed once more, so sore and light that if she fainted, she’d just go along with it.

Briar had been stubborn about keeping her alive, despite her pleas to let her rot and die, which ended with her yelling at her to get her arse up and start living again. But that was the last thing she ever wanted to do. She’d live for the rest of her life without her father and her mother doing Gods-know-what while she needed her the most. They haven’t had the ‘How the hell are you alive?’ talk, but they would.

Briar came again with soup and a glass of water with generous amounts in each of the recipients. Joanna groaned weakly and dropped her entire body into the mattress again.

“Enough moping, Joanna! Edgewater needs you for your father’s reception today!”

“What part of let me fucking die don’t you understand? My stepbrother may as well keep Edgewater and the throne of England for all I care,” she grunted, her voice barely audible.

Briar sighed as she sat before her, “Look, Joanna, I cannot phantom what you’re going through, but you must accept that—.”

“Leave me alone!” She roared, her eyes glassy and bright topaz. Briar gasped before nodding, too hurt by her words to even notice what was behind her tears.

She slumped on her mattress again, now crying again, fisting her pillow as she screamed on it, the pillow so cold her whole body shivered. She noticed a familiar, warm hand on her back, and was about to recoil when she saw her Aunt Nya’s face, now sad and dressed in mourning “Fey, my darling…” she embraced her tightly. She did not move, but neither expressed any wish to unhand her. She just cried silently, barely feeling anything at all, “How do you feel?”

“That’s the thing, Aunt Nya! I don’t feel sadness, or anger, or anything, it’s like I’m empty inside and I’m not able to feel anything anymore! How can people live when such a remarkable man that had made such an impact is dead?! I don’t understand!” She sobbed again loudly, not caring if the soulless Countess heard her. She never cared for that woman’s feelings towards her and wouldn’t start now.

“The death of a parent is always one of the most painful things. Though a soulmate’s death or a child’s death is much more devastating, your pain is just as valid, but you mustn’t let rage take all over you. Let it through, but never take over, alright?”

She nodded before she sighing “I guess I cannot mop forever. The world’s fate is at stake, I cannot let my foes win. I’m tired, but I must keep going. Afterall, I have a lifetime to have a little peace. I shall make it through today… for him. For Father. And if I must pretend that I’m holding it together, even if it’s for a few hours… I will. But only because he would’ve done the same for me. That doesn’t mean that as soon as the guests are gone I will be the same. I’m damn entitled to mourn in my own way, whether these hyenas see it proper or not. In the end, this is what the London society is about, isn’t it? Appearances, pretty and demure smiles and white lies everyone wishes to believe. And if I must play their game in order to honour my father’s name, I will. That doesn’t mean that I won’t weep and have my moment with my father. Bastard or not, I am family, damn them and their idiot breeding rules.”

“May his soul rest among angels, and I’m certain he’ll teach them a thing or two.”

“Oh, Joanna, you are so much like him… and Nya… thank you. For being here today for us,”

“I came here representing my family and… well, my brother Fabian asked me that if should the earl pass away and he were already gone, I’d go on his behalf. They were good friends,”

“The young Mr. Crochane was a breath of fresh air. May he rest in peace, too,”

“Thank you, Dominique. I shall leave you two to talk,”

She squeezed Joanna’s hand tightly before leaving. Dominique turned to her granddaughter “Your perseverance is just like his, my dear…” The woman strid into her room, wearing with an admirable poise her mourning gear.

“Lady Grandmother,” She curtsies to her and offers her a sad smile, a smile that falls quickly “I cannot imagine what is like to bury your son… I’m so sorry for your loss,”.

“As am I for yours,”

“I’m… not sure what to do. I’ve never mourned a familiar before.”

“You mourned Mr. Coleman’s death,” She observed.

“A lover is not the same as your kin, Lady Grandmother,” she said, her eyes now filled with tears.

“It is indeed the greatest pain I’ve ever felt, but even if I don’t feel like it, I must honour him by being resilient and perseverant, like he was in life,”

“Indeed,” She sighed “What will I do now?”

Dominique placed a hand on her granddaughter and made her look at her, “You will survive and make it through the day, as you’ve always done. After all, you come from a long-lasting line of strong women,”

Joanna chuckled bitterly “Funnily enough, I do not feel strong enough to even talk to people I like,”

Dominique placed a hand on her granddaughter’s shoulder and told her “I can only imagine how you must feel, but you must be strong. Edgewater needs you, to show how a dignified heiress you—,”.

“I don’t want Edgewater anymore. No estate is worth so much tears and suffering and struggles.”

“You’d really let it fall to the Marlcasters?” Dominique asked, horrified.

“Don’t know, don’t care.”

“Joanna!” Dominique looked at her concerned, “I will pretend that I did not hear—,”

“That’s the thing, Lady Grandmother! You never listen to what I have to say, nor what I feel! It’s all about you and your stupid ambitions that only benefits you! And I’m not some doll and Edgewater is not your dollhouse! We’re all human beings, with hearts, thoughts, ambitions of our own, dreams. And I’m tired of pretending that I’m fine with this grotesque season where I am put a price due to my breeding and status, where what I think or want for myself doesn’t matter. Where wits and goals are dismissed by money and status. Ever asked how am I doing genuinely? If I really wish to marry? If there’s someone waiting for me back home, the real home? If I’m in the mood to throw money away buying a dress I will use just once? No, right? Well, Lady Grandmother, no. I do not want to inherit this. I’m not fine, I’m far from fine. I don’t want to marry that pathetic boor of Duke Richards or anyone from the court. Yes, there’s an entire family of mine waiting for me back at home. NO, I DO NOT LIKE THAT FUCKING DRESS AND I DO NOT WANT TO GO TO A PLACE WHERE NO ONE WANTS ME THERE,” She inhaled, trembling of anger, “You’re asking me too much. To give up who I am, to be exact. To deny my own true nature, to be alright with being seen like some men-pleaser and baby maker. To put up with bigotry and unfair bullying. To give up my beliefs. To be alright with people walking all over me. To endure literal predators hovering at me because they’re richer than you. Well, I’m not that woman. I cannot be that woman, nor I will be.” She pointed at herself violently, “and trying to please you and have your approval is killing me inside. Every time I do that, I feel so much self-hate that I wish to blow my fucking brains off!! So, for once, I beg you, let me be me. I don’t want to accept dishonest condolences from the people who wish me rotting on the streets or wish me ill, or to be observed like some decoration or pretending I don’t have a soul or personality that is made for court life only. I’m not demure, obedient, silent and unbothered. I am not meek and stupid and air headed. I’m not a doll waiting to have an owner. My life is not to be defined by my husband’s wealth and breeding and the number of children that I will bear. Which I do want to, but not like this. I refuse to pay that price. I refuse to reduce my existence to a man’s need of an heir and someone to be their fucking mother.”

“Joanna, I did not realise—,”

“If I asked you to describe me, you’d get it all wrong! I’m not demure, or penitent, or ladylike, or obedient, or accepting and forgiving. I am opinionated, I get mad, I know things that a debutante shouldn’t know, I’m untamed and true to myself and my beliefs. I don’t forgive easily. I live my womanhood however I feel like. I like reading forbidden things, and I love being free. And if inheriting Edgewater means to cut off my wings to replace them with chains, then I don’t want it. I won’t have it, not with that price.”

“But, the law—,”

“FUCK THE LAW AND THE MORON WHO MADE IT,” She snapped. She took another breath and squared her shoulders, “I will continue this charade, but once the season is over, I will renounce my claim and pursue what I really want: live and enjoy my life on my own terms and laws, with the people I love and unapologetically. I will do what you haven’t done before: I will be free. You either support me genuinely or stand out of my way, because you won’t hold me back this time. Not anymore.”

“Joanna, I—,”

“Get out, Lady Grandmother.” She whispered, tears filling her eyes.

“…Very well.”

As she got out, the figure on the window sat on Joanna’s bed. She looked at her and asked “What do we know about him?”

“He’s indeed alive and in France, currently doing some espionage. He knows about you, but he doesn’t know about the earl’s… passing.”

She looked at her and said “Gods, Mama, say that he’s dead,”

Odessa sighed, now looking hurt, “I just can’t believe it just yet. It all happened so quickly…”

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose the love of your life and father of your child.”

She winced before asking “What do we know about the girl? Is she really the chosen heiress?”

“She is. I felt connected to her. And I know who’s the biological father.”

“Who?”

“Ernest Sinclaire of Ledford Park.”

“I sense that there’s something between you two,”

Joanna sighed “It’s not that simple,”

“Why? You like him, he obviously likes you. What’s holding you back?”

Joanna slumped on her bed, “Where do I even begin?”

At the church, Joanna walked to the family seats, looking the perfect portrait of a mourning lady. Her mother was also there, at the back, dressed as a servant. She seemed to cry very silently, so silently that none of the staff even noticed. She had a veil that covered her face and her gloves back on her hands. Her red hair was perfectly coiffed and even prepared a speech.

“Hello you too, Countess Henrietta. Mr. Marlcaster,”

“You’re in our seats,”

“Suck it up, Bitterta, I’m family. Blood relative, in case you’ve forgotten. Firstborn daughter. The heir of the house.” She tried to speak, but she lifted her hand, “You may sit away from me if you please, but I. Am. Not. Moving. The only way is grabbing me by the hair and making me. So choose. A spectacle, or get through this amicably.”

The countess scoffed, and put on the hurt lamb face. But her mother was faster than the countess, “You stupid little girl! Who do you think you are? You should know your place and go back to your whoring at your pig farm while you can! Edgewater will be mine, to hell what the earl wanted!” She gasped when she realised what she had said aloud and Joanna took her opportunity. She pretended to be hurt and gasped.

“You… don’t care about my father? I—I… I just wanted us to be a family. I even considered you a mother,” she heard a snort. Probably her mother, “and had grown fond of you.” She sniffled, “I get it. Mourn, if you will, and I will leave your space… Mama.”

She held back her smirk and looked for familiar figures. The four of them were there. She decided to follow her heart and reached for Mr. Harper. He quickly took her hand and without saying a word, they went to their seats. He sat with the servants, near her mother.

“Your Highness, I cannot imagine what you’re going through right now… losing so many people in less than a year…”

Joanna sniffled, “I wouldn’t wish it on anybody. Not even Duke Richards.”

“Shouldn’t you be with your family?”

Joanna’s face hardened “Those who I consider family are all dead now.”

Luke looked at Joanna. She placed her hand on his and held it tightly. As Bishop Monroe gave his speech about Joanna, she remembered the many times she was mocked because there wasn’t a man to take care of her. The many times she could hear her mother cry, holding a stack of letters. The many times she thought that loving her was a death sentence. When she first met him. Their picnics at the lake. Their commentary of Latin and philosophy. Their laughs. His questions about her mother’s adventures. Showing him funny spells. Their silent reading sessions. When she said goodbye to him.

When he died before her eyes…

Her heart accelerated. A knot formed itself on her ribcage and gasped for air. She stopped hearing the bishop’s voice. She stopped feeling Luke’s hand. She felt hot.

“I… c-can’t…” She got up abruptly and ran away from the crowd, gasping for air, before she fell on her knees. She tried to get some air, but she couldn’t. She felt like she was dying. She felt five presences behind her, but she could not think about that now. Her breath was short and ragged, trembling violently.

“I don’t—I don’t want to die,” She cried out.

She felt something was off, and she closed her eyes. She felt a violent tremble all over her body, and finally gave up to the darkness.

“I think she’s coming back to her senses now…”

“…So many emotions bottled up…”

“…heard the quake of the ground, Mr. Marlcaster?”

“…something’s off with her,”

She woke up in a sofa, a room away from the crowd. She looked around and saw Aunt Nene there, looking like she did an extenuating work waking her up, “What happened?”

“You had a panic attack. You fainted, and before that, a bit of your power busted out of you and made the floor tremble. Your friends were worried,”

“They were?”

“Yes. May I call them in?”

“…Leave that to me, Aunt Nene.”

Later that night, Joanna and the Dowager Countess stood on the staircase, watching swaths of gentry folk enter the parlour. The dowager stiffened, a small, concerning look on her face. Joanna sighed “Worry not, Lady Grandmother. All that I wanted to say to you has been said. And I’m in no mood to argue again.”

She nodded stiffly, “Do you feel better, dear?”

“Yes, just a bit tired, I guess, but nothing that a glass of scotch shan’t fix.”

“If you say so… I must rest now. I can’t take any more well-meaning condolences…”

“Sleep tight, lady Grandmother.” Though the tension was high and Joanna felt like walking on eggs—not to mention she was sure her grandmother hated her—they both seemed to agree to leave the conversation for later. And they’d have a lot to talk about.

She curtsied to her before making her way to the parlour, but before she has the chance to enter, she hears someone whispering her name. She whips her head to find Mr. Harper, and she smiles at him for a brief moment “I’m glad I caught you… The countess would have my head if I came inside,”

“You people should start to stop being scared. She’s all bark.”

“Easier said than done. But what I wanted to say is… should you need me… you can find me by the stables.”

“It’s your safe haven. If I didn’t find you there, I’d worry,” then, she fumed “you ought to be mourning him, not be forced outside like some stranger! My father would’ve wanted you there.”

He gave her a small smile before clearing his throat, “Aye, but in this case, I’m grateful. In a way, tending to the horses helps me grieve.”

“Like a coping mechanism.”

He arched a confused eyebrow and Joanna shrugged, “Psychology slang. What I mean, is that it’s your way to go through the tunnel of grief and find the acceptance of the loss of someone who you held in high regard.”

“That’s an interesting way of seeing grief,” he commented.

“It’s the way, you people just haven’t given it a name just yet.”

The silence nearly killed her before he spoke up again, “I have a song I wish to share with you. Come find me later if you wish… we can escape for a while and we can remember your father together.”

“I will spare it a thought,” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek for a brief moment before leaving to the parlour. She could swear she felt him smile.

She scanned the room, looking for familiar faces when Mr. Chambers approached her. She gave him a weak smile, “Lady Joanna, may God rest your father’s soul and bless yours.”

“Mr. Chambers, you’re a sweet fallen angel, as usual. I am grateful for your friendship and kind words.”

He smiled gingerly “You flatter me unjustly. You look a proper lady tonight. Your father is smiling upon you, I’m sure.”

“I do what I can to honour his memory and legacy.” She gave him a saddened smile “He would’ve been glad for your presence tonight.”

His face fell “The earl was one of the first people who helped me navigate this society… I’m forever indebted to him.”

“I haven’t realised that the two of you were close. The loss of a mentor is always awful.”

“Not as much as a father’s loss.”

She looked around before whispering in low voice “May I ask some… delicate matter?”

He nodded before turning his head on her “What is it, Lady Joanna?”

“Is it true? That you’re familiar with Marianna Howard and her daughter?”

He gasped surprised “How do you know about them?”

“I know it all, Mr. Chambers. Even the girl’s father,”

He looked flushed, sparing a small stare to Mr. Sinclaire, “He doesn’t know yet. Miss Howard begged me to give him an audience in private, the three of them.”

“And she shall have it. It is their destiny to find one another. He must know… but not now. Not yet. He isn’t ready for her yet, but he will be ready.”

He was about to ask something “I… will leave you to your guests now.”

She didn’t even bother. She didn’t want to push her luck just yet. She looked around the parlour, where she spotted Mr. Sinclaire and Prince Hamid sharing stories, about her father, she was sure. She too spotted Miss Parsons, frowning at Miss Sutton and Miss Bowman, and Mr. Marlcaster brooding by himself.

She decided to join the men, who were deep in an anecdote “Do you remember the look on the Duke Northumberland’s face?” Prince Hamid asked.

“He couldn’t have picked his jaw up with both hands even if he wanted to,” Mr. Sinclaire finished.

“Well, that sounds like quite the scandal, go on.”

“We are reminiscing the time your father fell asleep in Parliament,”

Joanna snorted silently, incredulous “He what again? My responsible and dutiful Father, falling asleep in Parliament?”

“We were both stunned when it happened…”

I can imagine…

“He must have been dreaming of the proceedings…” Continued Mr. Sinclaire, “When his name was called, he sat bolt upright and gave the proper speech without any faults.”

Joanna bit her cheek, but in the end, she couldn’t help it. She let out a fit of laughter, her hand on her mouth to muffle the sound, doubling in laughter at the image. When she caught the sight of the men, she flushed and cleared her throat, looking away, but the men did not see scandalized by it.

“It is refreshing to see you laugh at such a dark time, my lady. You’ve made me forget for a moment about my pain,” Commented Mr. Sinclaire.

Hamid looked pleased and amused “I’m pleased that our small tale could make you laugh in such a hazardous time. It is always a delight to see you laugh,”.

Joanna smiled for a brief moment, it seemed like a shadow. She looked up to them and nodded them thank you.

“Your father was a most honourable man,” Said Mr. Sinclaire, his face now saddened. Joanna had remembered how much he had lost as a boy. She wished she could squeeze his hand.

“Even in his blunders.” Hamid commented, gaining a guffaw from Joanna.

“I’m relieved that he shall remain alive on our memories.”

“For years to come.”

“I’d venture centuries.”

A group of noblewomen passed by her. They looked at her from head to toe before moving on. Joanna scoffed, clearly annoyed “Have they no shame or respect whatsoever? Oh, wait! Every titled noble is just like that.”

“It cannot be easy for you to have so many eyes on you when your heart’s heavy.” Hamid sighed.

“If you need to get away, I can take you to Ledford Park. It’s much more… inviting than a room full of gentry.” Mr. Sinclaire offered.

“The stars provide me great solace. If you would like to go stargazing with me, I will be here waiting.”

Joanna gave them a ghostly smile “I shall spare a thought to your requests.”

They nodded their heads to her and she kept doing her rounds around the parlour. She walked over the trio of women.

“She looks a proper lady today…” Miss Bowman mused.

And you have that ugly dress still on.

“I would hope so. It’s the earl’s funeral, after all…”

Coming from you, that’s rich.

“Miss Bowman, Miss Sutton, I cannot believe the two of you.” Miss Parsons snapped, an icy glare on them. Joanna looked at her with a surprised but pleased look.

“Do you really have to gossip about my appearance at my father’s funeral? Don’t you two have something better to talk about…or do?” Joanna said, now glaring at them two.

“Oh, Lady Joanna…” Miss Sutton threw her arms around her and she allowed it, patting amicably her back, “I’m so, so sorry, you must be so sad.” So many so’s. Her grip became even tighter.

“I am. Thank you for your compassion and kindness, Miss Sutton.”

She patted her back a few more times before she released her “Would hearing the latest news about Miss Holloway’s sister cheer you up?”

“I won’t let you turn this day into a gossiping event, it’s shameful.” Miss Parsons spitted. Miss Bowman and Miss Sutton were stunned into silence by Miss Parsons’s sudden snap. Her face fell “I can’t stand to be part of this chatter and eyeing each other. Escape with me later if you wish… I’d love to show you my favourite Edgewater room. It always lifts my spirits.”

How long has it been ever since they had a nice moment together? This could be a great opportunity to show her more of her powers and put her in contact with her kind… and biological father.

“That sounds lovely. I shall consider your proposal.”

She squeezed Miss Parsons’s hand before leaving the group.

She saw Mr. Marlcaster by himself, with a glass of scotch, staring at the window “Mr. Marlcaster... I’d ask you how you feel, but since it’s a stupid question, I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. I don’t know how this must be for you… after your biological father’s death…”

He looked up to her “You… remembered.”

“You know, I do pay attention when you speak.”

He swirled his glass, accidentally spilling. She gave him a handkerchief and helped him. He nodded her thank you, “He was the only father I ever knew…”

“I know the feeling very well.”

“I’ve lost two fathers…”

She placed her hand on his elbow and gave it a squeeze “I truly am sorry. I cannot begin to fathom what it must feel like.”

“I…Thank you, my lady. It’s really kind of you.”

She sighed before confessing “Just because I’m always collected and seem in control does not mean I am not capable of empathy or to have feelings or thoughts. I am a human being, just like you, with the same beating heart and soul. You, me and everybody. Some of us are just better at hiding the feeling of wanting to scream and send everything to hell and curl yourself in bed, not facing the world for a long time.”

He swallowed “I… did not know we had so much in common…”

“I’m not that bad, sir, when you get to know me. Some people say I can be quite nice to be with, just like you. Everybody is a handful in their own way, and that’s fine. We’re not perfect.”

“Perhaps… you’re not so bad.”

She chuckled “Likewise.”

He stared to the ground “I’m sorry… for your loss too.”

“Thank you, brother.”

She studied him carefully before giving him a small hug. At first, he resisted, but then, he gave in and joined her embrace, “Should you need someone to smash things or just talk or be with you… you know where to find me.”

He nodded and finished his scotch “I’ll try my best for you as well… but first, I need more scotch.”

He staggered off to refill his glass. She turned around to watch the room and saw some people clutching their hearts. She looked around to chat with other group when she heard some people whispering her name. Not standing it anymore, she went out to breathe some air.

“I can’t stay another moment with those hyenas…”

She thought again of the all tempting offers of the four people she needed to see. Ernest’s tour to Ledford Park… stargazing with Hamid… Luke’s song… and Annabelle’s favourite room in Edgewater…

“I must get away for a while… and have a sincere talk…”

She decided to go to Mr. Sinclaire first. She saw him standing with Miss Sutton, his lips pursed in a thin line, enduring her ceaseless chatter. His eyes softened at the sight of hers.

“Can you believe the countess did not shed a tear during the service? I know she’s a bit… intense. That just seems unheard of from a widow.”

“I, um…” He tried to say.

“Maybe she has already shed all the tears she could muster… If my Mr. Marlcaster were to die… Oh, I can’t even bear the thought!”

“Miss Sutton, my dear, while Mr. Sinclaire is clearly entertained by your interesting conversation, I’m afraid I must nick him from you. There is some matter of vital importance I must speak with him right away.” She gave her the most convincing ‘I’m serious’ look.

“Yes, I’ve been waiting… a few hours to talk about that matter. You must excuse us, Miss Sutton.”

She seemed to take the hint and nodded “Of course, excuse me…”

He let out a slow sigh of relief as Miss Sutton scurried to the next conversation at sight.

“I appreciate the rescue, Lady Joanna.”

“Funny, I thought that the rescuer of the night could be you… I’d love that Ledford Park tour if you’re up to it.”

“Certainly.”

He escorted her out of the manor and into the crispy night. After a short walk, her eyes went up the big, imposing manor… she chuckled, impressed. It was a tall and large manor, made of white marble stone and with an impressive architecture.

“The famous Ledford Park… it’s one of the most impressive manors I’ve ever beheld.”

“Thank you, my lady, though I have very little credit for its architecture. It was built during the Renaissance by its founder.”

She squeezed his arm, “It turned out beautifully.”

He smiled at her and led her through the gardens, its flowers welcoming her presence. He cleared his throat “I’m still getting used to… well, your hidden world.”

“It can be a lot, yes.” She stopped on her tracks and sighed “Though I did say the truth back there… there is something I must talk to you about. It concerns who you are… and your destiny.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, now looking at her attentively.

“Back when you summoned the sword… it’s just the tip of the iceberg of what you can do. You’re descended from a powerful bloodline of Nighthunters, bound to protect mortals from the evil monsters that lurk in the shadows. It’s similar to magic, but with certain works… it takes years to learn all the tricks.”

“You mean… I can do magic?”

“In a way, yes.” She nodded at his sword “The sword is blessed with elven magic. Only a firstborn Sinclaire may have it, for the firstborn has the needed power to wield it. You, for that matter, are the new wielder of the sword, as your father was once, long ago, and as it shall be with your firstborn.”

He chuckled bitterly “I do not have a firstborn of my own.”

She took a few steps behind and threw him a ball of ice. He gasped and put both hands in front of him, shielding him from the impact! A blue shield appeared from him and melted the ice. He gasped, staring at his hands.

“To harness the power inside us, we must have control over our emotions and instincts first. Your instinct of survival saved you from me freezing you to death. Just as your primal emotion of punching someone can be lethal if not well dealt with. That’s the secret of controlling magic. Emotions. Motives. Instinct. Intentions. Those four are the keys to true power. A man who can control oneself is a powerful man.”

“It’s all it takes?”

“And practise.” She snapped her fingers and a small ball of light appeared on her hand. “You must visualize what you want to show or do. Focus on it. Ask your inner self to summon it.”

He closed his eyes and snapped his fingers. And again. And again. A small butterfly came out of his fingers and he chuckled “It’s incredible. Am I really able to do that?”

“Yes. Try something else. You can get a memory from me.”

He closed his eyes and placed his hand on her cheek. Her mind wandered back to the carriage, the puffy scenery, their bodies together, nearly pressed against one another, her pupils blown wide and her heavy breathing. The image of her under him. Her warmth. But this time, he did not pull back, but against him, gaining a gasp from her, almost feeling her bust against his chest. His lips almost touched hers when he took off the hand.

“Hm. Could’ve sworn you enjoyed that new version.”

“I… did not meant disrespect to you, my lady.”

She placed her finger on his lips “You cannot disrespect me if that’s what I want too.” She saw how he lost his breath for a moment, blushing furiously.

He cleared his throat “About your closed-in feeling… I had a similar sentiment when my father died. The quiet anguish of having all eyes trained on you is an intensely personal time.”

“Those bunch of egocentric hyenas whispering about you even in your darkest time is mostly rude. It is frowned upon not to talk about the deceased during a funeral. Many are kicked out in The Circle for disrespecting the mourning moment to a grieving kin or close acquaintance. Poor Nya would be beyond scandalized if someone talks about something that isn’t the deceased or to express condolences.”

“How does one grieve in your city?”

“It’s an emotional and personal process. There’s a private mass where the family says goodbye, no matter if you’re a bastard or a new-born. It’s rude to deny a member of the family their rightful place there and it is encouraged to leave the bad blood for the day. We bury our dead sooner. You have a whole night to prepare the body and then we get it to the Holy Chapel where the family mourns and says its goodbyes and things left unsaid for four hours before the public mass. Until dawn, the chapel is open and then we bury it. In my family’s case we have a special pantheon for our members and bury them there. We leave a token or a letter and we burn it there, for it represents that you’re sending it to your loved one. Then we host a dinner with people who were close to the deceased, they stay over and, in the morning, we have some drinks in the gardens and everyone expresses their condolences with either a story or something that reminds us of them and build an aisle. My deceased uncles, Fabian and Niklaus have their own at my house’s garden with their best portraits. Each member of the family has a portrait. I shall have mine when it’s time. Every October we gather to honour our dead and fallen ones. It’s quite a lovely ceremony.”

“That’s a beautiful way to mourn someone, and with far more respect to the family.” He said frankly.

“What was your father like to you?”

“My father was an upstanding and honourable man. He treated the responsibility of upholding the family name with grave importance. Most importantly, he taught me that it isn’t a man’s name what makes him great, but his character.”  

“He sounds like a wise man one would like to have around.”

“In a word, yes.” He smiled.

They walked in a wistful silence around the gardens when Joanna cleared her throat.

“There is something else you must know… about your future and destiny.” She took a deep breath “Nya may have mentioned you, but there is a girl that will soon come to your life. She will be all alone and… you’re all she has. She has an important role in both our lives.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just…” She cleared her throat and looked around the gardens “Did your grandmother design the gardens here as she did with Edgewater?”

Ernest noticed her wish to change the subject and he obliged. He’d have that conversation with her later “The way I’ve heard it, she buried the roots of every plant with her own bare hands.” He said proudly.

“She had a way with nature. I love this view.”

As they moved further into the gardens, they found themselves a gurgling fountain. Mr. Sinclaire quirked a smile “I was… a rather sullen child—,”

“You’re a rather sullen adult, but continue.”

“Yes, yes. When I got into a mood, my mother would bring me into this fountain and make a wish. She said that it was easy to sulk when you couldn’t put a name to your gloom, but once you spoke your wish, you had a goal to guide you forward. Now, it’s difficult to me to be anything but hopeful in this place.” He beamed.

“Wise counsel indeed. We should give it a go!” She suggested. Mr. Sinclaire produced two coins from his coat pocket and gave one to her “Will you indulge me a demonstration?” He turned to the fountain and momentarily ruminated over the coin, which he held poised between thumb and forefinger “Allow me to guess, you’ll wish for me to stop being so secretive about everything.”

“Not exactly, but you’re close.”

He turned back to the fountain and raised the coin to his lips. He kissed it, and tossed it into the burbling water. She chuckled.

“Are you prepared, or do you need an additional demonstration?”

“Will you let me do the wish or you aren’t done being a smartass?” She chided back.

Joanna repeated his actions and decided to tease him “I wish to be kissed by the beau beside me.” She kissed the coin and tossed it over the water. She glanced at Mr. Sinclaire, whose gaze had turned into a longing one. He took her hand and slowly raised it to his lips, then pressed a gentle kiss on the back of it. She grabbed gently his cheek and begged him close “I’m not a clueless virgin. You won’t scandalize me or disappoint me if you wish to kiss me there. You have my full consent.” She drew with her thumb his lips, then kissed his cheek sensually, then placed her hands over his chest. He swallowed hard, his eyes darkening before clearing his throat.

“It is not that I don’t wish this, it’s just… I am aware of your experience, but my respect for you is too big to disrespect your persona that way. I would ruin you. I—,”

“I don’t care about what those bunch of vipers have to say. I know well what I want and I normally get it. Or you don’t wish to have me?”

He drew a breath “More than anything in the world. That’s why I must do right by you.” He said it without thinking.

She whispered to his ear “It’s my life. My body. My bed where you’ll come. I get to decide whom I bring to my bed, not them. And I know that you want it too.”

She could feel how he lost his breath “Not yet, my sweet. Not yet.”

Her face turned to his, now as close as they were in the bridge “Very well. Now escort me home before I regret it and transport you somewhere private where no one shall disturb us until I’m done with you.”

He nodded, swallowing hard before walking home, at a respectful distance. He seems to mull over something before calling her name “Lady Joana… that is, Ledford Park is at your disposal, should you need comfort again.”

“I’m counting on it.”

He began to lead her back to Edgewater. Back in the foyer, he kissed her hand and slipped away to retire to Ledford Park for the night.

She took a deep breath and weaved back to the parlour and walked up to Miss Parsons and Mr. Chambers, who were in the middle of a rather awkward conversation.

“It’s been, uh, quite a warm April, hasn’t it?”

“Mr. Chambers, my dear friend, while Miss Parsons is clearly enjoying the conversation, there’s a girl emergency that requires Miss Parsons’s assistance right away. You understand, don’t you?”

“But we were having the most riveting conversation.” Miss Parsons teased.

“I quite understand, my lady. I have, uh, pressing matters to address with Mr. Konevi.”

Joanna smiled charmingly “Of course. Tell him that I said hi!”

He politely bowed his head to both women and walked over gingerly to Mr. Konevi. She smiled at them and grabbed Miss Parsons’s arm, “Let’s get out of here before these hyenas notice that we’re away.”

“Let’s away, yes!” Miss Parsons beamed.

Miss Parsons playfully took her hand and ran towards the stairs, into her father’s study. Joanna chuckled bitterly, remembering their times there before all of this entire mess in general. The familiar scent of tea, old wood and leather chairs swirled right into her nostrils and a tear escaped her eye.

“Ahh, this room feels like home. I’ve been meaning to show it to you for ages!” Miss Parsons said, giddy.

“No need for that. Here’s where I met my father for the first time…”

“Joanna! To think that you’ve been keeping it from me all this time… Isn’t it a wonderful place?”

She nodded to herself “It really is.”

Both women laughed and nodded to themselves. Joanna traced with her fingers the spines of the books, stacked tightly on the bookshelves.

“I can’t imagine not meeting my father until I was grown… What was that like?” Miss Parsons asked.

Joanna sighed, “It was… bittersweet. All the journey, I asked myself why didn’t he come looking for me before. Was I not enough to him? Did he consider me a mistake? Would he laugh at me and use me as a charity for the estate reputation’s sake? Would he kick me out once he got to know me? Would he lock me up? But then, I came into this room… and the fear washed itself away. How gentle, how kind, how nurturing and loving he was… the way we had so much in common and the million topics we talked and the plans made for when the season was over and we had the rest of the year ahead of us… tea in here while discussing who was a better poet or our favourite Tudor consort and why, my mother’s shenanigans… it was all magical. And to be deprived of that so suddenly… no matter for how long I live, I know it will always hurt. This day will always hurt. The day the man I loved the most died before my eyes with so much left unsaid and pending things. My only hope is that time passes fast so we may find each other and be a happy family again, this time the three of us. Not Countess Henrietta, no society, no rules of decorum… just us, being free and happy.”

Annabelle ghosted a smile “That’s a beautiful sentiment. Your father was unlike any other men of his station. He cared dearly for every person in his life.”

Joanna smiled sourly, nodding in agreement, the pain of loss too unbearable.

“Ah! I have a wonderful idea! We should paint your father. I’ve been itching to paint again.” She suggested, her usual beaming smile on her face.

“Well… my psychologist does tell me that putting all my emotions in crafting when I can’t put them into words can be good for me.”

Miss Parsons blinked, not understanding a word “I’m sorry?”

“A psychologist is a doctor of emotions and damaged minds. Their speciality is to help you have more emotional intelligence and power over your emotions without damaging anyone or yourself in the process. It’s scary at first, to share your deepest thoughts with a stranger, but it’s for the best. They’re trained to do so. They never judge or mock you, but understand you and through a connection between patient and psychologist. I think they will be the future of society, though it’s a long way before they’re noticed.”

“That…sounds kind of nice, actually. Will you introduce me to one?”

“When you visit The Circle, I promise you, it will be the first thing that I will show you of its society will be her.”

“Wait, her? As in a woman?” She asked, shocked.

“Yep! Both women and men can be doctors and nurses and surgeons and… well, everything they wish to be.”

“E-even artists?”

“Especially artists. It has been a rising of female artists since the Baroque.”

“Your city truly sounds like a dream,” She squealed “you’re really tempting me to escape there and make my way into the world!”

Joanna placed her hand into her cheek and whispered “I’d love nothing more than welcome you into the city and help you thrive into Dracarian Society,” They looked at each other intensely before Joanna cleared her throat, “So, um, shall we paint?”

“I was hoping you’d say yes… I confess I grabbed your easel out from your parlour early today.”

Joanna chortled, “Snagging my things already, are we?”

“Can you blame me?” She beamed “You’re learning so quickly, I’m confident you’ll catch his likeness!”

Joanna looked away shyly “I really hope so.”

Miss Parsons let out a rather loud squeal “Let’s set up over there.”

“Why, someone’s eager, alright.”

She stood the canvas on the easel and mixed the needed colours. She closed her eyes, recalling her dear father’s features, his smile, his kind eyes, his grey hair, … For a small moment, she could feel his presence, beaming at her… she lifted her brush and started painting.

“Back when I first started calling on Harry, I used to sneak in here and read. He liked to joke that I came here because of the books instead of him.”

“I mean, what’s a man compared to a whole universe of fun that does not disappoint you at some point?” Joanna teased.

“I get your point, but Harry never disappointed. He was also very different from many men in court. He was a delight to have around, and never asked anything of me.”

“You’re fond of him. He seems far more likeable than me.”

Miss Parsons looked at her intensely, “No one is as delightful or likeable as you, Joanna.”

Her heart thumped at a deadly speed, threatening to get out, making her gulp. She took a deep, steady breath before continuing painting, her brush tracing delicately in the easel, “Ahem, so, why didn’t you simply use your estate’s library?”

“Your father had the best books. His library is full of philosophy and politics and theory… all of my favourites.”

Joanna smirked “A woman who nurtures her mind is a woman after my own heart.”

Miss Parsons winked at her “Likewise.” Feeling bold, with her free hand she lifted it and trailed her hand over her arm sensually, licking her lips and biting her lower one. Annabelle’s breath got caught and traced her fingers over her knuckles, “Joanna, we’ll never finish the portraits if you continue flirting like that.” She teased.

“Trust me, love, I can do way better… I’m just warming up.”

She caressed with her lips her knuckles and focused on the painting, leaving her panting faintly. She cleared her throat “One day I snuck here to read ‘An Enquiry Concerning Political Justice’ by William Godwin…”

“I sense that it didn’t end up well…”

She nodded and fumed “I was just grasping his thesis in the third chapter… When Countess Henrietta snatched the book out of my hand!”

Joanna rolled her eyes so hard she thought she’d become blind “Ugh, Bitterta again. Is her life so boring and uneventful that she has to torment people?”

“Right?! All I wanted was peace! Anyways, she told me the book was improper for a lady to be reading, far too studious. Do you believe it?”

“Actually, I do. Grown-ups tend to tell us women that we shouldn’t be smarter or too studious because we’d get ‘wrong ideas’ and end up in a bawdy place, when all they want is to indoctrinate us into being submissive, quiet and obedient towards them, therefore, they avoid being questioned and even called out when they’re being horrible with you. If you’re smart, you will be able to perceive what they do right and wrong and they will no longer have the power to give you the ideas they want to give you, especially about men and marriage.”

“That’s a really impressive observation, Lady Joanna. And you’re probably right. She slammed the book closed and shooed me off the room… But your father was on the other side of the door!” She smiled “he said if I wanted to discuss Godwin, I could always sneak into his study after my visits with Harry ended. We started meeting weekly at three for discussions, and he’d give me a new book to read each time. I’m convinced it was the greatest secret tradition ever.”

Joanna smiled at her “My mother insisted on educating me like a true lady. She taught me oratory, politics, science, mathematics, physics, physical education of all sorts, singing, dancing, architecture, literature, history of all kind, war tactics, … There isn’t a book in my library in The Circle I did not read or memorized by heart. Though I refused to paint and play the pianoforte, but I play the violin quite cleverly.” She winked.

“And the men in your life never said a thing?”

“They encouraged and participated in my education! I also learned Atticus Greek, Classic and Archaic Latin, French, Hebrew, Russian, Pre-Columbine languages, Spanish, Prussian and many other languages.”

“Wow! You really are an accomplished lady! I don’t think I could learn all of that, especially being fluent in ten languages! You must be the most educated woman I’ve ever met!”

“Well, I’m not the first.”

Miss Parsons sighed “I wish I were that smart.”

“Annie… you are smart, in your own way. I’ve met people who have bachelors and degrees of the best schools but in society they’re poor buffoons. In fact, there are different kinds of intelligence, both intellectual and emotional. And I’d love to teach you all about ethics and morals,” she winked “It’ll be one of the most interesting dates.”

“A date, you say?”

Joanna decided to make her laugh, imitating the countess’s high falsetto “A woman studying something that isn’t about being submissive and obedient and demure?! My, it is indeed a scandal! Oh my, you youngsters will be the death of polite society! Ohh!” Then she pretended to faint, thing that made Annabelle laugh loudly, and she joined her.

“I hear Miss Parsons has been filling her mind with politics! How dreadfully scandalous for a lady!”

Joanna adopted Duke Richards’s exaggerated high tenor voice “Indeed, my lady! Women ought to be stupid, meek and obedient to do my bidding! Oh, I can hardly stand the image! Excuse me, ladies, but such scandal requires me to go back to Wankerland, where I am King of Pathetic! Excuse moi!” And levelled her thigh up, as if hinting to show off his friend and marched through the door and pretended to slam, “Oh, my! I am such a big wanker that I cannot fit in the door! Guess I’ll get drunk by fantasies that will never become true, such as a lady enduring my endless talking about me until I am too drunk to even think!” She sat on the floor and jumped, “Oh, I forgot! I don’t think because I have no braincells!”

Miss Parsons was red with laughter, on the floor, barely making a noise as she laughs, clutching her stomach. Joanna crawled at her, crying of laughter, both on the floor, the painting forgotten.

“I did not know you were such a comedian, Joanna!” She said between laughter.

“Another part of my education. It’s called: most men are stupid.” She fitted another laugh.

Annabelle laughed again, coughing out of dryness because of the amount of time laughing.

“I feel like I’m ten again.” Joanna commented.

Annabelle nodded, wiping her tears off the face, “We should continue the paintings.” She giggled “I’m not seeing Duke Richards entering through a door the same again.”

She peeked over her painting “Joanna! Your painting is coming out beautifully! You make a quick study…” She seemed certainly impressed.

“I happen to have an excellent teacher.” She winked.

Miss Parsons looked her own painting and furrowed her brows “Oh, posh! Your painting is turning out better than mine!”

Joanna teased her again, “At long last, I dethrone the queen!”

They both giggled, “You’re terrible! I’ll still beat you to finish, though!”

Joanna snorted “You do realise I have super-speed, right?”

“But I have experience by my side!” She sticked her tongue out.

“Well, I’m not going down without a fight!”

Miss Parsons turned back on her painting, her nose scrunching up in concentration. Joanna reached out and curled one curl of hair around her finger sensually. Annabelle leaned in her caress, her paintbrush slowing “Joanna, I can’t concentrate with you doing that… Wait, was it your plan all along?”

“Maaaaybe…”

“You tease… we’ll never finish if you don’t focus! Try all you wish, but I will finish first! I can’t help that I’m such an accomplished lady!”

She drew her last words with a sense of importance. Both women shared a laugh and turned back to their paintings.

“I wonder, did Harry ever join you and my father in the study?”

“Harry was not the most… studious man. Your father liked that I wanted to support Harry in that way.”

Joanna frowned “Shame. At least he was smart, wasn’t he?”

“Socially smart, yes.” She sighed, her expression falling “After Harry died, our meetings slowed, and the ones we did have took a different tone. And now…”

“You feel guilty about skipping the meetings with him and have this regret in your heart.”

Annabelle nodded, “I think I know how you feel now. I thought I could make it up to him, but…”

“Life and London happened.”

Annabelle smiled through tears “You have this ability to read me like a book.”

Joanna squeezed her hand, “I’m just observant and perceptive. Alas, we still have each other. You don’t always lose, you can also win, and if you need me… I’ll be there. I will always be there for you.”

Annabelle beamed at her “Your company is what has kept me sane through all of this.” They both wiped each other’s tears and focused again on the paintings, adding the final touches and standing back to survey them. Joanna smiled satisfied to herself “Oh, Joanna! This is so lifelike!” She gasped, clearly impressed by her friend’s actions.

“I must thank my incredible memory and recent events for the outcome.” She smiled, proud of herself.

“And a wealth of natural talent.” Miss Parsons added.

She looked at the painting and caressed it, now feeling his presence behind her, “I’m certain he would’ve loved to see these.”

“Absolutely! You should hang it in this room!” Annabelle suggested.

“Only if you hang yours in the Edgewater room of earls and countesses.”

She smiled at her “Deal. There’s a space over the fireplace that would be perfect for it.”

She nodded “It’s though as he left that space for me only.”

Both women took each corner of the painting and hung it over the wall with care and smiled to themselves.

Now you shan’t be forgotten, Papa.

“I wish I could’ve thanked him once more for bringing you into my life.”

Joanna smirked at her “There was a first time?”

They both chuckled as Joanna hugged Annabelle by the waist. She kissed her temple and both women admired their work and all the memories within.

“Annabelle… thank you. For being always there for me. I don’t know how I could’ve gotten through all of this without your aid.”

She smiled at her “You talk me up too much… But I feel the same way, Joanna.”

She smiled at Annabelle and took her hands, drawing small ghosts on her knuckles “My father would’ve certainly loved the idea of us painting together.” She sighed “All he ever wanted for me was to be happy, and I can’t think of more joyous moments than when I’m with you.” She didn’t even think about it, she just said it.

“Oh, Joanna, are you trying to give me heart flutters?”

“If that were the case, I would do… this.” She lifted her hand and caressed the road of the vein of her arm and kissed it with sensuality and longing, “And this…” She kissed her wrist and with one swift movement, grabbed gently with one hand her cheek and the other went to her curls. With her thumb, she traced her lips and massaged her hair, gaining a gasp from Annabelle. She kissed her cheek. Her other cheek. Her jaw. Her earlobe. The hand on her hair went to her waist and drew circles on it, her lips merely inches away. Miss Parsons happily obliged as her hands went to the back of her neck and their lips nearly touched, already savouring it…

When suddenly, the door slams wide open! Joanna and Annabelle jump back and both glare at the arse who interrupted their moment.

“Have any of you seen where Mr. Marlcaster is? Miss Sutton has sent me on a wild goose chase for him. I swear.”

Joanna gave her an icy glare that could’ve melted her insides in seconds “I don’t know where the dingus is and I don’t give a flying fuck. Go elsewhere, he is not here.”

“And wherever he is, he may want to be left alone… so he can grieve in his own way.”

“Now fuck off and don’t come back.” Added Joanna.

Miss Bowman shrugged, trying not to show her fear towards Joanna’s deadly glare that had wakened an ice cold on her back, and wandered off the hall, continuing her search.

“Now that the annoying minion is gone… where were we?”

Annabelle took a deep breath “We should better leave….”

Joanna cleared her throat “Of course. I’d hate to put you through more trouble.”

She took a last look at the painting and hurried downstairs.

“I’ll return to the guests now.” She squeezed her hand and scurried off, leaving her alone in the foyer.

She grabbed her bottle and gave it a rather generous chug before considering what to do next.

Her eyes went back where Mr. Harper had scurried off before, the door still open. She glanced around before going to the promised place. As she approached the stables, she heard a beautiful song with a mournful theme, drifting towards her with the soft breeze.

“Your voice, which guided me so far, now fades to memory…”

That must be Mr. Harper.

Entering the stables, she saw Luke with his fiddle, sitting on a stool, singing to the horses. Bellefleur neighed at the sight of her owner. Mr. Harper stopped playing at the sight of her “Lady Joanna.” He smiled.

“Mr. Harper, that was a lovely song. I’ve missed your music since our tea in London.”

“You only must name it, my lady, and I shall sing for you.”

Joanna smiled at him, “I’m counting on that. Though, why are you playing such a lovely song all alone?”

“I have the horses to keep me company. They have been on edge since your father died.”

“Haven’t we all?”

“Their reason is that the earl used to visit the horses every night. It’s how I got to know him.” His face fell “They have taken notice of his absence, and they miss him. I was playing them a song to calm their nerves… and mine too.”

“This must be difficult for you… I know how much you respected my father.”

“Aye, more than any man of his station.”

Joanna chuckled “I know what you mean.”

“I’ll miss having him around the stables.”

Her face fell, “You and everybody.”

Mr. Harper rose and extended his hand to her “What say we go outside and enjoy the cool air of the night?”

“My answer is yes.” She took his hand and allowed him to guide her outside.

Mr. Harper led her through the gardens, near the lake. She looked at the water, now dark blue and then, to the path they just came from.

“You said that my father used to visit the stable. How come I never knew?”

“It seemed to be some sort of ritual to him. Horses have always been important to Edgewater, and that legacy was important to the earl. He took notice of my way with animals and we talked through the evening.”  

“I get it, you know,” Joanna said, looking at the sky, “having a legacy to protect at all costs. I used to visit the stables in the Circle, to check that this was real, that I was indeed an Imperial Princess. I, too, shared interests with the Empress. She said that my family’s castle was the most beautiful she had ever witnessed on her 955 years of life.”

“How is she like? The Empress, I mean.”

Joanna chuckled “Sweet. Wise beyond her centuries. With a knack for knowing what might happen next. Even when her husband, the emperor, was still alive, she was just as important as him. There was a royal bard that compared them to King Arthur and Queen Guinevere.”

“I never made it to The Circle. I had many chances, but my patron was fearful of what they could do to me in there.”

Joanna scoffed “The Circle is not London. We are very open-minded. Sure! There’s an arse who has a narrow mind and still lives in a cavern, but there are many of those everywhere. They wouldn’t reject you for what you think. We’re just weary of mortals because of the genocides and burnings, but not because of your race or upbringing. It’s such nonsense to hate on someone for being different! Not to mention exhausting. No other person on the planet is the same. We’re all unique. The sooner you humans own it up, the better.”

“That’s the secret of a thriving civilization?”

“Exactly.”

Mr. Harper smiled down to her “You will be a great Empress.”

“Why do you think so?”

“You know your history. You are wise, and look out for your people, and you’re fearless and inspiring, and likeable. How could you not be a good Empress?”

They walked through several paces, staring at the moonlit plants.

“So, Mr. Harper, I believe I was promised a song?”

“Aye, you were, though you heard some of it.”

“Did you write it? Impressive.”

“I surely did. I started writing it after your father passed… though I confess I do not know how to finish it.” He looked at her through the eyelashes “I hoped you might help me.”

“I’d love to. Let’s hear it, then.”

Mr. Harper released her arm and placed the fiddle within his chin. He guided his bow across the strings, eliciting the same haunting melody she heard before.

“Your voice, which guided me so far, now fades to memory… And though I carry you in my heart, it seems you’re lost to me. If I could, I’d follow you to the realms beyond my sight. But in lieu, I’ll think of you, as you pass into the night.” Mr. Harper’s hands and voice went still, and looked at Joanna expectantly.

“I think it should end up as ‘To show me how to be someone who you would be proud of.’”

Luke looked at her with fondness “He was proud of you, you know that, right?”

Joanna chuckled bitterly, “I hope you’re right.” A half-smile spread all over her face, and she drew out a sigh “You know, I’ve played many instruments, but never the fiddle.”

“I’ve taught many fellow soldiers the basics. If you see that as a worthy instruction, I would be happy to do the same for you.”

Joanna smiled at him “It never hurts to learn more. I pretty much dominate the pianoforte; this should be a piece of cake.”

Mr. Harper handed her the fiddle and placed it gently against her chin “When using the bow,” he started explaining, now his voice in a teaching tone, “let the weight of your hand provide the power. Use your muscles only to provide guidance.” He stepped back and waited for her to begin. Joanna placed the bow on the strings, a beautiful melody coming out of her hands, a melody about how one was lost in oneself, yearning to find their place in the world. Luke beamed at her, “I knew you could do it, though I’d like to provide you some guidance. May I?”

“Please.”

Mr. Harper moved behind her and placed his hands over the neck of the bow, covering her own hands. Joanna couldn’t just ignore the pressure of his body against her, the solidity of his muscles. She hummed pleased “Like this.” He moved her hands, tilting the bow and drawing it effortlessly across the strings “You will certainly get the hang of it with a bit of practise.”

Joanna decided to be a bit coy, and started to move in tandem with Mr. Harper, allowing his hands to guide hers, creating a beautiful melody “It’s beautiful…” She commented.

“Aye, like the woman who made it.”

Joanna smirked at him, pressing her body against his, gaining from him a muffled squeak “Give yourself some credit, my dear Mr. Harper.”

He cleared his throat and stepped aside. Joanna took the hint, thanking him for his guidance. He responded humbly “My fiddle and I are at your disposal, should you ever desire another lesson.”

“What if what I desire is you?”

He swallowed hard “Don’t do that, my lady.”

She looked at him with intensity “Do what exactly?”

He looked at her, his eyes burning with yearning and reluctance “Don’t give me hopes that I know will never become true.”

She grabbed his chin and whispered “If someone is to choose whom I want in my life, it is me, sir. Not them.”

She returned the instrument back to Mr. Harper, who ducked back into the stables to stow it. The few moments he was gone, Joanna took an earnest look at the large estate, weighing her options. When would be the right time to tell them? That the true heir was alive? That she wouldn’t be Countess, but Empress instead? That their lives were about to change… forever? That a war would start at any moment, any time?

She envied those mortals who when they closed their eyes, they saw only darkness. When she did so, she saw too many things: she saw mayhem, possibilities of all kind, she saw the future and the past. Too many things for her own sanity.

As Mr. Harper emerged, Joanna realised a reality she had been trying to delay for too long, her eyes welling with tears “Luke…”

“What is it? Are you alright, my lady?”

“Thomas… my father… everybody I loved, love and will love will die at some point, while I will live forever. I will always be all alone. Which means I’ll never be happy… or able to fully commit, knowing that the person will die at some point.”

He moved closer to her and placed a comforting hand on her arm, “You will be far from alone, my lady. You have your family, Briar, Miss Parsons… and you have me. Others care about you… even Mr. Sinclaire seems to be warming up to you, and I’ve never seen him being so amiable with anyone, save your father.”

Joanna chuckled between tears “All of them will die, in, what, eighty years? For you that’s a lifetime. For me, I will be only beginning my life.”

He gave her arm a comforting squeeze “Even if we do all die in the end but you, we will all be glad to be beside you and some of us might have families of our own… even you, if that’s your call.”

“I… won’t deny that the family might start growing at some point… The loneliest man of the ton will finally be able to form his own family.”

Mr. Harper frowned “What do you mean, my lady?”

She took a deep breath “I cannot say much, but… the Goddesses have chosen my heir, and her father is among us.”

“Who is he?”

Joanna sighed “I cannot tell you; but no, he isn’t aware that he has a living firstborn daughter… yet. But he will. With time. And my guidance.”

She glanced down at his hand, still on her arm. A big storm was coming, yes, but she didn’t mind. As long as she had him by her side, she’d be fine.

“May I know her name?” He asked of all sudden.

“She doesn’t have one… yet. I was thinking Tatiana, or Colette, or Eleanor.”

“Whatever name you choose her, I know you’ll be a great mother figure to her. Is he at least married?”

Joanna frowned “I’m sorry… I wish I could tell you all about it, but I can’t. I made the mother a vow to keep her secret safe from everybody. It’s not personal, I swear.”

He nodded “I understand.”

She gave him a thankful smile and cleared her throat, wiping out the tears away. Battling against her own common sense, she leaned her head against his shoulder. He reached up to stroke her own hair “We are all so fortunate to have you here, Lady Joanna.”

“Mr. Harper… Luke… Thank you. You’ve taught me today to worry about the future when it comes. I shall now look at what I have certainty about: the here and now.”

“I am pleased of being of aid.”

She leaned and kissed his cheek tenderly. Mr. Harper stiffed for a moment, not expecting such an improper behaviour, but he did not seem displeased. His cheeks were burning, but he felt in heaven for a moment, like he had been lifted to it. His cheek felt cold the moment her mouth left his skin, his heart beating at an impossible rate.

They stood there for a moment before Joanna stared at the lights of the imposing manor.

“I regret to say this… but we should head back, for our sakes.”

“Aye, that’s likely for the best. If it would please you, I’d like to walk you to the door.”

Joanna smiled at him “I’d love nothing more.”

Mr. Harper obliged and accompanied her back to the entry of the manor. She bid him adieu and returned to her guests, one last person in mind before doing what she had been waiting for a long time.

She took a deep breath and walked straight to Prince Hamid’s direction, chatting animatedly with Mr. Konevi. He was gesticulating widely, but as soon as his eyes saw Joanna, he dropped his arms, his beam visible from the other side of the room “I hope I’m not interrupting something too interesting.”

“Not at all! Mr. Konevi, I will finish my tale another time. No story is a match for the company of a handsome heiress. You understand, no?”

“Absolutely, Your Highness.” Replied Mr. Konevi, a coy smile on his face. Then, he left them both with a respectful bow and headed in direction of Mr. Chambers.

“If it’s not too late, I’d love to take up the offer of going stargazing with you, if it still stands.”

“’If it still stands?’ It’s leaping of joy at your acceptance!” He beamed, a wide smile touching his corners.

The prince offered her the crook of his arm and she took it wistfully “Let’s away.”

“Yes, let’s.”

Prince Hamid led Joanna to the lake, right into the stillness of the night.

“You keep a strong face, Lady Joanna… Stronger than I could have. What drives your perseverance?”

“Honestly? I’m not doing so well. I’m just putting through a polite face and try to contain myself from screaming and crying and kicking like a small child. I’ve done this before, but that does not mean that I will ever get used to it. It happened when my uncles Fabian and Niklaus died, but I barely remember them and I was a child. This is different. Just as it was different when my poor sweet Thomas died. Every death hits different. But this one hurts too much, and it’s hard… the what-it-could’ve-been deaths always hurt, especially when it comes to kin.”

Prince Hamid sighed “I know what you mean. When my grandfather died, even if I tried, I couldn’t be so brave. If it weren’t for my uncle, I don’t think I could’ve carried on…”

The two of them reached the lake and the soft light of the moon washed over her. The prince stopped on his tracks and cupped his hands to the sky, pretending to hold the moon “Isn’t she handsome tonight?”

Joanna chuckled “Haven’t you heard what happens to foolish men who wander at night in a lonesome field at night? Do you really wish to be devoured by some wolf or predator?”

Hamid looked at her with a twinkling mischief on his eyes “I wouldn’t mind if a certain panther decided to devour me. I cannot think of a more delicious death.” He winked.

Joanna laughed with a surprised smile “We’re at a funeral and all you can think about is that? Or you’re simply messing with me?”

He winked at her “You’ll never know.” They both chuckled before clearing their throats; not before looking at one another and looking away. Hamid wasn’t the first man who suggested her that—she had plenty, in fact—but she always rolled her eyes or slapped them, but with him, it was different. He was different than any other man she ever met. And she wanted to do things well and proper. She just hoped he’d see her that way too.

“Do you find everything the most marvellous thing on Earth?”

He smiled at her “Ah, but out of the world’s greatest beauties, you are its masterpiece.”

She smirked at him “Do tell,”

His smile grew wider, reaching its corners “Where do I even begin? Your perfect hair, as fiery and beautiful like a bonfire, your eyes, the reflection of the sea—,”.

Joanna giggled, shaking her head as the prince described her the way he saw her. If only she were half of the woman the prince saw in her “I appreciate it, but I’m hardly any of those things.”

He looked up at the moon and then back to her “You remind me of her. The moon, I mean. You have two sides: the light one that everyone sees, drawing the men’s paths and making our nights less lonely, ethereal and complexly beautiful.”

“What about the dark?”

“The dark is the part not everyone pays attention, but it’s still a part of who she is. Without a bit of dark, there wouldn’t be any light. You need some darkness in order to shine. The darker she is, the shiniest she—and you—shall glow.”

She looked at the prince through her eyelashes, not daring to meet his graze “Do you really think so?”

He lifted her hand and kissed it gently and tenderly “I know so. Besides, I’ve always found myself drawn to the moon. She helps me feel steady when I travel.”

Joanna chuckled bitterly “I feel everything but steady right now.”

“Perhaps you should lean into that feeling.”

She leaned forward, wryly, and the prince copied her, but softly fell all the way onto the ground! Joanna laughed surprised, biting her lower lip, trying to muffle without much success the sound “Are you quite alright?”

“I have never felt better! You should join me, my lady! New perspectives are good for the soul!”

“If you insist…”

She lied next to him in the grass and sighed as she looked at the sky. Prince Hamid turned to her “You are like Atlas, carrying the world atop your shoulders.”

Joanna chuckled bitterly “It does feel like it… There is so much to do…”

“Stars can be helpful during tough times. It could help you focus on them.”

“Hm. I’ve studied them and their compositions, but never seen it as something therapeutic.”

“Look at the stars… In all of my travels, I’ve learned hundreds of stories about them. They can be quite powerful! How do they make you feel?”

Joanna looked at the stars and took a deep breath, before opening her eyes “They make me feel… nostalgic. Back in the Circle, they say that the stars are the remnants of our ancestors. Their soul goes up to the sky and remain there.” She sighed “Watching over us, making sure we’re happy and all those things, you know?”

“That’s a curious yet beautiful insight. Your people are really advanced and wise.”

She chuckled to herself “We still have to learn many more things. We’re far from perfect.”

Hamid looked at her “But you’re willing to learn. Not every nation can say the same.”

Joanna chuckled “It’s never too late to learn from your mistakes.”

Knowing that this was a painful subject to her, Hamid changed the subject “The stars can tell many things about yourself. Your past, present and future are mapped out in the sky.” He smiled.

Joanna snorted “You should know by now that the stars have very little to do with the future and what could happen.”

“Eh, a man can dream.” Then, he frowned “As I told you before, I struggled greatly with my grandfather’s death when I was young. I cried for hours the day he died…”

“…Until your uncle taught you about the constellations.” Joanna finished, not skipping a bit.

He smiled at her gratefully for the memory, “I never knew those little dots held stories! I was so distracted, my tears dried.”

“I’m sorry for your grandfather.”

The prince looked at her and considered it for a moment “Perhaps for this night, we shouldn’t focus on what we’ve lost… For we have gained so much as well! Why not think of those things?” The prince picked her hand and played with her fingers, calloused with war and training and hard work. “I have so much to be grateful for…”

A small cluster of stars, almost in a shape of an arrow, called her attention. She pointed at them “That’s the Pleiades, isn’t it?”

“Good eye! My favourite! We must be kindred spirits, you and I.”

Joanna smiled at him “We may be.”

“If I remember well, it’s about a group of sisters.”

He beamed “Yes, it is. Or at least the legend says it. It reminds me of my sisters back at home.”

Joanna looked at him with curiosity “Sisters? Like, in plural? How many do you even have?”

“Yes, I have five! We were all attached like glue to each other when we were little. I miss them dearly when I travel. Looking at the constellation helps me feel like my sisters are here with me.”

“Don’t you feel outnumbered or bothered with so many women back at home?” She asked in a teasing manner. He laughed loudly.

“They can be quite annoying, but I love them with all my heart, even when they’re as gossip as a widow.”

Joanna giggled “You must’ve grown with many gits at your door declaring their love to them.”

Hamid chuckled “They didn’t lack suitors, no. Two of them are married and with children, but the others are yet to be married. My sister, Sevim, is quite rebellious. Won’t settle for a man who won’t support her writing career.”

“Hey, good for her! If a man won’t accept all of her, he doesn’t love her enough.”

Hamid smiled at her “My thoughts exactly.”

“I may have a theory of where did you learn how to flirt so brazenly…”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Am I ever?” They both chuckled “Tell me more about your favourite constellations.”

“Anything you wish, my lady. What would you like to know about?”

“Hmm… how about one about lovers.”

He smiled teasingly “You can be quite romantic. A woman after my own heart. These are Altair and Vega…” Hamid pointed at two small clusters of stars, separated by the milky way, “According to Chinese legend, they were madly in love with one another… But their parents disapproved. They separated the pair… forever.”

Joanna sighed “No matter what, history is bound to repeat itself, it seems…”

“I don’t know how anyone could pull apart two people in love… it is the greatest treasure the world holds.”

“And the purest feeling as well.”

Prince Hamid lied flat on his back and both of them took in the vast look at the sky above them.

“My people believe the stars burn bright because they’re filled with the souls of the departed,” he smiled at her “somewhere in the sky, your father and mother are smiling down on you.”

Joanna frowned, looking at him “Uh… Who do you think saved you at the races?”

He seemed now confused “Another aunt of yours?” His eyes went wide open “That was your mother?!” He lied back again “No offence, but… she looks so young!”

Joanna giggled “She’d take it as a compliment. How she came back… it’s quite difficult to explain.”

“Go on.”

She told him everything: Elias’s scheme, how he had planned to kill her, how he buried her somewhere no one could ever find her, the dagger, the war coming, the Coventus… everything. During ten minutes, the prince was silent, listening to the lady and her adventurous tale “…And I am confident that the Gods want you to fight beside me, aside from other three people. And my army.”

“This is… my tongue cannot express it well enough! Of course, I’d love to fight beside you, my lady. I would do it even if destiny wanted me away from you. But who are the others?”

“Mr. Sinclaire, Mr. Harper and Miss Parsons.”

“Miss Parsons?”

Joanna snorted “Don’t tell me that you don’t think women can fight.”

“It’s not that! It’s just… unexpected. I don’t doubt Miss Parsons—I’d be damned if I dared to underestimate that woman—but I did not see it coming.”

“One of the brigades of the knights of the Empire are all women. And they’re just as deadly or more than the men’s brigades.”

His eyes went wide with excitement “I must meet this brigade!”

Joanna giggled “Soon you will.”

Suddenly, they saw a shooting star streak across the sky!

“Quick! Make a wish!”

She closed her eyes and said to herself

I wish to form my own family someday…

She knew it’d never happen again. When Thomas stabbed her with a dagger, she had died, activating her vampire side, and vampires couldn’t have children. And even if she relied on her wolf and faerie side, the Gods would never allow her to bear a mortal’s child at any circumstance.

But only time could tell. Most of them had children with mortals. Why would she be any different?

She hoped that they’d be benevolent on her. How unfair was that they could have many children and she couldn’t?! It would be quite hypocritical of them. Especially Zeus. Not to mention awfully rich of him.

“I wish to be with the ones I love.”

Prince Hamid smiled “That is my wish as well.” He rolled over and took her hand in his. He tenderly played with her fingers and placed a kiss on her wrist. He could almost feel her pulse quicken. “If I may confess… I have been wishing for that since we met.”

Joanna snorted “You wished to be alone with a complete stranger?”

He smiled at her slyly “And how could I not, when said complete stranger is a dashing, alluring and most handsome woman my eyes have ever contemplated?” The shooting star winked brightly, then vanished into the darkness. “In my travels, I have heard that the shooting stars represent both endings and beginnings. But I like to think that someone in the Heavens is thinking of you.”

With her hand, she traced the path of the star and sighed “I miss you too, Father. Very much.”

The damp chill of the earth took over her body and shivered slightly.

Prince Hamid’s face fell “I suppose mother earth is telling us we’ve been gone too long.”

She looked at him “Mother Earth has bigger worries than us.”

She wiggled towards him and then in his arms, resting her head lightly on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat quickening beneath his chest, and felt his muscles flex beneath her as he placed his hands on her back. She looked at him with yearning and her pupils went dark and her lips separated. He pulled her even closer…

“Can I tell you a secret?” He whispered. She nodded, “When we are apart, and my heart longs for you… I always look at the moon.”

“Oh, I know this one. Because it gives you reassurance that we are not so apart and we will always be under the same star.”

He feigned disappointment “Don’t tell me I’m not the first man who has told you this.”

With a movement of her body, he was pinned in the grass, his hands still firm on her as she leaned and whispered “You’re the only one who has meant them.”

“Really?”

She nodded, her hand tracing his strong jaw… then his neck… then his chest... she could see his dark eyes were now blown pupils, his chest heaving, full of longing and a bit of desire, licking his lips.

He lifted his head, trying to reach hers, his firm hands begging her close, their chests together, both their cheeks red and breaths ragged, waiting for the other to make the move.

The prince tried to seek any signal that he was crossing a line, but all he could see in her was that she wanted him to take her there, and he might. One word and he would. His hand travelled to her hair and begged her even closer, too many unspeakable thoughts racing his mind, her word only holding him back. If she were to take him right there, he’d be all hers for the rest of the eternity of his body, mind and soul. Only hers. As it had been since that moment at the opera. He ventured that even before, as if Allah had placed him on his realm to be with her. He would not complain at all. On the contrary. He was ready to dedicate the rest of his life to worship her for the rest of his life, with virtues and sins included, no matter what, come what may.

He swore he heard her whisper his name, now with a far more vulnerable and desiring tone… he only needed to finally lock lips with her and he’d be all hers in matter of mind, soul, body and being.

When a duck loudly quacked, startling both of them out of the moment. Hamid pulled back and shook his head, “My lady, I forget myself. I think that is duck for ‘it is time to go inside’.”

“Do you really care for what a duck has to say?” She seemed bothered.

He gulped and caressed her face “I do not wish to ruin your reputation and good name or offend you in any way, my lady.”

She whispered in his ear “Let me worry about my reputation and good name.”

He inhaled sharply “My lady… do not mistake me. I yearn for this more than anything on earth, but we could be spotted and it’s your father’s funeral. It’s just… not the right time, my lady. Not yet.”

She sighed, nodding as she got up and brushed off the detritus off her dress and hair “Fine, you have a point, but I’ll take the ‘not yet’ when time comes.” She winked.

He smiled at her “I shall await every day for that occasion.” The prince offered the crook of her arm and she took it “Shall we?”

Back in the foyer, prince Hamid bid Joanna goodbye.

Looking for any signal of being watched, she ducked back out and raced towards the graveyard, where her father’s body now rested. She made sure no one else could see her and finally broke down in tears. She got on her knees, clutching her father’s ring and sobbing more loudly than she cared to admit, she started to talk “I still don’t understand why the hell did you leave us. We had so many things to do… so many things left unsaid for the rest of my life…”

“I know the feeling,” She whipped her head to find her mother, in a beautiful Dracarian mourning dress and knelt down with her daughter. They both cried in silent, leaning on the other’s shoulders and mourning him together.

“Will it always hurt so much?” She asked to her mother.

“Not always. It will always hurt, but one day, you’ll heal from the burning pain and learn how to live with it.”

When Joanna retired to her room, Odessa was left with him at last. Or, well, what was left of him on Earth.

“I always wondered, all these years… why, Vincent? Why didn’t you fight for me, for us, if your love was so deep? Why did you just… gave up on us? Turned your back on me, on her? Do you have any idea of the damage you caused? How much I…” she inhaled sharply, shakily, finally saying those words out loud “how much I needed you beside me? To raise her? Love her? Give her the infancy she deserved? I never understood. I thought our love was the rare one that really could move mountains, yet you shitted your pants the moment we were threatened and ran away from the beginning.” She took a deep breath “You made me happier than anyone else on earth, yet you broke my heart like I never thought you would be capable of so. After all I confided you, open you a heart that had been caged for five hundred years to then throw it all away for your daddy’s approval… I was angry at you. I really was. I still am. I thought you didn’t care at all. We could’ve fought back. I had the sources.” She punched the ground “Dammit, a whole empire waited for you! A family that saw who you really were, not what you expected you to be! And you chose them over us! OVER ME!!” She did not know what she said next.

She spent the next hour yelling at his grave, from calling him out to try to understand why to then beg him to come back to her. She had never felt like this before, and she hated it. Her heart ached in a way that burned her alive, slowly, agonizingly, excruciatingly. She cried and cried, over and over, finally letting go of everything she bottled up for twenty-one years.

“…And the worst of it is that I will never have the chance to tell you face-to-face!”

She wailed, now lying on the ground, her heart heavier than the universe itself.

And, for a few hours, she slept like a new-born, thing that hadn’t happened in a century and half.

A few days later, Joanna, Briar and Darcy were walking down the hall together. She paused at the entrance of her father’s bedroom and tears pickled on her eyes.

“A week later, and I still can’t believe that he is truly gone… it all happened so fast…”

“It’s odd not finding tea service or a fire in his room.” Briar added.

Darcy whined, joining the sighs of the ladies. Joanna scratched his ear.

“Shame that he never got to meet you…” She heard a meow and the little panther came out of the room, a sack of letters on her mouth. She tried to give them to Joanna. She chuckled “My father trained you well, didn’t he?”

Briar’s attention was now on the little panther “Oooh, she’s so adorable! Aren’t you a little panther that will never eat me alive? Yes, you are, yes you are!”

“Let’s focus on these letters. If this pretty girl says they might be important, they must be! Let’s go!”

They rushed towards her room and she locked it in a way not even the countess could come in.

“These span years.”

“Look at this one! It dates before I was even born! I wonder…”

She picked the yellowed envelope and started to read:

17th of April, 1795

My dearest,

I write to you with a mixed heart, for I just found out that I am with child. Your child, borne in our love.

The thought of raising your child cheers my heart, for it was what I always wanted, but also breaks it, for you won’t be able to see them grow. No matter who they become, they will always be a reminder of you and the fact that you and I are no more. The elders are angry and my world has just fallen apart. I do not know what to do. For the first time in centuries, I’m terrified. I really wish you were here to guide me. You were always the voice of reason of us both.

After the dreadful annulment, your father told me not to write, but pardon my language, he can stick his threats up to his tight arse. I do not wish anything from you. It’s been me against the world for nearly eight centuries, I won’t stop now. But it cannot stop me from lamenting that you will never get to see our sweet, beautiful babe.

Forever in your heart,

Mary.

When she finished reading, she observed Briar sniffling with Darcy in her arms “Some things never change.”

“Leave me be, it’s just so tragic!”

“Very well, we shall read them all.”

“Thought you’d never say it!”

“Even I am curious of what happened through her eyes.” She admitted. She caught one and gasped “This was from my birth!”

“What does it say?” Briar asked.

She ran her fingers through her mother’s letter and started reading:

12nd of April, 1795

My dearest,

She has arrived. Our little, precious girl is now part of this cold, cruel world that has dared to separate us. She was born as the morning birds sang and the people in the village protested about how unfair the big cities are with them—she will indeed become an opinionated woman with a fighting spirit, I can tell.

I have named her Joanna Feyre Anissa Julia Devonne Celestia, but when I nurse her I call her JoJo, like my good friend Juana de Trámstara, or known as Joanna The Mad. I figured to have a laugh at history about the name Joanna—many controversial women in history were named like that, and by how I plan to raise her, she’ll cause many turmoils among those idiotic grown men—like the dingus of your father. She has your smile—and what a smile! I pray to the Gods that she inherits your unconditional kindness and a bit of my wits—she’s so beautiful, she will cause quite a stir, and you know the price of being poor and beautiful.

I am well aware of the danger of writing to you, but I think you’re entitled to know about her. I have moved to a small village called Grovershire so she and I may be a family. Elias volunteered as a guardian. I know what you must think: he was the one to rat us out, but he is trying to redeem himself. He really is. And I believe him.

I pray to the Gods that we may be someday three.

Yours,

Mary

“I did not know that you had six names! I wonder who that Juana the Mad was…” Briar exclaimed.

“A new thing that you know about me.” She sighed “I wonder what would’ve happened if father ever read those…”

“Do you think he would’ve been able to join you in Grovershire?”

A familiar voice interrupted the women “Knowing that hopeless romantic, he would’ve cancelled his marriage to that sniper and made me his Countess and you, the Lady of the House. He was more than a dreamer; he was a firm believer of love.”

Briar gasped “Miss Mills! You’re alive!”

“No, I’m a ghost. Boo!” Odessa teased the young woman.

“Why is your hair now brunette?”

Odessa smirked “I’ll tell you one day over that tea you so love.”

Briar looked to the woman “Do you think… it would have been a chance to be a family?”

Odessa’s face fell “Perhaps, but it is too late to lament of impossible what-could-have-been. We must focus on the present now. But please, keep reading. I know those letters by heart.”

She picked a letter from the middle “Oh, look, my first birthday!”

Odessa smiled as she leaned on the window.

12nd of April, 1796

My dearest,

I did it. I survived my first year with our precious Joanna without your guidance. On challenging days, I think of you and your patience. I cannot replicate it to perfection, but I do my best.

Joanna has walked for the first time and said her first word: Papa. Which, I confess, I tried not to cry. I was overjoyed but… what was the point of saying that word when you’re not there to be as overjoyed, cover her in kisses and ask her to repeat it while you boast to everybody that your daughter’s first word is Papa? It burned my stomach alive, but when I saw her, smiling and laughing, I could not help but smile too. When she walked towards me, I saw the firmness and determination to get to me no matter how many times she fell. That was so you… I’m completely whipped about her. She is a female incarnation of you.

She is so dauntingly similar to you; it breaks my heart and makes it soar at the same time. People will start noticing how little alike me she is. I’ve had to make up a story about how I ended up in here. I never liked changing names and making up backstories and change places, but it’s the place to be me. If anyone asks, my name is Ellen Mills. Only one person knows my other undercover name.

Yours come what may:

Mary

Briar wondered “If being apart was so painful, why write? Wouldn’t that reopen the wound?”

Odessa placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder “When you love someone so much, it does not matter how bad it hurts or burns you alive, you never lose hope of seeing their face again and tell them the things left unsaid. It is the magic of true love, dear girl. You will know it when the right man comes, no matter if it’s tomorrow or forty-seven years later. If I learned something with Vincent, it was that, no matter how old you are, there’s always time and chance to love. The funniest part is that you never know where it’ll catch you, it just does, and when it does, you pray your Gods every night it never lets you go, no matter the circumstances.”

Briar nodded “You always had the wisest advices, madam.”

Briar handed her a letter that hadn’t been so touched by time, unlike the others.

“This one is… dated years after!”

She picked the letter and began to read

31st of August, 1800

My dearest,

Forgive me for not writing in a long time, but the lack of response made me lose hope of hearing from you and not the mongrel of your father.

I write to you because Joanna has been asking for you, and often. As her curiosity grows, my persistence weakens by the day. I have been trying to give her a solid answer, but nothing has come to mind: many lives lying to half of the world, and I cannot bring myself to lie to my little girl so brazenly without my heart breaking in a million pieces. It is an utter injustice that she shall never get to know the great man who sired her.

I yearn to hear your words, your voice… I yearn for you like no other. Even if I have tried to get her a father figure, they all remind me that they are not you. They are not enough. They lack what you, and only you, have. She does not lack candidates of men willing to raise her, but it is me who is so reluctant and demanding. But can you blame me? I want the best for my girl, and the best is you, my dear. No matter what, our souls remain connected for the rest of eternity until we reunite again. Come what may.

Each stroke of the quill feels like a flog on my heart, but I have borne worse. I’m not giving up on you, Vincent. As long as I write, there will be solid proof of our love.

Yours till death,

Mary.

“Now you know both sides…”

Odessa sighed “It’s a pity that you knew about it so late and in such circumstances.”

“’Tis.”

She stared at the yellowed letters resting on her lap.

“How do you feel, now that you know the full story?” Briar asked.

“I feel… I feel angry.” She looked at her mother “You did nothing wrong. Your intentions were good. You loved and respected him, and were influential and powerful, and knew how to run an estate. Why tear you apart?” Tears prickled at her face.

“Because he saw a mere singer when he looked at me. Not either of those traits.”

Joanna looked at her mother “It’s a good thing that you assured my grandfather’s fate. Should he had lived when I did, I would have struck him down myself.”

Briar gasped, horrified “You’d kill your own kin?”

Joanna spit on the floor “He is nothing to me.”

Sunny whined. Joanna heard footsteps.

“We should hide these, and so should you, Mama.”

“Give them to me.” She said instead.

“What?”

Odessa looked at her daughter “I’ll need them if I want to clean your name. That little girl needs a good family.”

Joanna nodded “Very well. Now, run! The footsteps are growing more impatient. It must be Bitterta.”

Odessa nodded and jumped off the window, disappearing from the view as Henrietta busted into the room “Give me my letters back!”

Joanna smirked “Too late, Bitterta. They’re in better hands and in their way to clean my name. You’ve lost. I win.” She got closer to her “I always win. Do you hear me? Al-ways.”

“As if any judge would believe you.”

Joanna’s smile grew wider “I have friends too. Powerful ones.”

Henrietta snorted “Like who? The wealthiest baker in London?”

She grabbed her letter from her reticule “The Tsar of Russia. This is a copy of his letter to the Prince Regent, confirming him of my parent’s marriage.” She tried to snatch it, but she was faster “Ts, ts. Don’t grab things that aren’t yours. Or didn’t your mommy teach you that? Was she so awful at motherhood as you are?”

Her face turned red “How dare you talk to me like that?”

Joanna smirked to her “What are you going to do about it? Go on, tell me, weakling. I’m dying to know what a whining old hag like you could do to me.”

“This isn’t over!”

“It is. And I result winner. So… I’d start packing your things if I were you. You won’t step foot here while I live.”

“What would your father—,”

“DO NOT TALK ABOUT HIM AS IF YOU EVER GAVE A FUCK ABOUT HIM.” She yelled, her eyes now bright topaz, the floor trembling. The countess’s face went white and gasped before running away.

“Joanna,” Briar called “I know these are hard times for you, but you’ve been acting weirdly for a long time. Every time something like that happens, the floor shakes and people run away and call you a monster. You come with brutal wounds that should kill you and survive without being in bed for weeks! Some people call you Highness! Not to mention that in the letters, your mother mentions to have lived thorough centuries!” Briar looked at her “I need to know: why is this happening? What is that secret that you’re keeping from me?”

Joanna sighed “I guess it is time you know.” She took a deep breath “I am no ordinary girl, that you know. But I’m neither human.”

“What?”

She sat on the bed and told her everything: her origins, her powers, her mission, her plans, her mother’s shenanigans and even the next things to happen in a matter of weeks.

“So… you’re a Goddess. All kind of foul creatures exist. You were destinated to meet them all, Harry’s alive and in France and… Mr. Sinclaire has a bastard daughter that is the future Empress of the Empire?” She paced around, taking it all in “I just… this is… why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Joanna sighed “I could not take any chances, not after the witch-hunt. I thought… I’d scare you away and you’d give me up to the authorities.”

Briar scoffed, clearly offended “You thought that I’d judge you and rat you out? Me, of all people? Me, your best friend?!”

“I know, and I’m sorry. You’re in all your right to be mad at me. I wanted to tell you but… the timing wasn’t right. People get hurt when they know of this world, Briar.”

“Oh, you think me weak because I’m human and mortal?!”

“I never said that.”

Briar had been crying of rage and disappointment “A few moments ago, I thought that our friendship meant something to you. Turns out, it doesn’t.”

Joanna got up and placed her arms on hers “It does, Bree! You’re one of the best things to happen to me, and I really wanted you to know! But my mother… I did it to protect you. I’ve watched too many people die in this world and I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Well, turns out you’ve hurt me before this ‘world’ ever had the chance.”

“Bree—.”

But she stormed out off the room before she could muster those words.

As she came out, Joanna slumped on her bed, crying, not caring for now who could see her. But when she closed her eyes, what she saw was too much.

Elias paced down his own cave, a smirk on his face and a projection of London. He looked at his army, a rather numerous one “My dear acolytes, in two nights, we shall take London and burn it to the ground, starting by Opera St. James…”

A small boy raised his hand “And then what, sir?”

He smirked ruefully at the boy “Then… we kill Vunera. With the blood of her loved ones, we have extracted and by Samael’s Blade, she shall be dead… alongside Planet Earth and everything she worked for. And after the Earth, we’ll go for the ENTIRE UNIVERSE!”

The army roared as Elias laughed wickedly, and smirked to her.

Joanna jumped off the bed, panting and gasping. This couldn’t happen. She had to prepare them somehow. But how? They’ve never fought a magical war before, and they didn’t have proper training.

Mother.

She wrote to the Empress’s secretary and gathered her things. Then, she went to find Briar, clutching the necklace. She slammed the servant’s door open and scanned for Briar. She also beckoned Mr. Woods “Briar, Mr. Woods, I require your immediate service.” She regained breath and gave them the supplies “I need you to find my mother and make sure her paperwork makes it to London and then go to a safehouse. Mr. Woods, you must protect Miss Daly at all costs. I shall reward you handsomely if she’s alive when I come back,” she sighed “if I come back. Now, there’s no more time to waste. And the rest of you, gather my father’s men! I have a feeling that they will try to take Edgewater. Backup and war supplies will come shortly. Come on, go to work, everybody!” She grabbed Briar by the arm and took her to a small corner despite her protests. She placed the necklace on her hands. It had a bright topaz stone, guarded with a strong, heavy iron and looked at her in the eyes “Look, danger is ahead and a battle will break soon. I must ensure your safety. When you feel that the battle breaks and comes into the safehouse, grab this as tightly as you can and repeat the next words: reppellio demonium averno. And loudly so it works. It will keep you safe. Now, hurry! Try to get to London before the 4th of May.”

“In three days? Why?”

Joanna sighed and looked both ways before looking at Briar again “Because in that night, the most gruesome and difficult battle will take place. And there’s a chance that I might die.”

Without saying another word, she ran off to her father’s study and started writing Flying Letters and waited at the lake.

The four people gathered with urgency at the Edgewater Lake, where Lady Joanna waited impatiently. It was Mr. Harper who asked “What is it, my lady?”

“It is time.”

“Time for what, my lady?” Prince Hamid asked.

She just looked at the road to London and sighed “I had hoped we had more time to prepare you all, but we must make haste.”

“Prepare us for what?” Miss Parsons asked.

“Tell us, my lady.” Mr. Sinclaire pleaded.

Joanna looked at them all “We’re at the edge of a big war. The world isn’t safe for you anymore. We’re going to the only safe place to prepare you and keep you safe.”

“Where is that, my lady?” Hamid asked.

Joanna turned her back on them and closed her eyes. She channelled her force and incantated the spell. A minute later, a portal with a forest that showed the way to a fantasy kingdom appeared “We’re going to my home. The Circle, capital of the Dracarian Empire.”

Mr. Harper chuckled shockingly “The greatest empire of them all…”

He was the first one to go in, eager to know personally the empire he had grown up reading about. Prince Hamid’s excited curiosity followed. Then Miss Parsons. She offered Mr. Sinclaire her hand “Shall we?”

He stood there in silence before nodding “Let’s go.”

And trespassed the portal, that closed itself after Joanna got in.

During the journey, Mr. Sinclaire’s grip didn’t falter and they arrived in a small forest. An imposing marble wall was before them. Two rather tall guardians stood there, intimidating, but Joanna didn’t flinch and introduced herself to them. The guardians’ eyes went wide and bowed before her “Your Imperial Highness, it is an honour to have you back. I take these are your guests?”

“Yes. We must go in. A war is coming and they are in need of training.”

The other guard looked at them and asked her “Are they who I think they are? The Empress’s prediction is true?”

“Yes, Aberama. They are my Four Holy Saviours. They’re finally here.”

The guardians rapidly opened the doors and bowed to each of them “It’s an honour to open the doors of your awaited homes, my lords… and lady.” They bowed one more time before they passed the walls and closed before them. Joanna smiled at them, extending her arms “Welcome to the heart of the Dracarian Empire, The Circle; my home.”

Duke Richards paced impatiently, ranting and throwing things “How the hell a mere bastard could be more powerful and influential than me?! ME!! I’m the Duke of Karlington, she should fear me!” He looked angrily at his minions “You had one job! Learn all of Lady Joanna’s secret to coerce her to be my wife! And you failed!!” He threw a jar to them and the younger one whimpered “You are both useless! You won’t get any coin from me, and I shall destroy you! GET OUT!”

“No wonder Joanna defeated you. You have no self-control and don’t know how to find the right man for the task at hand.”

He whipped himself to the white-haired man “Who are you and how did you trespass this house?”

“It’s quite easy. And as for who I am… I am the solution to all your problems.”

He scoffed “And how could you be my solution?”

He smirked “Because I know Joanna Mills like she were my own daughter. I have raised her and made her who she is nowadays. I know exactly her weaknesses and strengths. Work with me… and you shall have everything you ever wanted and more.”

Duke Richards smiled sinisterly “This is what I needed. What is your price?”

He got up and took the duke’s arm “I want the Crochane family’s heads on a spike and Joanna’s powers for me.” The duke started gasping and choking, his veins turning black as he fell on his knees and looked at the man. He smiled ruefully “For now on, I own you, Tristan Richards of Karlington. You live… and you die according to my will and pleasure.”

With that, he got into his body and the duke screamed for help, but it was too late. He dropped on the floor and passed out.

Several minutes later, he got up and looked at himself in the eyes and laughed wickedly. He was no longer the Duke of Karlington. He was Elias… more powerful than ever. With one movement of his hand, down to the floor, the so feared cross appeared and yelled “Raise, my children! War is upon us! At the end of the week, we shall have the entire universe at our disposal. Darkness shall reign one more time, and I shall be the King of Kings!” He laughed loudly, wickedly as all types of dark monsters came out of the ground, his eyes turning black and the sky darkening “I am coming for you, Vunera.”

[mka1098]

I Ask For Your Hand In Marriage - A PJO Fanfic

A Percy Jackson Royal AU Fanfiction 

Description: Percy is a prince, Annabeth is a royal overseer and they both are idiots who don’t realize they are in love. 

Hear it read aloud here ! - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LY0R0M8ZiE&t=17s 

Chapter One

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…” 

In fact, Percy was not doing ‘nothing’. He was basically planking on a wooden stool; he had stolen it from the kitchens. “This  isn’t nothing.” Annabeth said with a pointed tone. Percy looked at her with big innocent seal eyes. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

 Technically, he wasn’t. He was just laying on the wooden stool, swimming in the air like a normal person. Because normal people did that right? Yeahh… they totally did. 

“Where on earth did you get that?” She asked, walking over to him and crossing her arms. Her eyes were on the stool and Percy smirked up at her.

 “Oh this old thing? It’s always been here; nice to see you taking note in my decorations.” He said sarcastically. 

Annabeth frowned. “Why is this in your room.” She said tiredly. She muttered, ``I'm so tired of this, under her breath. Percy ignored it.

 “Kitchens. I wanted to teach the kids how to swim but since they have to stay by their parents, it has to be in the air. And I’ve never swam in the air so I’m practicing.” He explained.

 The corner of Annabeth’s lips raised; she was holding back a smile. “You’re a dork.” She said affectionately. Percy practically flopped around the stool; his abs were hurting from trying to stay up.

 “I’m doing good.” Percy defended himself. Annabeth ruffled his hair, making it more messy than it already was. 

“You’re always trying too.” She said with a smile. “But get up, you have other duties to perform; those that pertain to more than just the children in the kitchens.” Annabeth dragged him up and off of the stool by the front of his sleep shirt. 

“Awww.” He whined but stood up straight, reveling in the visible cringe on Annabeth's face as he stood taller than her. 

“Get that smirk off your face and get dressed. We’re meeting with the King and Queen.” Annabeth said, picking up the stool to probably go put it back. 

Percy rolled his eyes. “Those are my parents. They’ve seen me as a naked baby. I don’t think they care about me in Pjs.” He said snarkily. Annabeth narrowed her grey eyes at him. 

“It’s good to get ready anyways.” She told him, pinching the fabric of his seas themed fleece PJ pants. 

Percy stuck his tongue out at her. “Just for you.” Percy said sassily, tearing off his shirt and shrugging on a ‘nicer’ sweatshirt. It was nicer because unlike the former, it had no holes in it. Annabeth scoffed and turned around to leave the room. 

“You don’t wanna be here when I change into jeans?” Percy called after her with a devilish laugh. 

”You wish, Jackson.” Annabeth threw behind her shoulder.

Percy chuckled to himself. Not only was Annabeth his best friend, but she was also his royal overseer; it was an uproar when they announced it. The past 3 kings had the same royal overseer so it had been a shock to everyone when a randam, non-noble teenage girl had been chosen by the crown prince to take that role. But truly, she was the best option. 

For one, Percy did not listen to anyone but Annabeth. There was no way even wise old Chiron could get him to follow the old traditions that he needed too. Annabeth was able to make Percy begrudgingly put on the formal suits and perform speeches. Not only that, she was responsible, smart and organized; all things a royal overseer needed to be. Percy was so happy to have her in his life. She was the best friend ever; she dealt with him and organized everything. And she was funny and caring and never let him get away with being an idiot. They had been friends for years, 12 to be exact. Annabeth knew him better than he knew himself. 

“That took far too long.” Annabeth deadpanned when Percy stepped out of his bedroom. He stuck his tongue out at her, as all adults do. 

“No big deal.” He said, throwing an arm around Annabeth's shoulders. She shoved it off with a frown. 

“You should still look your best and be on time. Nevermind the fact that they are your parents.” She chastised. 

Percy rolled his eyes but didn’t object or talk back. “Good morning!’ He chimed to the staff; they smiled widely and greeted him with optimistic remarks. Percy had always made it a goal to make all the staff feel welcome and seen. Maybe times in the past, they were regarded as tools and Percy resented that past. 

“I overheard your father has a huge proclamation for you.” One of the staff members said with a smirk.

 Percy tilted his head to the side? “Really? They just said they wanna talk to me.” He thought out loud. 

The staff member sent him a tense smile. “Hopefully you don’t mind his proclamation.” Percy’s eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. What? Why wouldn’t he like what his father had to say? At most, it would be oh add this class to your studies, retake this class, help the general with his plans, do more royal duties. He looked over to Annabeth who was scribbling in her journal; it held all her secrets, tasks and everything. He knew this because he had stolen it once and got judo flipped in return. 

“Do you know anything?” He asked curiously. She looked up to him. “No idea.” She said drily. 

Percy couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. Either way, he had no time to figure it out because Annabeth had pushed open the throne room doors. “Ah, you’re up.” His father said with mirth in his eyes. Percy rolled his eyes like an angsty teenager. 

“No, dad I’m sleepwalking.” He replied. His father turned to his mother. 

“He gets the sass from you.” Poseidon said. 

Sally laughed. “Don’t act like you didn't contribute.” She said in a sing-song voice. Poseidon ignored that. 

“My king and queen.” Annabeth said solemnly, bowing her head

. The entire family rolled their eyes; it was ridiculous that Annabeth still felt as if she needed to bow to them or say your highness. She had practically grown up running around their halls and spoke casually to Percy. Despite all their efforts, she always used royalty manners. Poseidon cleared his throat and looked at Percy.

 “Son.” He said curtly. “Father.” Percy replied with snark; Poseidon stifled a laugh. “You are 18 now. You are an adult-” The king started. Annabeth snorted halfway through muttering, I beg to differ, your highness. Snickering, he continued. “You are going to begin to take more pressing and complex royal duties when you are 25. Starting now as a legal adult, it is important you begin to take on roles for the public to see.” Percy nodded. His parents exchanged a look. “You must find a queen.”

Percy stumbled backwards… what? He needed to what? “Now?” Percy asked in an incredulous manner. He was met with serious nods and stares. “Why now?” He practically whined. 

Percy knew he was being a brat but… they telling him he needed to find the person he’d rule next to, have children with and spend the rest of his life with… now. At age 18! He couldn’t even figure out his favorite movie, much less his permanently future wife. 

“Perseus, you of all people know how difficult it is for power exchanges to occur. Especially for Princesses from outer and different kingdom. They are deliberate and must take time. Lot’s of time, as we must start now. You need a queen. Our subjects must not be led to believe you’re underqualified to be their king.” Poseidon said strictly. He was definitely thinking of the gossiping nobles. 

Percy sighed but nodded. “I get that.” He moped. His father nodded. “But why do I need to find a queen now? I’m not taking the throne for years, I don’t need to have an heir anytime soon.” He protested.

 This time, his mother spoke. “Percy, when you start managing all of your royal duties, you work in tandem with your future queen. It wouldn’t make sense to leave that space blank. A new king and queen won’t be able to handle an entire kingdom. You need to begin your interlocking duties in the next year, so that by the time you ascent; it’s as if you’ve been ruling for years. We can’t just thrust a new queen in the middle of that entire complicated and delicate situation. Your queen will be giving her input on most all of the pressing situations and you’ll have to work on covering each other's biases. You can’t do it all alone.” Sally said with a gentle smile. 

Still Percy frowned. 

“Can’t Annabeth take over the queen’s duties and input for the time being? I don’t want to rush a relationship. She already knows what to do. She knows me well and can cover the biases or my weak areas. The royal overseer already performs duties like this. We can do it until I find a queen.” Percy tried to convince his parents but they shook their heads. 

“No, Percy. That could cause a slew of drama. You’re not going to want that and nor will your future queen.” The king said. 

“She’s my best friend and she’s fit for the role!” Percy objected. 

This time, Annabeth told him to hush. “The future queen must never be a person to be deliberated over. She must be certain. Listen to what your father is saying, there was already an uproar when I became your overseer; I do not want to even imagine the outcome of me taking on queenly duties without taking that title in the future. And more so importantly than gossip… you must marry someone of Royal status. It would be beneficial for our kingdom to have another truce. No royal-blooded Princess would want a husband who has his ‘best friend’ take over her royal duties. Must less, a commoner.” Annabeth said firmly. 

The king nodded in agreement. Percy sighed in defeat. “I don’t like this. But fine. What am I even supposed to do though?” He asked. 

Sally smiled at Annabeth. “Annabeth has lovingly and painstakingly created a plan to help you.” Percy snorted. When did she not have a plan? “She has a list of Princesses from good reputation kingdoms and has invited them to spend a day with you.” Percy sputtered. 

“Whoa so this is like speed dating or something?” 

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “No, you idiot. It’s not speed dating; who do you think I am? Each week, you will meet with one Princess for a day. If you find that you’re extremely compatible with one of them; she will be your queen.” Annabeth explained, shoving her blonde curls behind her ears.

 Percy made a silent O with his mouth. Seaweed brain, she mouthed at him. “I’d say even though it’s rather untraditional; it is a plan that has a high probability of working.” His father said.

 Annabeth nodded. “It was created with Percy in mind, your highness. Which I will admit made it difficult.” She said with a smirk. Percy squawked offendedly. “And we thank you for the plan, Annabeth dear.” His mother said kindly.

 “No one else knows him well enough.” The blonde smiled politely and bowed her head. “That is all. You two can brief on it if you’d like.” Poseidon said. Percy left after telling his parents `I love you` and kissing his mother’s cheek; Annabeth bowed, said `thank you, my king and queen` and followed Percy out the door.

That’s Chapter One! I just had an idea and ran with it. 

[turnipotentiary]

jamilton AU- wings of privilege (title under construction)

i completely forgot how to say “working on the title” so there’s that

anyways here’s something that I wrote! I’m pretty proud, I wrote around 1200 words in like an hour so hell yes me! credit to @syrannight for giving me the idea!

The royal family didn’t have guards. 

Well, that was a bit of a stretch. They did have guards, but very few. Why bother? They were above every single one of their subjects. Literally. 

The royal family was born with wings. Large, feathered, honest-to-god wings that unfolded behind their backs. They said it was the gods’ gift, that they were chosen to lead by the higher powers. The people believed them, perhaps not loving them but accepting them as their rulers. Well, they used to love them.

The people had seen no reason to end their monarchy; the Jeffersons were fair and kind and led their kingdom through times of great prosperity and freedom. They loved their people, and their people loved them in return. The Jeffersons were good.

Until they weren’t.

The dawn of a new era was evident in the first decree King Peter made, stating that any dissidents of the king would be prosecuted and publicly hanged. Fear spread through the kingdom like a plague, infecting the people and sinking its harsh claws into their chests, reducing their talk to whispers, their vibrant households to mere shells of their former selves. Soldiers took as they pleased, whether lives or property, and crime was abundant. The king, sitting high above on his throne of gold and wings of rich yellow, tinged dark and repulsive by the stain of his greed and tyranny, didn’t raise a hand for the people so long as his taxes were paid.

Thomas was a small child when this happened, when his grandfather died and the strange shadow fell over the people. His mother told him he was being paranoid, that this was how it had always been. Every time the bodies of innocent citizens hung from poles, displayed for all to see like grotesque trophies, he was told they were attempting to hurt the king. Every time, he nodded, little face scrunched in hatred at these people who wanted his father gone, who hated him because of the wings on his back. He loved his father, and his wings, which were bright, vibrant magenta, his favorite color. Still, he didn’t like the bodies, and he was grateful when his mother came back from her trips and there were less of them.

Then, when he was approaching eleven, tragedy struck his sheltered, spoiled life in his home in the sky. His mother fell ill and died, dark fuschia feathers fading to grey as she shuddered one last breath and fell silent.

It was the only time he’d ever seen his father cry.

The next day, his father took him into his study. “Listen here,” he told Thomas. “Don’t believe the lies they’ll tell you, that all men are created equal. You will someday have all the power one could ever wish for. Use it as you please, because it is your right and yours alone.” 

With his mother gone, he grew closer to his brother, Lafayette. They’d tell each other stories of what they’d do when they were king, the endless sweets they’d have and the days they’d spend playing in the garden, no one to force them to take a bath or eat anything other than mac and cheese. 

Peter Jefferson got colder by the day, never saying anything to Thomas or Lafayette and seeing them rarely, shut in his study, poring over something or other. Thomas, now nearing 19, barely felt his absence. He hadn’t been there much in the first place.

But then Lafayette seemed to do the same. He never talked to Thomas anymore, and when he did it was disturbing. He talked of going down to the ground someday, of mingling with the dirty people below their castle in the sky, of equality and of democracy. One day, as they had one of their increasingly rare and awkward conversations, Thomas said, “but why? Our wings make us greater! Can’t you see? The world is at our feet! We can do whatever we please! Why would you give that up?” 

He seemed to activate something in Lafayette, who stood angrily, glaring at him, words bursting out like he’d been longing to say them. “Can’t you see?” he yelled. “Can’t you see how the people suffer? How they’re killed for saying what they wish? Your father has blinded you to anyone but yourself! There is more to this world than your own happiness and comfort! How can you sleep comfortable in these silken sheets when others lie dying in the cold? Your wings are just that- wings! None of this-” he gestured around them at Thomas’s bedroom, adorned with gold and jewels and filled with expensive trinkets whose uses he hardly even remembered- “was earned! All of this was given to you! How do you not see that this is not right? Are you truly that stupide?” Thomas stared at him. He was, by all accounts, an intelligent child. He could argue for hours with his professors with the merit of this or that (not that he ever actually had; they usually acquiesced to him, using the deferential “yes, my prince” or “of course, your royal highness” and continued with the lesson as if nothing had happened) and was knowledgeable in quite a few subjects, but he couldn’t seem to think of a response. His head was spinning. What had he done to be able to enjoy all of this? Was what Lafayette said true? Were the people really suffering while he lay in the lap of luxury? 

The door banged open, and one of the few guards of the palace barged in, stopping short when he saw Thomas. “Erm,” he said. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Prince Lafayette, please come with me.” Thomas saw a hint of fear in his brother’s normally sparkling brown eyes. What are you scared of? he wanted to ask. But then he was shoved out of the room, and the door was slammed shut again, and Thomas was left to himself, surrounded by anything anyone could have ever wanted. In that moment, he hated all of it.

The day after, they put Lafayette on a plane and he never saw him again. The last thing he’d said to Thomas was “are you that stupid?”, and it rang in his ears constantly. He loathed himself. It was his fault. His fault his brother was gone, his fault people were suffering- 

Don’t believe the lies they’ll tell you.

His father opened the door. “Young man, you cannot stay in there moping. The boy has been dealt with accordingly.”

“He’s my brother!” Thomas said, suddenly outraged. “He’s- he’s not some stupid situation to be ‘dealt with accordingly’, he’s my brother and he’s done nothing wrong!” Peter shook his head condescendingly at him.

“He’s obviously been feeding you propaganda, Thomas. He’s been trying to brainwash you.” Thomas stared at him. “I’ll see you at dinner.” With that, his father turned and left. 

His father’s voice and Lafayette’s voice echoed in his head.

Are you that stupid? Don’t believe the lies they’ll tell you. Are you that stupid? Don’t believe the lies. Are you stupid? The world bows at your feet. Stupide. They tell you lies. Stupide! Lies! Are you stupid? LIES!

He covered his ears and curled into himself, but the shouting in his mind continued. Lafayette’s words had opened his eyes, shown him his life in an entirely new light. But he could be lying. What he said, what he accused his father of- it went against everything he’d ever known. Every single thing he’d been told since he was born contradicted what Lafayette said. But maybe Lafayette was right, and they’d just been hiding it from him. Maybe he was that stupid. But maybe he was lying. But maybe he was stupid. Maybe it was lies. Maybe he was stupid. Maybe-

He shook his head. It wouldn’t do to get stuck in a spiral.

He had dinner in his room, sitting alone on his bed.

I ended it there but I plan to have more chapters out soon, this is just ch. 1! pleeeeeeeeeease leave a comment, tell me what you think, i THRIVE off comments and i tend to abandon projects so any comments would be really appreciated as motivation and to feed my ravenous writer ego

i know Alex doesn’t appear in this chapter but he comes soon i promise

please let me know if you notice any errors, i don’t really edit (i should probably fix that) and tumblr messes up the formatting when i copypaste. once again any comments whatsoever are appreciated!

i am an absolute slut for winged!thomas 

[fe-husband-heaven]

Dimitri x Wife!Reader - Commission (N/SFW)

ohoho

oHOHOHO

@queenofthespacesquids has graciously commissioned Dimitri smut from me :') and has been an absolute angel during this whole mess of a pandemic!

This reader is a general female reader and the commissioner wanted to share the Dimi love so they've allowed posting here!💖💕💖

Thank you once again for commissioning me! I hope everyone else enjoys it too!

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The twelfth sigh that day fell from Dimitri's lips. Drooping shoulders accompanied the heaving huffs he gave as his horse trotted along the roads of Fhirdiad.

"We'll be arriving soon, boar. Contain yourself."

Felix travelled afoot alongside Dimitri's white steed. A frown on his face, he shot Dimitri a judgemental look.

Dimitri paid him no heed.

"Awww, c'mon Felix. Give the guy a break. He's a man separated from his lady, doesn't it break your heart?"

Sylvain rode up to the two on his own horse, sticking to Felix's left.

"The only thing it breaks is my patience. I'd understand if this was his first time away, but he does this every time."

Sylvain laughed, his swordsman friend only deepened his scowl.

"Well...They've only been married for a little while..can't imagine they've had too much time alone considering he's the freaking King."

Felix scoffed,

"Y/N's with him all the time, they're attached at the hip, it's a miracle they haven't fused together yet."

Both of them turned to face the blonde man when he gave another longing sigh at the mention of your name.

Sylvain trotted his horse closer to Dimitri, which forced Felix to move to his left. Felix gave him a "Tch." in response.

Sylvain patted Dimitri's shoulder,

"Think of it this way, I'm sure your lady was very lonely. When you get back, she'll probably want lots of-"

Felix stomped on the ground near Sylvain's horse, spooking it and causing it to rear up before it sprung forward, Sylvain, fumbling to stay on and regain control.

"That absolute fool…Don't listen to his inane..."

He trailed off when he looked back to Dimitri, who looked extremely troubled.

"..Lonely..?..My wife is..lone...ly..?"

Dimitri's expression quickly went from yearning, to worry. Felix slapped a hand to his forehead in defeat.

"Ugh, you two are absolutely impossible…"

_______________

The gates of Fhirdiad were in sight not long after that. The soldiers standing guard alerted their fellow knights about the return of the king.

Many thought that Dimitri should remain on the throne and not step foot out into danger, it was  a great risk to have the king out and about after what happened to the previous one.

But Dimitri firmly believed in being involved with the people, and seeing for himself what his people needed. The Kingdom was still recovering from the war, constant patrols were necessary.

Unfortunately, this meant that he was often forced apart from you. He would take you with him but it was not the most intelligent of ideas to have both the King and Queen away at the same time. 

He wondered...were you really lonely? He knew Dedue had stayed behind as your guard but did you miss him the same way he missed you?

He sighed again, he wanted his wife.

"We're here, boar. Quit moping."

Dimitri looked up, they were in fact in front of the gates. But he honed in on something much more important.

"Dimitri!" 

His wife.

She was waving. Smiling and waving at him from just a little bit inside the gate. He could see a couple of advisors begging her to come back inside where it was safe. 

Felix and Sylvain essentially watched a man be reborn right in front of them. Dimitri perked up and a bright glimmer found its way into his blue eye, he kept his gaze on her. He knew he was to remain cordial and in line with the rest of his troops but...his wife.

The moment he was able to, Dimitri clambered off his steed and headed straight to you. You stood, adorned in blues and whites, the colors of Fhaergus. Laughing lightly as you held your arms open for him. He did not hesitate to jump right into them and return the hug you gave him.

He squeezed tightly, and pulled back far enough to pepper a couple kisses on your face.

He remained completely unaware of the dozens of eyes watching the two of you. Many of them simply civilians who had come to witness the return of their king. They smiled at the scene, Fhirdiad was well aware of the King's love for the Queen.

This was not the first time he had arrived absolutely starved for his wife's company. The people found it soothing, King Dimitri did not seem so far out of their reach when they saw how very much like them he was. Many were quite fond of the two of you and those of older generations would have a couple "Ahh to be young again.."s when the two of you were spotted together.

Once again, a royal advisor came along to try to usher the local King and Queen back into the palace.

"Please, your majesties-" Cut off by the firm grip of a hand on their shoulder, the man who was about to plead the resident King and Queen to please for the love of the goddess head back inside, turned towards the source of the sudden looming shadow.

He came face to face with a less than pleased Dedue.

"Do not interrupt their Majesties…"

Dedue had not meant for the man to apologize and run away but...he could not help the pleased feeling that ran through him at having protected the precious time their Majesties had together. The Queen doted on him and The King never failed to remind him that he was family. He was extremely grateful, he thought it to be the least he could do.

He quite enjoyed seeing them happy.

Briefly pausing his barrage of affection, Dimitri's lips pulled down into a frown accompanied by what can only be described as puppy dog eyes.

"Were you… lonely..?"

You...weren't sure how to respond. Of course you wanted him home but were you lonely? Dedue and the others had kept you company and they made it difficult to be lonely.

Your attention was caught by a redhead casanova standing a few feet away from the two of you. He was nodding, giving you a thumbs up, and mouthing "Say yes". You then watched as Felix jabbed his elbow into his side before dragging him off by the collar, probably off to go train.

Turning back to your giant lion of a husband, he was still awaiting an answer. You don't know what possessed you to trust Sylvain but between not knowing how to respond and his look of confidence, you threw caution to the wind.

"Of course..!.Isn't it natural to miss my husband?" 

For a moment he looked even more saddened, like it was somehow his fault that you had been lonely. You smiled softly at him and laid a gentle hand on the side of his face, cupping his cheek.

"Hmm, didn't you miss me too?"

Leaning into your touch, Dimitri's frown dissipated, and a serene expression was left behind in its departure. Your hand was tenderly covered by his own as the other arm wrapped around your waist tightened just a little.

"Dearly."

Smiling at each other, it seemed as though no one else existed around you. Just a husband and wife who were reunited.

"Your majesties."

Dedue stepped forward.

Dimitri turned to look at him, keeping you in his arms as you did the same.

"Please Dedue, call me "Dimitri". You know you're family to us, Y/N and I would love nothing more than to drop formalities."

Dedue smiled tenderly, his heart warmed.

"Yes, your majesty."

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped you at the way Dimitri was rendered speechless. You doubted that Dedue would ever move past the habit, Dimitri would have to settle for having his name used in private!

Giving your husband a comforting pat, you turned your attention back to Dedue when he continued speaking.

"Your majesties, there are no matters that require your assistance urgently. Please, take this time to rest...both of you." he added.

You smiled and thanked Dedue, who with a bow, went off to the kitchens. His cuisine had grown quite popular among the people and he was often requested for cooking duty in spite of his status as Dimitri's right hand man.

Shooting Dimitri a bright grin, you wrapped your  arms around his as his hold on you loosened.

"Shall we go?"

His smile softened further, your lips parted to tease him about being handsome but before you could, a surprised yelp escaped your lips as you were suddenly pulled off of your feet and into strong toned arms.

You heard a couple whistles from onlookers as you collected yourself, Dimitri had already begun moving and walking off towards your room as if he wasn't carrying an entire human being in his arms.

You stabilized yourself by wrapping your arms around his neck, marvelling up at him briefly before laughing.

"Hmm, this is familiar!"you chirped.

Dimitri's strides slowed just a little as he focused on you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, not noticing the respectful bows of passing attendants.

He laughed lightly,

"Ahhh,yes, our wedding night, you nearly tripped on your own dress when I set you down."

You made an offended sound but felt your heart warm. Dimitri used to be nothing but proper to you, now he was comfortable teasing you.

"Yeah well, you cried when you saw me in it."

Dimitri sputtered,

"T-that is not..!..I-.."

He stopped walking, locking eyes with you as red burned on his cheeks and tips of his ears.

"That is unfair Y/N...you were beautiful.."

You smiled contently at him, sighing softly. Somehow, you had netted yourself the sweetest man on the planet. Tooth-rottingly sweet. You wondered if he knew how charming he was.

"How did I get such a precious husband again..?"

You leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. Not satisfied with a peck, Dimitri careened his neck to return the kiss. A wave of warmth ran through you as the sound of lips melding together slipped into your ear.

You pulled back just enough to murmur against his lips,

"Hurry…"

At probably the fastest speed you'd ever seen him move, Dimitri barreled through the castle halls at breakneck speed. You couldn't help but laugh at his eagerness as he neared your room. Barely getting the door open and crossing through, he was back at engulfing your lips, shifting you in his arms so you pressed against him.

Pulling away reluctantly, you patted his shoulder.

"Set me down here."

He seemed unwilling to let you go but the ever obedient husband he was, he voiced no complaints. Though he did look like he was itching to snake his arms around you again.

Locking the door, you watched with amused eyes as Dimitri's face went crimson the moment you got on your knees in front of him.

"M-my love…!.you don't have to..!.please let me-"

Dimitri moved to help you up but you simply grabbed a hold of his hands and brought them to your cheeks.

"Dimitri…" you locked eyes with him, taking in the flustered expression he wore, "You're always spoiling me...let me take care of you too…!"

There were a lot of things in life Dimitri could handle. Being king, fighting in arduous battles, even the most extraneous of labors. But seeing his wife kneeled in front of him, eager to please him in such a lewd manner was not one of them.

"Y/N...if it is what you wish…"

You frowned, you wanted him to enjoy it too…

Looking back in front of you, you were surprised by the bulge protruding from his pants. You couldn't help the cat-like grin that enveloped your lips.

Reaching out to tug at his belt, you purposefully brushed against the swell, not missing the soft intake of breath from him. You looked up and smiled cheekily at him,

"What I wish,huh…" teasing evident in your voice.

Maybe it was a little mean, but the way he buried his face in his hands as his blush travelled down his neck was well worth it. He was so cute it was almost unfair. This was most definitely not your first time doing anything intimate so to see him flustered even after all the other nights he seemingly couldn't be satiated…well, it was adorable!

You decided to give his heart a bit of a break and turned your gaze away. Working his belt and tugging his pants and undergarments just low enough for his length to slip out, you swallowed thickly as you were reminded about how well endowed your husband was…

Placing a hand on his thigh to stabilize yourself, you curled your fingers around his member and gingerly began pumping its length. Dimitri's hips lightly followed your hand as you rubbed and teased the tip. You thought you wouldn't tease him more but the slow pace you took was probably his greatest enemy right now.

"Y/N..please, this is torture.."

You laughed but indulged him. Tongue wet and warm, you gave a long drawn out lick before taking his cock in your mouth. Head beginning to bob up and down the thick throbbing length of your King, you didn't fail to notice the way Dimitri's hands clenched as he leaned against the door for support.

Struggling to maintain himself, Dimitri watched as he disappeared in and out of his beloved wife's mouth, the lips that kissed him so sweetly, wrapped around him and sucking with such rhythm and heat that he had to fight his own wanton need to buck into your mouth.

It seemed that despite how fervently he had pounded you into the mattress so often after your wedding, he would still be a blushing mess when at your mercy. But he couldn't help it. His wife, his precious wife...full of nothing but love for him..there were times where he was unsure of whether he deserved such devotion.

He knew he shouldn't doubt your decisions but he couldn't help but wonder why him. You told him often about everything you loved about him but the question lingered. What exactly had he done to be blessed with you? Perhaps it was pointless to mull it over, he couldn't let you go either way.

Still...his wife..his wife...Y/N Blaiddyd…

His length twitched in your mouth, and your pace stopped as gentle hands reached down to brush hair out of your face, tenderly caressing your cheeks. You looked up to meet loving blue eyes, Dimitri's expression was soft, and you weren't sure what insighted it. 

But it didn't matter, letting your eyelids flutter shut, you nuzzled a little into his touch before continuing. His body responded to your affection with a slow roll of his hips, and a soft breathless moan of your name.

Encouraging him to keep moving, you pulled him a little closer. His breathing was growing rapid and the wary slides into your mouth were building into broken thrusts, desperate to keep feeling the inviting heat of your tongue.

Your jaw was getting sore but the face Dimitri made as he got closer and closer to release was too great of a reward to stop. Burning the image of your King panting and losing himself to pleasure into your mind, you couldn't help but feel a little pleased with yourself. 

"..!..Y/N..!!..I'm going to-..!"

Expecting you to let him go, Dimitri was helpless against your increasing speed. Bucking into your mouth while his fingers dug into your hair, he shut his eyes tight as the ache and throbbing of his cock was finally rewarded with the white pleasure of release.

Driving him in as deep as you could, you enjoyed watching him as the rush of warm cum spurted down your throat. Making a show of swallowing, you let his member slip from your lips.

But before you could make a comment that would net you a cute blush and a stammer from the golden haired man, you were pulled up carefully and wrapped into a tight hug.

After a split second moment of surprise, you returned the hug, one hand reaching up to stroke and play with Dimitri's tousled hair. Burying his face in the curve of your neck, Dimitri murmured a soft but bashful Thank you. You would have laughed if it wasn't so sweet. 

He was still so polite…thanking you for sucking him off...heh.

"Hmm, don't thank me yet. I'm not quite done with you!" You sing-songed.

Dimitri pulled back just enough so you were facing each other, you admired the color on his cheeks. He kissed your forehead softly, 

"May I..?"

Now it was your turn to be putty in his hands, it was hard not to be when he was asking with such decorum to undress you. Your face matched his as you turned around, giving him access to the lacings and buttons on your dress.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck as he worked on freeing you from your clothes. 

You busied yourself with a mantra reminding you not to pounce on him, but that internal chant was disrupted by the sudden sound of fabric tearing, followed by something dropping on the floor, rolling to a stop in front of you. Looking down, you saw a button.

Silence filled the room and nobody moved a muscle as you stood, feeling a little colder than when you had first walked into the room.

"Dimitri."

"Y-yes..?"

"Did you rip my dress?"

He didn't respond immediately.

"...I..will acquire a new one for you…"

He knew you wouldn't chide him, but he still felt guilty. Expecting you to laugh it off, he was caught by surprise at the sudden barrage of peppered kisses on his face accompanied by you latching onto him through arms snaked around his neck.

He hugged your waist reflexively and though he was extremely happy to be at the receiving end of so much affection, he wanted to know what he had done to deserve it.

"Y/N?"

You cuddled into him, full of glee, having the dam holding you back from smothering him in as much love as you could muster, broken. 

"Dimi, you're so cute! Hnnng, why is my husband so cute??"

Dimitri was unsure of what to say but he was happy he was being complimented,

"Two seconds ago, while I was doing something sinful to you, you were absolutely gentle and careful with me but now that you try to be the same to my dress, you go and tear it!"

It was amusing, but also so endearing that you couldn't help the swell of blatant affection that had welled up in your chest. Dimitri was much too kind, handsome, adorable, strong, and intelligent all in one. You were often teased about how much your husband fawned over you, but you were very much the same.

He made you very happy and it's all you wanted for him as well.

Leaning forward, Dimitri captured your lips in a drawn out loving kiss before resting his forehead against yours.

"..Of course...I could never hurt you.."

That netted him a return kiss from you. 

Dimitri…

Being even just a little rough during sex constituted as hurting you to him. He knew you weren't helpless, and you could very much handle yourself, but he couldn't help but treat you like you were fragile. He always believed you had to protect the things you love. 

Boy, he really took the priest's "to love and cherish till death do you part" seriously…

"My apologies for tearing your dress..I'll replace it, I promise."

And the sweet man was still concerned over something so trivial...You reaaaaaally loved your husband.

You pecked his lips before leaning forward to purr in his ear,

"It's okay. I like it when you tear my clothes off."

It was not but a split second after that you were carried off to your bed, the sound of fabric being torn off your body, music to your ears as an impish grin rested on your lips. With his immense strength, it was an easy task.

The chill from the sudden lack of coverage was ignored as you relished in your riled husband fumbling to take off his armor. When the plates of steel had hit the floor, Dimitri was quick to sink the bed with his weight and hover over you.

"W-would you like me to do the same..?"

Even when he was eager, he was polite.

As sure as you were that he was skilled with his tongue, you had no more patience left to spare.

Shaking your head, you pulled him down so you could let your lips meet, murmuring against them,

"No...I don't want to wait anymore...I just want you, Dimitri."

Making a sound that was strangled by the way he smothered your mouth with his, you felt the hardened tip of his cock align with your entrance, ready to slip into you.

"I-it's wet..." Dimitri noted against your lips.

For as much teasing as you had given him earlier, you were certainly getting your dues at how torturously slow he was sliding into you.

You knew you couldn't rush it but feeling every inch of Dimitri's length filling your core and being unable to have him just pound you into the mattress..it was unfair.

Feeling Dimitri's hips meet yours, you were relieved that you didn't have to wait much longer. The kisses that Dimitri was making to your neck were growing to be too much when coupled with the feverish groping of your chest.

Filled with him, your hips moved on their own and rolled up onto his cock, wanting for him to move. 

The slippery inviting heat of his wife's insides mixed with his wife's needy hips spurred Dimitri into slow drawn out thrusts. Thrusts much too leisurely for you.

"Dimitri..faster..please.."

Maybe it was the way you breathed it out next to his ear or the fact that he was always quite obedient in bed but Dimitri did as he was asked.

Building up to a strong steady pace of deep rams of his cock into you, Dimitri wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you close and in place as he slammed himself in and out of you.

Finally being given what you wanted, your legs wrapped around him as little cries of his name escaped your lips. It had been much too long since the last time you'd done this.

"I-..missed you..!"

You panted out, digging your fingers into his hair as your stomach burned from the pleasure.

Dimitri hugged you tighter against him, almost in comfort and agreeance. It was all he could do, he couldn't trust his mouth to form any words at the moment.

He had missed you so dearly, he did every time he had to leave you behind or when you left his side. He loved you more than anything else in the world and it pained him to think you might've felt lonely all on your own. 

He was always elated upon his return to find you smiling and welcoming him back, he found comfort in having a home to return to and being able to do the same for you whenever you travelled to neighboring territories to maintain peaceful relations.

Every time you parted, he felt a piece of him was missing. The nights he spent away from you, wondering what you were doing and whether you were faring well, were torturous. Quiet nights, missing you and your company would lead to the shameful pumps of his cock into his own hand, imagining it to be his wife's heat he was plunging into.

He missed you, this, everything.

Maybe it was unbecoming of him, the King of Fhaergus, to love sex with his wife so much but the mutual wanton need to be together and be one was much too enticing to him. Being as close as he could be to the person he vowed to share his life with..it was precious to him, and he was sure you were the same.

"I..!.love you, Y/N-"

Garbled words in between frenzied thrusts somehow still clutched at your heart. You're not sure why, maybe it was just hitting you how much you truly missed him but your eyesight blurred with sudden tears.

Maybe it was just Dimitri. So full of love and so willing to offer it to you despite him sometimes wondering whether he deserved yours. You just wanted to seal away all those worries.

"Dimitri-..!..Dimitri..!!..I love you-..!.I love you, I love-"

Your cries of his name and declarations of love were muffled by desperate lips melding with yours, tongues slipping against each other as the bed creaked with each jut of his hips. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin and the wet squelch of you clenching around him burned into your ears.

Hips bucking up wildly, the building white heat that pooled in your stomach finally spilled over the edge as you shook and trembled against him, vision blurring momentarily. All at the same time as your husband's erratic thrusts grew jerky before you felt the hot spill of his seed inside you.

Panting and settling against each other, you ran shaky fingers through Dimitri's hair, smoothing away any strands plastered to his forehead.

Ignoring the wet feeling of cum slipping down the curve of your ass.

You sighed contently as your breathing evened out, a feeling of serenity taking its place. Your husband peacefully rested against your chest, eyelids fluttered shut as he let you caress his face and play with his hair.

The two of you stayed quiet for a long time, just basking in the afterglow of your affection. Dimitri silently relished in his wife's gentle tender hand, enjoying the coolness of your wedding ring when it touched his skin.

He listened to the calming beating of your heart, the same heart that was so open and devoted to him. The same heart that loved him back with as much fervor as his own. The heart that his beloved wife promised belonged to him, just as he had promised his to her.

"..Dimitri..?"

He moved slightly, indicating he was listening. 

"..Welcome back."

Shifting, he faced you, joining your mouths in a soft sweet kiss.

"I'm home."

[moderndeadpoetssociety]

hi! my favourite poem is Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray, it’s sort of a long poem though

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,         The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way,         And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimm'ring landscape on the sight,         And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,         And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds; Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tow'r         The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such, as wand'ring near her secret bow'r,         Molest her ancient solitary reign. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade,         Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,         The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,         The swallow twitt'ring from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,         No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,         Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return,         Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,         Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their team afield!         How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,         Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile         The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r,         And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits alike th' inevitable hour.         The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault,         If Mem'ry o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where thro' the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault         The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. Can storied urn or animated bust         Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust,         Or Flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of Death? Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid         Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd,         Or wak'd to ecstasy the living lyre. But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page         Rich with the spoils of time did ne'er unroll; Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage,         And froze the genial current of the soul. Full many a gem of purest ray serene,         The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear: Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen,         And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast         The little tyrant of his fields withstood; Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest,         Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. Th' applause of list'ning senates to command,         The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,         And read their hist'ry in a nation's eyes, Their lot forbade: nor circumscrib'd alone         Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin'd; Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne,         And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide,         To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride         With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,         Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life         They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. Yet ev'n these bones from insult to protect,         Some frail memorial still erected nigh, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd,         Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd muse,         The place of fame and elegy supply: And many a holy text around she strews,         That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who to dumb Forgetfulness a prey,         This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,         Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look behind? On some fond breast the parting soul relies,         Some pious drops the closing eye requires; Ev'n from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,         Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires. For thee, who mindful of th' unhonour'd Dead         Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led,         Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say,         "Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away         To meet the sun upon the upland lawn. "There at the foot of yonder nodding beech         That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch,         And pore upon the brook that babbles by. "Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn,         Mutt'ring his wayward fancies he would rove, Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,         Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. "One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill,         Along the heath and near his fav'rite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill,         Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; "The next with dirges due in sad array         Slow thro' the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay,         Grav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn." THE EPITAPH Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth       A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown. Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth,       And Melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,       Heav'n did a recompense as largely send: He gave to Mis'ry all he had, a tear,       He gain'd from Heav'n ('twas all he wish'd) a friend. No farther seek his merits to disclose,       Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose)       The bosom of his Father and his God.

[ladylouoflothlorien]

Heal My Heart

anonymous asked:

I see you have requests open! I'd love to see something with Dwalin awkwardly courting a sweet little hobbit healer reader who also takes no shit.... is that too specific? I just need more Dwalin content! ~cassiabaggins Ok so, I swear to god are requests supposed to be this long when you write them ^^;;;? I guess when I did the other request I got for Dwalin before and I said “any excuse to write for Dwalin” I really meant it. I’ll tag you just to make sure you see it! @cassiabaggins SO HERE YOU GO: Heal My Heart Dwalin x Female!Hobbit!Reader Words: 3676

“Tea’s at 4.” Bilbo had said. “Don’t bother knocking.”

Well there he was outside of Bag End at precisely 4pm – he’d timed his arrival perfectly.

Dwalin had been looking forward to his visit to the Burglar of Bag End for many months. He’d spent one winter in Erebor after the reclamation and, as much as it pained him to admit it, it was not the home he once remembered. There were too many ghosts in the stone walls for him, not least the death of his great friend and King who he hadn’t been able to save. Dain had graciously offered him a decorated position in the Royal Guard, and though Dwalin truly appreciated the offer, he’d declined. He had his share of the treasure, so there was no need for him to work. Apart from that, he knew deep down that no King would ever hold his loyalty in the same way that Thorin had, and how could he dedicate his life to protect a King he cared little for when he’d already done that for a King he did care about and had failed. Not long into that cold winter, he’d began entertaining thoughts of following Bilbo back to The Shire, if only for a change of scene. He needed to get away from that mountain mausoleum.

It surprised him just how much he longed for soft grass and rolling hills, perhaps because it was the exact opposite of the things that reminded him of his pain. Balin had been the one to convince him to wait until the winter was over before heading out, especially as he intended to undertake the journey alone. Azog might be dead, but the roads were still far from safe. The snow had come, and stayed for months, but as soon as it had melted Dwalin was ready to leave. He’d completed all his preparations weeks before.

Bag End was exactly like he remembered, although the mark Gandalf had placed on the door was gone. The Shire itself didn’t seem any different, though he’d hardly gotten a good look at it the first time he’d been there, considering he’d arrived under the cover of darkness. He stood in Bilbo’s front garden, stalling, for now he had finally arrived at his destination he felt a strange hesitancy to complete his journey. That, and he was still debating as to whether or not he should actually knock, or simply walk in. Which would be more of a surprise? After a short internal debate, he decided to heed the Hobbit’s advice, and he pushed the door open without knocking.

When Dwalin stepped into the Smial he was suddenly transported back over a year before, remembering how he felt setting off on such a mighty quest. Had he known quite how it would end, he most likely would have done everything in his power to prevent it from happening, for what was a Mountain Throne without a King to sit in it? The tall dwarf was pulled from his moping by the sound of voices. The first, Bilbo’s, but the second he did not recognise. Intrigued, he walked towards the voices and found himself hovering outside Bilbo’s Kitchen.

“Bilbo really, this is the absolute last time I stitch you up because you slept with that silly knife in the bed.”

Dwalin heard the tell-tale sound of Bilbo sniffing, and just knew he was wrinkling his nose. Beorn’s nickname for Bilbo had been rather accurate, hadn’t it?

“It is not a ‘silly’ knife. Its name is Sting, and it’s my sword.”

“Sword or no sword, it does not belong under the covers Bilbo Baggins!”

Bilbo being scolded? Now that Dwalin had to see. Quite as a mouse – or at least a mouse that was close to 5ft of solid muscle – he moved his body so he could peek around the open arch-way that led into the kitchen. As silent as he’d been up until that point, the sight of Bilbo sitting on his kitchen bench – blushing – as a sweet female hobbit tenderly examined his arm, made him forget himself.

“By Mahal buglar, ye’ never told us ye’d found yerself a wife!”

---

As it turned out, Bilbo had not found himself a wife, thank you very much Mister Dwalin. The Hobbit had been blushing because he’d been embarrassed, as it was not the first or even the second time he’d needed patching up after cutting himself on his on sword whilst he slept. Dwalin understood the underlying meaning behind the injuries; the Hobbit had been sleeping with his sword because he felt unsafe somehow. Dwalin didn’t need to be as smart as his brother to work out why that might be.

If he’d needed an excuse to stay in The Shire, he could’ve used the excuse of staying to help Bilbo feel safe, but as it turned out Bilbo was more than eager to have his friend stay at Bag End for an extended period of time.

“Now you’re here you surely won’t be off again in a hurry, Dwalin! I’ll have the guest room ready for you in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

Dwalin hadn’t been quite sure how lambs’ tails came into anything, but he wasn’t going to question an invitation to stay, not now he had yet another reason for wanting to remain in The Shire for the foreseeable future. By Durin’s beard if she wasn’t the most beautiful creature he’d ever beheld, beardless face and all. Having found out that she was not in fact Bilbo’s wife, but rather his cousin – once removed on his father’s side, and thrice on his mother’s – and The Shire’s most knowledgeable healer, he’d felt a sense of relief he could compare with none he had ever felt.

It had taken Dwalin all of 10 minutes to realise that she was his One, and he was not at all disappointed that she was a Hobbit, though he realised that Hobbits did not love in quite the same way as Dwarves did and he knew he would have to properly win her affections. He felt up to the challenge, though the very thought of courting her made him jittery all over. Still, if he could face down a pack of warg-riding orcs with less than a handful of fear then surely he could face this new challenge head on.

---

The day you met Dwalin had started out no more remarkable than any other day, but it had not ended so. You’d been rather exasperated to find that, upon your visit to one of your more cherished family members for afternoon tea, you had yet another injury to tend to. You were growing rather concerned for your cousin Bilbo, though it came out of you as exasperation. So far he had only given himself gashes – rather nasty gashes, but gashes all the same – but you knew that sleeping with a sharp object could never bring anything but harm. How long would it be before he gave himself an injury that would be much more difficult to fix, and more difficult to heal from?

You’d barely finished the business of stitching up his latest cut when a third party had made itself known in Bag End, and by the Lady you were glad he hadn’t shown up before or else you might not have had the presence of mind to complete the stitches properly. You didn’t think you’d ever seen anyone quite so attractive in your entire life. You felt certain that his biceps were larger than your head, and oh sweet Yavanna, he really did tower over you, being a respectable 3ft and 6 inches yourself. You finally understood why the Lady had taken Aulë as her husband. It seemed a very wise decision if he looked anything at all like the beings he’d created.

You were rather busy for a week after the Dwarf, Dwalin, had arrived, but after that time you began to find more and more excuses to visit Bag End. Your cousin, who seemed to see right through you to the real reason of your visits, also began to invite you to dine with him more regularly than before.

A week more, and strange things began to happen. A strong wind had blown a tree down, which had in turn damaged the fencing in the front garden of your own Smial. You’d mentioned this in passing whilst eating dinner at Bag End one night, as you hadn’t yet had a chance to get it fixed. Then the next morning as you left your Smial to go and collect healing herbs, you found none other than Dwalin himself in your front garden. The tree that had fallen was no more, having already been chopped up – by one of Dwalin’s axes, you assumed – and the logs piled neatly. The gruff dwarf was already going about the business of mending the broken fence when you greeted him. Naturally, you thanked him profusely and asked him what he wanted in return. He’d seemed about to say something, but a wonderfully pink colour had spread across his cheeks, partly hidden by his facial hair, and he’d clammed up. He’d quietly grumbled something about not expecting anything in return, and that it was the least he could do for any cousin of Bilbo’s, and so you’d thanked him once again and gone on your way feely very grateful but also thoroughly confused.

The second incident occurred two days after the first. At about midday you’d gotten a knock on the door, and when you opened it you’d been surprised to see Dwalin once again at your front door …. holding a brace of rabbits. He held them towards you, and you’d taken them, for there seemed nothing else to do.

“A-are these for me, Mister Dwalin?” You’d asked, and he’d nodded to confirm it, but had said no more.

You floundered a little at that, having never been gifted meat before, but you’d stepped to the side slightly and asked him inside. You supposed the least you could do would be to offer him some refreshment – it was time for lunch after all. Dwalin had once again gone that rather delicious red shade and had muttered something about ‘not wanting to impose’ so quietly that you almost missed it. He’d bowed a little then, and hurried away, and you were left feeling as confused as you’d felt at the conclusion of your last meeting, although this time the confusion was tinged with disappointment. You’d rather wanted to spend some private time with the gorgeous Dwarf, but he didn’t seem interested at all. His kindness towards you was rather frustrating if that was all it truly was.

After a few more similar happenings, you finally snapped. You’d waited until you knew Dwalin would be away from Bag End – several Hobbits had been employing him to do menial tasks they were not strong enough to do themselves – and when the coast was clear you snuck in to have a private word with your cousin.

“And that’s not all, Bilbo!” Your hands tugged at your hair in frustration as you paced the floor of his study, whilst Bilbo himself remained seated calmly in his chair.

“First it was the fence, and then the rabbits, but he’s also given me furs ‘in case next winter is too harsh for ye’ lass’..” You paused to glare at Bilbo as he laughed at your poor imitation of the dwarf’s accent.

“Yes yes, well you laugh, but he’s also given me a brand new dagger to make it easier for me to collect herbs. It looks like he made it himself Bilbo! No-one around here would either make or own a knife with dwarvish runes carved into it!”

At that Bilbo sat up a little, suddenly alert. All the gifts Dwalin had been giving you, and the order, seemed to be ringing a bell in his mind, he just couldn’t quite remember why.

“Now, don’t you worry. I’ve been writing letters to his brother Balin, you see.” He picked up a piece of paper from his desk and held it aloft.

“It’s my turn to write, and write I shall. I will ask Balin if there is any greater meaning behind this, and when the raven brings his reply we shall know all, if there is anything to be known.”

---

Another fortnight of you enduring an adorably blushing, extremely helpful, frustratingly unwilling-to-explain-his-actions dwarf and Balin’s letter finally arrived.

Dear Bilbo,

As always it was very nice to receive your letter, but I won’t waste your time with needless chatter, as I am sure you will be eager to hear what I have to tell you next.

It would seem that my brother Dwalin has forgotten the first rule of Dwarven courting, which is tell the person that they are being courted, for though he is as stone-headed and iron-fisted as our father could have ever wished for, he is sensitive in his own way.

As you have no doubt deduced from that previous statement, it would appear that my brother is trying to court your cousin. Dwarrow do not go about sharing the details of our rituals and habits, but it is necessary in this case, and though you are a thief I know you to be an honest one, my friend, so I know I can count on you not to spread this information further than is needed.

Our courting is about showing your intended that you can take care of them, provide for them, keep them safe and protected. From what you say Dwalin has been doing, it seems he has covered these steps and is moving on to the next. The dagger you could say is a gift with the purpose of protecting her when he cannot do so himself, even if he has used the herb-gathering as a cover story. I would not be surprised if he soon gives her something more expensive – there should be at least one gift given to enhance something about her that he finds beautiful.

Do write again Bilbo, if all goes well I hope I shall soon be able to call you family in more than just combat!

Yours,

Balin.

“Well.” Bilbo said to himself as he leaned back in his chair, bringing his pipe to his lips. “Well, isn’t that something?”

---

You sat in your front room, twisting your skirt between your fingers anxiously. You’d heard about Balin’s letter from Bilbo, and now whenever you weren’t busy you were anxiously waiting for Dwalin to come around with his next gift. You hadn’t seen him for a few days, and you could only assume that the next time he came, it would be with the ‘expensive gift’ Balin’s letter had mentioned. Your stomach was twisted in many, many knots, for you knew that you had to get Dwalin to admit that he was courting you – your heart could only take so much, and though Balin’s letter had done much to confirm your own sneaking suspicions, you couldn’t get the nagging voice of doubt to shut up. Besides, Balin’s letter had said it was only right and proper that Dwalin actually let you know that he was trying to court you.

Then it came, that knock at you front door, and you practically jumped a foot out of your chair at the sound. You took a deep breath to steady yourself before going to open it, and were rather disappointed to see that it wasn’t in fact Dwalin, but a rather frantic looking Hobbit that you didn’t know that well. As it turned out, their husband had come down with a fever, and before you knew it you were rushing off to treat them, your worries about Dwalin temporarily forgotten.

By the time you got back to your Smial, it was dusk, and you were exhausted. You almost didn’t notice Dwalin sitting on the bench in your front garden, patiently waiting for you to return with a box in his hands.

“O-oh, hello Mister Dwalin!” You stammered out, and felt rather put-out that you hadn’t had any alone time to prepare yourself for meeting him.

“Good evening, lass.”

As always he was rather quiet when addressing you, seemingly unable to look you in the eye for more than a second in total. He shuffled where he stood a little, and then held the box out to you, telling you to take it without using his words. You steeled yourself before replying, pushing your shoulders back in an attempt to physically force confidence into your small body.

“I… Dwalin I…” You took a deep breath and tried again.

“Dwalin I cannot take this, I-”  

You’d been ready to continue, to explain everything, but Dwalin’s face visibly fell so dramatically that it caught you off guard and your words escaped you. His whole body seemed to deflate and sag until he was almost your height, and you swore you could see his hands tremble slightly around the box they were still holding.

“O-of course lass..” He began, his voice trailing off until it sounded more like he was grumbling at himself than really responding to her.

“Don’t know wha’ I was thinking… ugly brute like me… of course ye’ wouldn’t…”

You were so stunned by the things he was muttering about himself that you couldn’t do anything, and only when he turned to leave did you finally regain control of yourself. You reached out your hand and held his arm to keep him where he was, and he stilled, though you did not doubt he could break out of your hold in an instant If he chose to. He looked at you, his face a heart-breaking picture of self-doubt, confusion, and a small amount of hope.

“M-mister Dwalin.. that is to say..” You could feel your own face growing red as you tried to force out the words you’d so carefully prepared by yourself, in front of your mirror.

“I-I will gladly accept it… but isn’t there something you need to say to me? That is.. I.. Balin’s letter said…” You trailed off, your embarrassment and anxiety having risen to no-doubt dangerous levels.  

Dwalin on the other hand finally seemed to have regained the ability to speak at a normal volume around you.

“Ye’ had a letter from my brother Balin, lass?” He asked, utterly confounded by the idea, for how would his brother even know to send you a letter? You shook your head quickly.

“N-no.. his letter to Bilbo!” As you continued to speak, you voice got quieter and quieter until Dwalin had to strain to hear the words.

“He said.. that dwarven courting … needs to be… told plainly.. I mean..” You swallowed, once again consumed by the thought that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t actually been trying to court you at all and this was all some cruel trick.

The truth of the situation finally dawned on the old warrior.

“Oh Mahal.. lass I’m such a fool…” He groaned, and finally all the words he’d been yearning to say but hadn’t had the courage to came spilling out like a flood from a burst dam.

“I wanted to tell ye’ really I did… but I couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come. I should’ve stopped then lass, but I did not have the strength …”

You let out a shaky, but relieved breath, and let go of his arm in favour of gently taking his – much larger – hands with your own, curling slim fingers over thick fingers where they still grasped the box.

“Dwalin. One question, just ask it.”

You could visibly see him swallow, buying himself time to gather his courage.

“Will ye’ let me court ye’, lass?”

“Yes, yes Dwalin I think I will.”

You laughed out loud, euphoria filling your small frame, and you flung yourself against Dwalin. Your arms found his broad shoulders and thanks to his warrior’s reflexes he managed to catch you with one hand, still holding the box with the other, all the while not even realising what had happened. Before he had time to process that you were in his arms – well, arm – you kissed him, and when his brain finally caught up with reality, he kissed you back as well.

---

Several months later, you lay sprawled out on your marriage bed, feeling practically weightless. Dwalin lay beside you, on his side with one arm resting over your stomach.

“Did ye’ enjoy that lass?” He asked, a teasing note in his tone as he looked at you, though there was an undercurrent of insecurity. He still didn’t quite know how an old, battle-scarred dwarf like him had managed to wed a sweet wee hobbit like yourself.

You turned your head slowly to look at him, your eyebrows raised almost to your hairline.

“Dwalin love, are you kidding? That was incredible.” You smiled softly at him and reached out a hand to stroke his cheek, and when your fingers lightly brushed over his facial hair he groaned a little and pressed into the touch.

“Oh? Dear husband, would you like to go again?”

His eyes snapped open in surprise. Of course he would very much like to, but he’d imagined that you would probably want to sleep after the first, as the wedding had been a long and – though very happy – rather tiring.

“A-again?” He choked out, and your smile turned mischievous.

“Oh yes, I think so.”

You pushed your hand against his shoulder and watched with satisfaction as he rolled onto his back, though you knew he could easily resist if he wanted to. You swung one leg over his thick waist and settled yourself above him, and he thought he might go blind to see such a vision above him.

“This time, however, I think you should lie back my dear, and let me take care of you.”

“Oh Mahal.”

Dwalin realised then that he would get little sleep that night, but as your form shifted over his, he realised that he did not care.

The End.

Forever Tags: @sweeticedtea @cd1242 @strongandfreedc @pixierox101 @jotink78 @luna-xial @underthemoon-imagines

[passable-talent]

Ok ok ok something new... a zuko and maybe azula story about the reader, who is a servant at the palace, who tries her best to fill ursa’s shoes after she’s banished. They feel bad for the kids and they do everything they can as a servant to become a parent/older sibling figure of sorts. Little scenarios of a sleep deprived, crackhead energy fueled teenager looking after two unpredictable children sounds downright hilarious to me 😂. You can make this as fluffy or as angsty as you want!

• • •

Mostly, things were okay after Lady Ursa left.

‘Okay’ was a general term, as two children had just lost their mother. It was very hard, on the staff who loved her, and on the Fire Nation as a whole, but mostly it was hard for her two children. After all, Prince Zuko was only eleven, and Princess Azula only nine.

You had been one of Lady Ursa’s most trusted servants, similar to a Lady in Waiting. You were reassigned, after her disappearance, to look more closely after the young prince and princess. Not as a primary caregiver, of course, but to attend them similarly to how you once had the fire lady.

You took the opportunity happily, and intended to do your best for them. They’d lost their mother, and of course you had no intention to replace her, but you knew that they still needed the support from a more gentle figure than their father.

• • •

“Princess Azula!” You called, running after her down the halls. “You know that your father doesn’t appreciate your running inside the palace!” Azula looked over her shoulder as she ran, giggling. She knew it was against the rules, but found it fun anyway. “We have a courtyard, I’d be happy to invite Ty Lee or Mai to play with you!” Azula stopped and turned to you, her head cocked forward with the sassiness of a confident young girl.

“They’re not as fun, Y/N, as it is to make you chase me.” You sighed as you caught up to her and caught your breath, offering her a smile. She and her brother both got too much scolding and frowning from her father, and you wouldn’t be a source of it as well.

“I’m glad you enjoy my company for something,” you said, and she took off down the hall again with a bright smile.

• • •

Princess Azula seemed less affected by the loss of her mother than Prince Zuko, who took it quite hard. For days he moped around, attending to his training and schooling with silence and focus that allowed for no fun, or smiles. You couldn’t blame him, but your heart broke for him.

“Prince Zuko,” you said softly as you entered the doorway of his bedchamber, “Mai and Ty Lee have come to play with Azula in the courtyard. Perhaps you would like to join them?” You wanted to give him every oppurtunity to reach out to you, to find comfort in you, because that’s what he deserved and needed to get through this. But he just sat on his bed and held the knife his uncle had sent him.

“No thanks,” he said, and slowly you took steps into the bedroom, knowing that he could order you to leave at any time.

“My prince,” you said gently, trying to be as kind and nonthreatening as you could, “I think it would be very beneficial if you spent time with your sister. Your father has been very busy, but she’s right here, and you can still have fun with her and her friends.” He looked away from you, not that he’d been looking toward you in the first place.

“Another time, Y/N,” he said, and you nodded, leaving him alone.

Your heart broke for him- he was such a sweet boy, and didn’t deserve to have his mother taken from him this early.

• • •

“Y/N!” Azula shouted, running across the courtyard from the turtle duck pond, “Zuko hit one of the turtle ducks!”

“I did not!” Zuko yelled before you could even look up. Deep down inside, you groaned- this was going to be a fun little discussion.

“Did too!” Azula shouted back, and you stepped in between the two. You look away from them for one second while they’re seated side by side at the pond, and all hell breaks loose.

Because Agni likes to laugh at you.

“Prince, Princess, we’re going to take turns. Princess Azula, what did you say happened?” You heard Zuko huff at not being asked first, but you were more worried about what would have happened if Azula had been slighted in the same way.

“He threw a big piece of bread right at it,” she said, with authority in her tone. You turned to Zuko, who seemed to be fuming.

“She’s lying!” He said, and you fixed him with a long-suffering expression.

“Prince Zuko, what do you think happened?” Upon being asked to share, he did look aside with a bit of shame.

“I didn’t mean to hit it, I just wanted to give it the bread.”

“There, see?” You said, smiling as you took a step from the two of them. “It was an accident. But Prince Zuko, do remember to feed them smaller pieces, and then this wouldn’t happen. We’ve talked about this, remember?” He nodded and sulked away, moving away from the pond, fearful that he’d get bitten if he got too close.

• • •

General Iroh had invited you for tea on one of your days off, and you gladly took the time to sit and converse with him. He was the most wise individual you’d ever met, and valued his opinion on almost anything.

“I think you’re very noble,” he said, taking a sip, “to do what you’ve done for these past years.” You raised the cup to your lips with a tilt of your head.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve noticed how you look after the prince and princess. I think it has helped them recover from their mother’s disappearance, and I’m glad that you could be there for them.” You smiled as you tasted the tea again.

“Thank you, General,” you said, and you set down the cup for a moment. “Though, to be honest, I’m not sure how much of a difference it’s made. I think that once her mother disappeared, Princess Azula was set on a very harmful path. She’s so gifted, and talented, but she seems...” you trailed off, and shook your head. “I shouldn’t speak of my princess like so.” Iroh smiled at you and nudged your cup back toward you.

“All you can hope to be is a guiding force, Y/N. And you are being an exceptional role model. The prince and princess are lucky to have you.”

• • •

The Fire Lord rarely made appearances before the general public, but today was Princess Azula’s birthday, and so there was to be a brief speech about her skills and talent as an heir to the throne. You knew that as Fire Lord Ozai’s favorite, his praise would be honest, even if focused in some of the wrong areas.

She was to wear a formal robe, and have her hair done. You allowed some of her Ladies in Waiting to dress her, but you wanted to do her hair yourself. You waited in the spa for her to return with her robe adorned, and you smiled when she entered.

“You look beautiful,” you told the young princess, and her expression didn’t change as she walked to a chair seated in front of you.

You styled her hair gently, years of practice keeping you from ever tugging it, even accidentally. She had beautiful, thick hair, and you pulled it back into a top knot to rest the headpiece of the crowned princess within. Gently you pulled two locks out on either side of her forehead to frame her face, just as Lady Ursa had always done.

“There you go,” you said with a smile, “all ready. You’ll have boys all over the fire nation falling for you.” A scowl deepened on her face, and you grew concerned.

“What’s the matter, Princess?”

“You’re not my mom, stop trying to act like it.” With that she stood and marched to where her palanquin was waiting.

You merely stared after her, and hoped that she wouldn’t always harbor such anger.

• • •

“I just can’t do it!” Prince Zuko shouted, having stumbled once again during a firebending form that involved a kick. He dropped to the ground and pouted. “I’ll never be as good as Azula.” You closed the book you had been reading in the grass and turned your attention to him, shaking your head.

“You know, I remember when she said the same about you.” His gaze came up to yours, and you nodded.

“Yes, it’s true,” you said, “when you began your firebending training, and she hadn’t yet presented as a bender. She was quite jealous of you.” He turned his head to the side and began picking at the grass.

“That doesn’t matter,” he said, and you shrugged.

“Maybe. But things change, my prince. You’ll learn, because you have passion, and perseverance. She’s a strong bender, sure, but you have that strength too. You’ve just got to find it, somewhere inside you.” You paused, and narrowed your eyes playfully. “It’s probably right underneath your belly button.” The comment was odd enough to make him laugh, and you were happy that you had brought a smile back to his face.

If you could keep doing that forever, then maybe these kids would turn out okay.

• • •

-🦌 Roe

[wylanvnneck]

Rating: G for Giganotosaurus

Summary: Based on a TFOTA headcanon which I posted on Tumblr about Cardan and Jude visiting the Mortal world and Cardan getting introduced to pick-up lines. That he uses. Frequently. Which, of course completely irritates Jude.

Originally posted on AO3 | Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Chapter 2

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning Jude wakes to the late morning sunlight streaming through the window onto the bed where Cardan still slept. Quietly, so as not to disturb him, she untangles herself from his grasp and heads to the bathroom to freshen up, having fallen asleep in her traveling clothes from earlier in the morning.

Cardan is sitting up with a lazy grin curving his lips when she comes back, his eyes trained on her.

“Good morning, wife.”

“Husband,” she returns.

He looks around the room in the daylight and his expression turns thoughtful, dark eyes deepening. “Did you...think of me when you were here?” He asks her, sounding uncharacteristically cautious

She looks straight at his face, remembering the pain she’d been in during her first days here, all those months ago. She’d spent her first few days in exile moping around and not thinking about her treacherous husband. With a little help from Vivi and many tubs of mint and chocolate chip ice cream she’d finally gotten out of her pajamas and returned to her training routines, all the more vicious as she thought up ways to get her revenge on the High King of Faerie.

“I did. I used to stay up late into the night with Vivi once Oak was asleep and we would plot ways to kill you.”

Cardan smiles a wry smile at her admission, “I’d expect nothing less from you, my sweet nemesis.”

“I know you thought of me, you’ve told me about your letters.” Letters that she would never get to see, thanks to Lady Asha.

He shifts in the bed, tail swishing in the air. “I did. I thought of you incessantly. My anger at you over Balekin didn’t last long and soon I found myself wondering why you hadn’t returned yet. I worried that you’d found the Mortal world more pleasurable than Elfhame. That you preferred your life here. In my darkest moments I’d imagine you with another. I’d imagine never seeing you again.”

His voice is racked with pain and sincerity, the anguish he’d felt written clearly on his features. “So many times, I thought of coming here. To see you, even if just from a distance. But I couldn’t leave our Kingdom, I couldn’t forsake the duties you’d entrusted  me with when you crowned me, even if you were meant to be by my side always. That throne that you’d worked so hard to save, I couldn’t risk leaving it when the threat of Madoc loomed so near. Jude, believe me when I say that my thoughts were always, always of you, my brave villain.”

His confession touches her very soul. She takes in the sight of him, broken and exposed and her heart quickens. The High King of Elfhame, her husband, who would only ever be this open and unguarded in front of her, his queen. She comes closer to him on the bed and bends down, stroking his messy black curls away from his face as she gently lowers her lips to his.

* * *

They’ve arrived on a Saturday so Oak is scarfing down a bowl of sugary cereal when she and Cardan enter the kitchen. He looks up with excitement and rushes to give his sister a bear hug, squeezing her as tightly as his 8 year old hands can. “Jude you’re finally here, I missed you!”

She playfully ruffles his nut brown hair and squeezes him back, pulling away to give him a once over, “I missed you too, Oak.”

He goes to hug Cardan while Jude finally spots Heather, Vivi’s pink-haired girlfriend who was currently by the kitchen table, making her way over to say Hi. “Good to see you again, Jude. Vivi’s just popped off to grab some groceries. Hopefully she uses actual money this time,” she rolls her eyes, smiling.

“Nice to see you too, Heather,” Jude smiles in response.

Once they’re all sat around the dining room table and Cardan and Jude are equipped with their own bowls of cereal, the multi-coloured loops of which had captured Cardan’s initial fascination and Jude now watches out of the corner of her eye as he sits stirring his breakfast, entranced, as the colours slowly bleed into the milk, turning it slightly muddy. She finds him quite adorable with that expression on his face. Maybe even charming. Not that she’d ever say it out loud.

She tunes in to what Heather is saying at the moment, “So, what do you guys wanna do today?” She looks expectantly at them and Jude tries to think of an answer but is thankfully interrupted by her brother.

“Ooh ooh, can we go to the mall today? And have pizza for lunch?” he jumps in his seat.

“Tell me, what is a ‘maul’? And what type of a food is this, ‘Pizza’?” Cardan interjects. Oak slowly turns to him with a look of horror on his face.

“You’ve never had pizza??” He turns to Heather, “We have to have pizza, Heather, we have to.” He faces Cardan once again and starts telling him all about pizza and all the different toppings and which combos worked and which didn’t and how eating pineapple on pizza was an unforgivable sin.

Heather laughs a little as she looks at Jude, “Well, I guess we’re having pizza today.”

“I guess we are,” Jude laughs back, watching her little brother excitedly explaining mortal customs to her husband.

They head out to the nearest shopping mall once Vivi’s back and they travel by bus which leads to another shock for Cardan who is in awe at the fact that this metal box was able to move on it’s own. Truly, mortals did have some funny ideas, he’d remarked, astonished.

His eyes are locked on the view outside the whole time, taking in the concrete and cement, in stark contrast to the raw natural surroundings of Faerie.  He is dressed in better fitting mortal clothes than last night which Vivi had gotten for him. A dark shirt and dark fitted jeans, with space for him to tuck his tail in. He glamours his face to appear more mortal, with rounded ears, accentuated by his usual gold studs and he is still inordinately attractive for a mortal and Jude knows he’ll be receiving lots of stares. Especially appreciative ones from girls. She is suddenly conscious of her concealed dagger.

Once they arrive Oak immediately drags them to the gaming zone, introducing Cardan to the wonders of playstations. He teaches  them how to play Mario Kart and the little character on the screen whose movements you could control was indeed, quite entertaining.

He is less enthusiastic when Heather and Vivi drag them to Sephora, the makeup store. Nevertheless, he tries his hardest to stay still and is justly rewarded with an achingly sweet candy floss that he graciously shares with everyone.

Cardan, for his part, is not only entranced by the fluffy pink treat but also by the cosmetics surrounding him, letting Heather draw Kohl on him with liquid black eyeliner and applying shiny silver highlighter on his high cheekbones. Vivi even forces Jude to try on a dark shade of red lipstick that Cardan later attempts to kiss off of her when they are alone in between the secluded store aisles.

Finally, they emerge from the store, shopping bags in tow as they head to the food court for lunch. The place is buzzing, with a multitude of smells permeating the air. Oak immediately makes a beeline for the blue and red themed food stall with a sign that reads ‘Domino’s’ in large lettering. The scent of pizza being baked is enticing and they quickly order a personal pizza each plus coca cola.

Thankfully their orders arrive quickly and Jude impatiently blows on the first slice of her barbeque chicken pizza. Next to her Cardan is considering his slice of pepperoni and cheese covered crust, no doubt fascinated by its odd composition. He seems to enjoy it after his first bite though, once it was explained that the pepperoni was not, indeed, supposed to be plucked off and eaten separately and soon they are all done.

Jude heads to the washroom to pee and whilst she’s walking back she sees Cardan being approached by a slim girl with blue streaks in her hair. He is alone, Heather and Vivi having gone somewhere with Oak and Jude quickens her stride.

She is just within earshot to hear the girl’s voice say, “Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

Jude’s eyes narrow as her husband smiles a sly grin and answers with an arrogant tilt of his head, “Rule the Kingdom of the Fae.”

He is being completely honest, after all he cannot tell a lie. But of course the girl does not know that and she looks confused and then lets out a giggle and lightly swats his arm, obviously thinking he is joking.

Jude has had enough of this and finally reaches her husband’s side and smiles at the girl, making sure that her ruby ring is on display as she takes Cardan’s arm. She immediately backs off, while Jude secretly pinches Cardan, hard, for messing with the girl.

“What was that about?”

“She asked a question. I answered it.” While his words were innocent, his grinning face gave away that he knew he’d been slightly wicked.

“Mhmm. You are incorrigible,” she rolls her eyes, finally letting her harsh grip on him go.

“You love it. Tell me Jude, did her question make you jealous?”

“Please, the females at court eye you on a daily basis back at home. It’s no surprise that they find you handsome here as well,” she responds truthfully. “I was more annoyed by your response. What happened to staying inconspicuous?”

He just smiles guiltily back at her. Shaking her head, she’s about to threaten him with a reduction of his beloved alcohol supply back home when she spots Vivi, Heather and Oak coming their way.

They spend the rest of the day at the mall in a similar fashion, introducing Cardan to the wonders of retail shopping and toy stores.  The day passes quickly and the exhausted party head home by early evening, satisfied with the day’s events.

A worn out Oak heads off to bed after extracting a promise from Jude that the two of them could play at the park alone together the next day.

It’s still too early for the adults to go to sleep and thanks to their sleeping in today they are all still wide awake.

“So, now that the little terror is asleep, what should we do?” Vivi questions, tucking a stray lock of her umber hair behind her furry pointed ears.

“Jude mentioned that there were places where mortals had night time revels, I should like to see them,” Cardan suggests.

Vivi trains her cat eyes on Jude, a feline smile on her face, “You told your husband about night clubs? Excellent. The High King of revelry in a mortal club is definitely something I need to see.”

The gleeful look in her eyes set Jude on edge. After all, she’s never been to one of these clubs herself, but surely they were not half as wild as Fae celebrations. How much trouble could Cardan get into?

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Hey, so we've approached pick up line territory (yayy, finally) but the real intro happens in the next chapter. So stay tuned🦕

Also, please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for further installations of this fic :))