#slaying both ways of course BUT LOOK AT WIFE WITHOUT HER GLASSES!!!! this feels so intimate to see

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Miraculous Ladybug

London: At The Edge of Time

[thewarriorandtheking]

The Warrior Queen

The Warrior and The King: Book II

I realized recently there is quite a bit of the Warrior and The King story that is not posted here...I have posted this chapter before but not the others. 

You can find Book I on my MasterList

1. Return to Me

Warning: Mild smut

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It was a beautiful spring day, a slight breeze blowing in the open window, the late afternoon sun warm with the promise of summer soon to come. Thorin was at his desk trying to compose a delicate letter to his cousin Dain. He was working in one of the old guard rooms above the gates of Erebor. Years ago after the Battle of the Five Armies Kaylea Wolf used the room as an office when she was helping with the reconstruction of Erebor, she said she needed a window to help her think. Thorin had spent so much time in the office that he continued to use it, even after his much larger formal office near the forges was cleaned up and refurnished. He would never had admitted it but he had become used to having the window. Gloin and Fili were with him, going over reports from the new works in the Misty Mountains.

Gloin looked up, something out the window had caught his eye. “Rider coming in,�� he said absently.

Thorin grunted, not looking up from his letter. “Must be the envoy from Dain,” he said. “Early. We weren’t expecting him for two days.”

“No, it’s a man,” said Fili, squinting at the incoming rider. “From Rohan, by the look of the horse.”

“Looks more like an Elvish horse,” said Gloin, turning back to his paperwork.

Thorin was only half-listening, trying to find the most diplomatic way to make a request of his cousin. He did not want to leave it to a scribe.

Fili looked again at the rider, thinking he seemed familiar somehow, though he was still too far away to make out much detail. He saw something moving along the banks of the road, then it crossed from one side to the other behind the horse.

“He has a big dog with him,” Fili frowned, Why did that seem so familiar?

Thorin dropped his quill and stared at his nephew. “What did you just say?”

Fili looked at Thorin. “He has a big dog…” his voice trailed off, his eyes going wide.

Thorin jumped up, knocking his chair backward and grabbed the spyglass he kept on his desk. He was at Fili’s side in an instant, the glass to his eye. He studied the rider for a few seconds then handed the glass to Fili and disappeared out the door.

Gloin and Fili looked at each other, neither needed the glass to know who the rider was.

Thorin hurried down the steps to the front gate, telling himself not to run. She was still a ways off, he had plenty of time to get to the gate before she arrived. The gate guards snapped to attention as he approached, Thorin ignored them. The gates were still open as the sun was not yet down, Thorin strode out and across the bridge. He made himself stop there, though he badly wanted to continue down the road. It had been almost 11 years since she had last ridden out of Erebor, Had she changed? Though his life was much different now his love for her remained as strong as ever, seeing her brought back all his feelings with an intensity that felt as if it would crush him. His heart was pounding in his chest, waves of emotions hitting him one after the other - pure joy, uncertainty, anticipation. When Kaylea Wolf reined in her horse in front of him his heart soared as he met her icy-blue eyes. Feeling that familiar thrill run through his body was so sweet he could taste it. She was unchanged, the same travelling clothes, the same wolf, the only thing different was her horse.

Kaylea dismounted and took a knee before him, bowing her head. “My king,” she said.

Thorin smiled and stepped forward, offering her his hands. As she put her hands in his and drew herself up he felt the familiar sensation of sparks running over his skin, his heart felt as though it skipped a beat. Thorin had to will himself to keep still, all he wanted to do was take her into his arms, but he knew he could not do that in full view of his subjects watching from the gate. And if he started kissing her he would not be able to stop.

“My lady,” Thorin said, still holding her hands. “It gladdens my heart more than you know to see you again.”

Kaylea smiled. “I hope you had not given up on me, my king.”

Thorin shook his head. “I had your word you would return. I had hoped it would be before this.”

Kaylea nodded. “I have been trying to get back since I left. Finally I am here.” She squeezed his hands. “You look well.”

“As do you, my lady.” The two of them stood looking at each other, Thorin holding her hands in his. He had remembered in his minds eye how beautiful she was, but seeing her in front of him again took his breath away. Like some goddess stepped down to earth; her chiseled features, her long golden hair. She was little changed, not a day older, her clothes were the same, in her hair were the braids that matched his own, mithril beads shining in the last of the sunlight, inside the neck of her tunic he could see the chain he had given her.

Kaylea could not believe the joy she felt at seeing Thorin again, she had not realized just how much she missed him until he was standing before her. He was both younger and taller than when she had seen him last. His head was now even with the bottom of her nose, his hair raven black without a touch of grey. He looked like a Dwarf of 80, not one pushing 210, the boosterspice had made him a true heir to Durin the Deathless it seemed. Kaylea was glad to see he had kept his beard short, in fact it looked even shorter now than she remembered. She couldn’t wait to feel it against her body again, the thought sent a tingle up her back. Kaylea wanted so badly to kiss him but she could see he was holding himself back so she held her ground.

Kaylea ran her thumb over the back of his left hand, feeling his wedding ring. “And you are now married.”

Thorin nodded. “To a princess of Ered Mithrin. I have a son, and she is again with child.” He looked at Kaylea closely, wondering how she would take this news, but her face was unreadable. “She is a good friend and a valuable counselor.”

“A good friend?” Kaylea asked, shaking her head. “I am sorry to hear that, my king. I hoped you would find love with the mother of your child.”

“My heart belongs to you, my love,” Thorin replied. “As I told you, it always will.” He felt a sudden tightness in his chest, his heart sinking. He shifted his hands, bringing them up to interlace his fingers with hers. “And you? Have you found...another?”

Kaylea gave him a radiant smile, meeting his eyes. “I lost my heart a few years back,” she said. “To a homeless king who had this crazy plan to slay a dragon.” Thorin smiled, feeling a great sense of relief flood over him, he had not realized he had been holding his breath. They stood looking at each other for a long moment, holding each other at arms length each desperately wanting to close the distance between them.  

“If we stand here much longer Fili is going to come out and tell me I am not behaving as a king should,” Thorin said, smiling ruefully. Kaylea laughed.

“Let me care for my horse, my king,” she said, slowly letting go of his hands. “It has been a very long ride today. Then we can catch up.” She winked at him.

Thorin smiled back. “Of course, my love. I am sure you would also like to wash up after your ride. I will have your quarters prepared. Do you still remember your way?”

Kaylea looked at him questioningly. “My quarters? Where I stayed before?”

Thorin nodded. “They are your apartments, my lady. None stays there but you.”

Kaylea chuckled, shaking her head. “That seems like rather a waste of space,” she reached for the reins of her horse and they went together into Erebor.

As Thorin had predicted Fili was standing just inside the gate, his face full of concern. Gloin was with him, and several other Dwarves Kaylea did not recognize. She greeted the members of Thorin’s old company warmly then led her horse down the side passage to the stables. Hector came trotting in as well, looking from side to side as he followed her.

 Kaylea unsaddled Hadrian and rubbed him down. She gave him a measure of grain and went over how he was to be cared for with one of the stable boys as she gathered her things. The stables had been enlarged and there were stalls that could accommodate horses now. Indeed the kingdom looked very prosperous, with new gates and improvements made to the main halls. There were many Dwarves and Men moving through the Hall of Kings, the sounds of business echoed around the chamber. Thorin had done well. And he had an heir, so his kingdom was secure. Kaylea had to admit she was secretly glad Thorin was not in love with his wife. If he had been she would have bowed out gracefully, but she would be lying to herself to say it would have been easy. Seeing him again had brought back all her feelings for him in a rush, she felt as if she loved him more than ever. She found herself looking forward to the evening, hoping Thorin was not going to keep up appearances and stay away. Judging by her welcome, she did not think that would be the case.  

Kaylea found her quarters newly renovated, with a larger bed, new furniture, rugs and wolf decorations scattered around. There was even a proper bathroom now, with running water. A fur bed had been provided for Hector, who sniffed at it and curled up where he could watch the door instead. Kaylea tried out the bathroom first, it felt good to get the road dust off, it had been a long ride from Mirkwood today. She had just pulled her tunic over her head when she heard Thorin’s soft knock on the door. Not wasting any time then, she thought with a smile and decided not to bother putting her pants on, they were just going to come off in a minute anyway. She took a deep breath before opening the door, she felt nervous as a schoolgirl, her stomach full of butterflies. She opened the door and Thorin quickly stepped inside, he already had his hands on her waist as she closed and locked the door. Kaylea turned in his arms and leaned back against the door as Thorin put one hand behind her head to draw her mouth down to his. Kaylea relaxed into his arms, relishing the taste of him, the feel of his beard tickling her face. She had forgotten how good it felt to kiss Thorin, that smell of frankincense, the taste of rain on earth, how all her cares vanished and she felt like everything was right in the world. They kissed each other for a long time, their hands moving over each other’s bodies, reacquainting themselves. Kaylea could feel Thorin stone hard pressed against her, just the thought of him inside her made her instantly wet. After a few moments Thorin moved his hand up under her tunic, finding nothing but bare skin he moved his hand up inside her thigh, his touch electric. Kaylea broke their kiss to gasp as he slid a finger inside her. She reached for his belt, unhooking it and unbuttoning his breeches. Thorin moved her legs apart with his knee and Kaylea bit her lip as he slid into her. His touch, the feel of him inside was so intense, from the minute she had set eyes on him she had been anticipating this moment. Thorin brought them both to an almost immediate finish. After, the King leaned against her, his head resting on her shoulder.

“How I have missed you,” he said, inhaling deeply. The familiar smell of her, that desert sand and sage. “You feel so good.”

“I have missed you more than I can say,” Kaylea said, holding him close. “I have missed this.”

Thorin gave her a wicked smile. “I won’t be finished with you for hours,” he said, biting her on the ear, then the neck. He moved back to step out of his boots. “Let us move somewhere more comfortable.”

 Several hours later, Thorin lay curled against Kaylea’s back, his arm around her waist, the smell of her filling his senses. He kissed the curve of her neck. Thorin found it strange, they had not seen each other in ten years but once they were together it was like she had never left. He brushed her hair aside to rest his face on her neck.

“How long can we stay in this bed,” he asked.  

Kaylea smiled. “You are the king, you tell me,” she replied.

Thorin chuckled. “I am not expecting Dain’s envoy for two days, so we can stay until at least tomorrow.”

“Will not the queen wonder where you are?” Kaylea asked, turning her head to look at him.

“She is away in the Ered Mithrin visiting her family, my love.”

Kaylea frowned. “I thought you said she was with child.”

Thorin sighed, really not wanting to talk about his wife. “She is. She does not trust the midwives here, my son was born in the Ered Mithrin this child will be as well.”

Kaylea frowned. “I think I will need an explanation,” she said. She started to roll over, but Thorin tightened his arm to stop her.

“We have not seen each other in years. Can our first conversation be about something other than my wife?” Thorin sighed. “I did what you told me to do, what everyone told me to do and, much as I hate to admit it, it was the right thing. Is that not explanation enough?”

“Very well, your majesty,” Kaylea said, with a smile. “We can talk about it another time.”

Thorin kissed her neck again, her shoulder, he could not get enough of the taste of her. He felt like the man who finds water when dying of thirst in the desert.

“Why are you here, my love?”

Kaylea wriggled against him, smiling. “To see you, of course.”

Thorin slapped her playfully on the butt. “You know what I mean! Why are you here in Middle Earth? Why now?”

Kaylea took a deep breath, suddenly serious. “To observe the progress of the Enemy. To go to Mordor and see how his plans progress.”

“Then I am going with you,” Thorin said.

Kaylea turned her head again to look at him. “My king, it is far too dangerous.”

“Is that supposed to make me not want to go? If you think you are going to show up after all this time and I am going to just let you ride into Mordor by yourself, you are sadly mistaken.”

Kaylea rolled over to face him. “This journey may take months, my horse cannot bear us both all that time. And I doubt your kingdom can spare you.”

“My kingdom will be fine, Fili can manage it almost as well as I,” Thorin replied, fingering one of the beads at the end of her braids. “And I have my own horse. A gift from the Rohirrim.”

“The Rohirrim gave you a horse?”

Thorin smiled, remembering. “It was part of a weapons deal. They said I was the tallest Dwarf they had ever seen, they thought it was amusing so they gave me a horse. She is small, but very fast.”

Kaylea sighed. Now that she was here she did not want to leave Thorin, but taking him to Mordor was very unwise. She decided to try to buy some time. “I do not have to leave right away. Let me think about it.”

“Think about it all you want, I am going with you,” Thorin replied, smoothing her hair away from her face. “And when we get back from Mordor you can marry me.”

“You are already married.”

“I have an heir now, I can be unmarried.” Kaylea just shook her head.

“I cannot marry you, I told you that before,” Kaylea met his gaze. “You are just not going to take no for an answer on this, are you?”

“I am not, my love,” Thorin replied. “There must be some way it can be done. Perhaps I could spend some of my time in your land and you could spend some in mine.”  

Kaylea smiled, shaking her head. “You do not know what you are asking, my king.” She drew him close and kissed him. She wished with all her heart she could take him back with her, but Blackwolf would never allow it. He might allow one of his Elven kindred to travel about the Empire, but never a Dwarf. And Thorin had a kingdom to look after.

“Then tell me what I am asking,” said Thorin, not willing to let the matter pass. “Are things so different in your land?”

“They are very different indeed,” Kaylea replied. She wrapped her arms around him, her hands stroking his body. “A conversation for another time, my king.”

Read the complete adventures of The Warrior and The King on AO3 & FanFiction, links on my homepage (author is akdogdriver). 

@theelvenvalkyrie​ 

[ladyborel]

Nights Most Heavenly

When Aymeric had spotted the Leveilleur twins and Etien on their way back from a short trip into the highlands, they had simply been a mass of dark blue, white, and bronze (at that distance, Etien’s hair was especially bronze-y).

But when they got closer, he noticed that Alphinaud and Alisaie were carrying Etien, whose boots were remarkably more red-streaked than normal.

So of course, he met them at the entrance to the city.

At least Etien was conscious. She waved to him weakly, wheezing before the twins put her down on some steps.

“We can… lift her again in a moment,” Alphinaud said before Aymeric could speak. “But we carried her from just about Falcon’s Nest.”

“What happened?”

“She fell from the company chocobo and got dragged,” Alisaie informed him. “It lacks the loyalty to her that—what did she call the other bird? Nyx?—does.”

Etien nodded weakly, taking another rough breath. Aymeric knelt down next to her, smoothing her hair back so he could get a better look at her eyes. They focused on him fine, a little smile even coming to her lips before she saw how upset Aymeric looked.

She kept breathing, slow and hard, looking at him. “I’m okay,” she finally got out.

“Please, do not lie for my benefit,” he said, scratching her scalp a little. “It looks serious.”

“I suppose. Mostly the bleeding is the worst part. And the ankle pain.”

“Bleeding,” he said flatly. He rose. “Alphinaud, Alisaie, take her to the chirurgeons. Quick as you can. Be careful with her.”

Alphinaud counted them off to lift her again, and off they went, Aymeric watching them until he couldn’t see them anymore.

Etien slept for most of the day following and the day after that, as they waited for the healing attempts to work with her body.

She slept, so she didn’t see that Aymeric visited for at least a few minutes every couple hours, asking after her condition and even bringing flowers once (he’d had some lavender brought by Aetheryte).

A few days into her convalescence, Etien was finally waking and sleeping at her usual hours, and she had a very welcome guest enter her room.

“Etien. How are you feeling?”

“Aymeric!” Her expression brightened. “Better, now that you came to visit.”

“Only better? Not good, then.”

She smiled. “What was it you said to me before? ‘Given time, I will heal’? I am well enough. Help me up?”

He supported her as she sat up a little in bed, propped up on a few pillows.

“So did you need something, or did you just come to see me?” she asked, still smiling because he hadn’t let go of her hands.

“Seeing you is always my desire, but I did have some business to discuss with you.”

Etien’s nose crinkled and she dropped Aymeric’s hands now. “Ugh. Business. Are you here to assign me work to tackle when I have fully recovered?”

Aymeric laughed. “A poor choice of words. I simply wanted to talk.”

“Now, that I am more than happy to do.”

Aymeric stepped away from the bed, pacing a little as he started to speak. “It pains me to see you walk into the claws of danger time and again. I understand your reasons, and I admire your determination. Still, with every journey you take, my fear grows.”

Etien’s eyes were trained on him.

“…the fear that you may not come back, that is.”

“Darling, I would never. I wish to remain at your side, and to leave you is to break my own heart.”

“I know,” he sighed, turning to face her fully. “My fear is not that you would leave by choice.”

Etien swallowed. “Oh.”

“Precisely. The more I think about it, the more it has dawned on me—what if we just married now?”

“I thought the reason we were waiting was because you lack the time to plan a wedding,” Etien responded, clearly confused by the knit of her brow and her tone.

“I do. It is. However… an elopement is still binding.” Aymeric was quiet as he said this, as if he were telling her a secret.

“An elopement,” she breathed.

“Yes. So eager am I to have you as my wife. Say yes, dearest.”

Etien laughed. “All right.”

He broke into a wide smile, one that spread to Etien, making her squint. She did so love to see him happy.

“Are you able to walk? To stand for a time, supported? I could hold you up.”

“Aymeric, I only had the wind knocked out of me and injured my feet. Of course I could stand. I love you and I agree with your reasoning. I will absolutely elope with you soon. But I would rather do it when I am not half-blind from pain or likely to aggravate the injury.”

“Are you in that much pain? Do I need to get a chirurgeon?”

Etien shook her head. “Not currently. But I would be if I walked and stood for a long while.”

He nodded, worrying his lip between his teeth. “Is there anything I can do for you, Etien?”

She smiled. “Well, a kiss would lift my spirits.”

Now he smiled, too, sitting down on the bed Etien lay in, lifting her chin and bending to kiss her.

It was like an illustration in the books Etien read, stories of brave knights and their fair princesses; indeed, if he remembered correctly, there was one that told of a princess who stayed abed for a hundred years, waking only to the kiss of her true love.

In some ways, would that Etien had been asleep when he had come in, so he could have kissed her awake.

But having her fully conscious, so her hand could slip into his hair and give a gentle tug that had him moaning into her mouth, was better by far, for now. He could kiss her awake some other time.

_

Everything Etien did was miraculous, it seemed. She could slay primals, persuade dragons, and heal at incredible speeds.

She was up and walking around again, so soon after Aymeric had visited her last, and now she was striding into his office.

She was dressed differently than usual, not her battle apparel, but not her finest clothes, either. She looked nice, to be sure, in a very pretty dress, but the formality of it was hard to decipher.

She made her way around his desk and to his side, and he lifted his free hand to silently ask her to wait for him to finish his thought before he paid her any more attention. When he was done, he looked up at her.

“Yes?” He asked.

“Can you take your break now?” She asked, folding her hands in front of her in a nervous tic, as if she had any reason to be nervous around him.

“I can. Is everything all right?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “I think the time to elope has come.”

So it was that Aymeric led Etien by the hand through the streets of Ishgard and into Saint Reymanaud’s Cathedral. The clergyman looked surprised to see the couple before him, and his shock only grew when Aymeric gave him a two-word command, then amended into three.

“Marry us. Please.”

He led them into the chapel, to the very front, their steps echoing as they followed him.

“I must ask… do you both come here of your own free will?”

Aymeric nodded. Etien grinned, with an enthusiastic “yes!”

The priest looked at Aymeric. “There is no duress? No reason to consider one of you pressured into this marriage?”

Aymeric frowned. “The only time constraint is I wish to marry her before she leaves Ishgard again, and Fury forbid, she perishes.”

Etien looked at her shoes.

The priest nodded. “Of course. Face each other, if you please, and join hands.”

Aymeric lifted Etien’s hands from her sides.

“I presume I am performing an abridged ceremony?”

Aymeric laughed a little. “I only need this to be sanctified in Halone’s eyes. The spectacle will come later.”

“I see.” The priest took a breath, and mumbled the call to prayer. “We gather today to join Aymeric de Borel and Etien Mellifer in blessed marriage. If anyone objects to this—never mind. Do you have rings?”

“This was spur-of-the-moment action on some ruminated thought,” Etien clarified. “We do not.”

The priest nodded. “Then make your vows. The bride goes first.”

Suddenly, Etien panicked. She lifted her wide eyes and wailed in a whisper, “Aymeric, I don’t know Halonic vows. Until I met you, I thought I was going to get married in a church of Llymlaen, if at all.”

He watched tears slide across her lower eyelids and threaten to fall, fogging her bright eyes with fear and sadness. As he was so usually tempted to do when she looked up at him, he cupped her cheeks in his hands for a moment.

“Do not fret, my dearest. I can tell you your lines.”

She sighed, accepting this, then nodded as they clasped hands again. “Lead on.”

And so, following Aymeric’s soft murmurs, Etien spoke her vows to him.

“O Halone, observe my solemnity as I take this vow.

I am sick with love.

My beloved is distinguished among ten thousand, and me has he chosen.

So do I bind myself to him.

He is without flaw. His locks are wavy, black as a raven.

His left hand is under my head,

and his right hand embraces me.

When I found him whom my soul loves, I held him, and would not let him go.

The winter is past; my beloved is mine, and I am his.”

Aymeric smiled as Etien finished the speech, a soft smile lifting her lips when she realized she had done it, and he was pleased with her.

He squeezed her hands, and then looked to the priest for permission to begin his vows. When he got a nod, he began.

“O Halone, observe my solemnity as I take this vow.

She is altogether beautiful, my love;

there is no flaw in her, and me has she chosen.

So do I bind myself to her.

Departed from the dens of dragons,

The young women saw her and called her blessed;

asked ‘Who is this who looks down like the dawn,

beautiful as the moon, bright as the sun, awesome as an army with banners?’

She has captivated my heart.

When I found her whom my soul loves, I held her and I would not let her go.

The time for singing has come. My beloved is mine, and I am hers.”

He lifted her hands to his lips, as he had the day they confessed their feelings, and pressed a gentle kiss upon her knuckles.

He looked to the priest again, and Etien joined him this time.

The priest straightened up. “What the Fury has joined, let no mortal put asunder. With Halone’s blessing, you are now married. Go in peace.”

They thanked the priest and scurried from the chapel, giggling. Etien stopped to look at the stained glass, mouth dropping open in wonder yet again, but Aymeric gently tugged her hand, urging her forward.

“We can look at the windows later,” he whispered. “We had best get outside.”

As soon as both of them were outside and the doors had shut, Etien let out a high squeal, throwing her arms around Aymeric. He picked her up, her legs swinging as the two rocked back in forth in a giddy embrace.

Aymeric stopped swaying, and Etien clung to him a little less tightly, pressing up from where she’d rested her head on his shoulder to look him in the eye.

“I doubt those were Halonic vows.”

Aymeric chuckled a little. “They were not. But they are ours.” He gave her a soft smile. “What do you think I read all that poetry for?”

“You wrote them?”

“Over and over, until they were perfect and I had them memorized.”

Etien couldn’t hide her impressed, utterly enamored surprise. “My darling husband,” she breathed.

“My dearest, beloved wife,” he responded. “May I kiss you?”

“Please.”

He’d asked permission, but she leaned in, her arms still lovingly looped around his neck as their lips pressed in the first kiss of their marriage.

Etien had started crying halfway through, the tracks on her cheeks cold when the air hit them. She sniffled when they broke apart, though she was still smiling.

Aymeric swiped the tears away with careful movements of his thumb, looking at her with only concern in his eyes.

“I had been so scared we would never make it this far,” she said, voice soft so it didn’t break. “But here we are.”

“Here we are,” he agreed, before kissing her forehead. He let her back down to the ground. “Shall we celebrate with a little cup of something hot? You might start shivering if not.”

Etien nodded. “Your office?”

“Unfortunately, yes. As much as I would love to take the rest of the day to spend with you, I do have a duty to my people. You are more than welcome to spend all day with me, if you wish.”

“I would like nothing more. Not a thing in the world.”

Aymeric smiled. They both knew what that meant. “Excellent. I think you left your book on my desk anyway.”

_

Etien sat nestled against Aymeric like she had myriad times now, silently reading, and consuming cup after cup of tea that was as much birch syrup as the actual tea. She looked sleepy now, head lolling against his chest as she fought her way through the book—her eyes kept closing.

He kissed her forehead, attempting to wake her up a little. “Etien. Etien?” He waited for her to meet his eyes.

“Yes?” She asked finally, drooping eyes locking with his.

“I think that is enough for one day. Would you like to go home?”

Her eyes widened. “I had never considered…”

“We can get your things from your room tomorrow. Come on.”

He waited for Etien to rise, listened to the crackle of her joints as she stretched, then stood himself.

The slight twitch of Etien’s tail and the clarity of her eyes indicated that she had woken up quite a bit, and the cold air sure to greet them would likely refresh her the rest of the way.

What was more, he knew the perfect remedy for cold air…

They left his office a respectable distance from each other, and had considered attempting some sort of business-related conversation, but decided against it, simply leaving the Congregation in comfortable silence.

The walk was a quiet one, though eventually, he took Etien’s hand and sighed happily.

Like this, it was almost easy to forget why they had even done it. In a light flurry, hand in hand, the snow standing out equally in their hair, Etien catching a flake on her tongue and then smiling up at him, Aymeric could ignore that they had married mere hours ago in the fear that if they didn’t, there was a chance they would never be married. That there were things he would miss, opportunities they would lose, if she was gone sooner than they expected.

Here, together, they could do anything.

And that was what they were right now. There, and together. Nothing else mattered.

Etien caught another flake, but left her tongue stuck out at Aymeric.

“Lighten up,” she cooed. She let her voice drop to a whisper. “This is our wedding night. We should be… well. Not in quiet moods.”

Aymeric tipped his head back, sticking his tongue out to catch a snowflake, too. “I hope you will forgive me for simply reflecting on my blessings.”

“There is no need for me to forgive you. I was, myself. But just the one.”

“The one?”

She squeezed his hand. “The one.”

Aymeric smiled at that.

Soon enough, they were home, and Aymeric led Etien through the door with a “Welcome home, Viscountess of House Borel,” that almost sounded too excited.

“Gods,” she breathed. “You know, I had forgotten about that.”

“You will not again. I will insist everyone treat you like a viscountess.”

Etien wanted to protest. She wasn’t opposed to the title, necessarily, but it had certainly never factored into… any of this. And how ridiculous would it be, the lord speaker of the House of Lords and lord commander of the Temple Knights telling everyone to treat the sweaty, bloodied, silly little Warrior of Light like a noblewoman? Etien was just a bard with some charm, determination, and tenacity. She wasn’t even an Elezen. Save for the Warrior of Light thing, she wasn’t special.

But then it dawned on her fully.

She was special to Aymeric. He thought she deserved it.

Sometimes she felt she didn’t deserve him.

“Etien?” He called to her.

She shook her head to clear her mind. “Yes?”

“You seemed lost in thought. Are you all right?”

She took a breath, letting her eyes shut on the inhale and open again with her exhale. “Yes, fine. That certainly is a lot to take in, though.”

He smiled. “You have all the time you need to do so. But a night like tonight only comes once.”

She flushed, wondering if he meant what she thought (honestly, what she hoped) he did.

“What do you mean?” she asked, ignoring the growing heat everywhere on her body. Her cheeks, her chest, the tips of her ears and fingers.

This time, Aymeric didn’t ask, bending and leaning to claim her lips, carefully pressing her against the wall as he gave her a kiss that had her gasping for air and yet still drinking him in like he was the only way she could have her next breath.

When he pulled away it was only far enough to free his lips so he could explain, in a voice low and velvety, “It has long been known by those close to me how deeply I desire you.”

Etien met his eyes, sure her pupils were as wide as his, and knowing that her mouth was still hung open, lips tingling, and let out a meek “Oh.”

He definitely meant what she thought he did. She closed her mouth, licking her lip once only because her breaths had dried it out, and then smiled. “Then come here.”

“If I come any closer, I’ll be a part of you,” he chuckled.

“You are already are,” she replied, tapping above her heart. “If you were any closer, you’d be inside me, and that’s what I want.”

He kissed her again, lifting her as he did, the button at the back of her dress’s collar scraping against the wall. When he’d gotten her into position, her legs slung over his hips, he pressed her there and pulled away, brushing her hair back from her eyes with both hands. Her pupils were already blown wide, leaving only thin rings of deep green at the edge of her eyes.

He wanted to say something, but he didn’t have anything prepared, and looking at her, flushed and looking like she wanted to utterly devour him, words left him anyhow.

“Etien,” he breathed.

“Aymeric,” she sighed, leaning in and only just hitting the c before their mouths met again. Her arms had been slung over his shoulder much the way her legs were over his hips, but now she tightened her left, pulling him closer again, and slipping her right hand into his hair.

Before she could even close her fingers in the black satin waves, he broke from her mouth, pulling her scarf off and pressing his lips to her neck, humming into the built-up warmth from simply wearing it, on top of her body temperature rising.

He’d hit pay dirt, getting a breathy whimper of his name from her. He smiled against her skin. “I take you like that?”

“Yes,” she huffed. He did it again, and her grip on his hair reflexively tightened. Now it was his turn to whimper. Despite his reaction supposedly being muffled in her skin, even he was surprised by how loud he had been.

Etien’s eyes widened, ears flicking. “Do… you think someone heard us?”

Aymeric threw a glance around, then let Etien onto the ground. “Most likely.” He grabbed her hand and took off through the house, moving fast enough he would evade anyone looking for him, but not so fast Etien couldn’t keep up.

When they got outside his chambers, he let go of her hand, and she folded hers, then folded her arms.

“Are you absolutely certain no one will catch us?” She asked in a hushed tone.

He lifted a finger to his lips. “Yes. The staff… I think they expected something like this. Seeing as I only, er, cried out the once and it was not in obvious distress, we are safe to continue. But stay quiet.”

“Why?”

“Well, we are still in the hall, but in addition, I should have carried you over the threshold of the whole house. Seeing as I did not…” He bent and scooped her up in one smooth motion, laughing as she sucked her lips into her mouth to keep from shrieking.

“Have you considered how lucky you are that I love you?” She asked.

“Every waking hour, yes,” he said, pressing his nose against her cheek. “Now my beautiful bride, to bed.”

Etien folded her arms again. “You are ridiculous.”

“Being in love does that.” He set her down again near the bed, and she began to unbutton her collar. He grabbed her hands. “Allow me.”

She stammered, but dropped her hands, letting Aymeric take over. He undid the small pearl buttons keeping Etien’s collar snugly around the base of her neck, and watched the fabric go slack as the fastening was undone. He took his hands off her, looking the dress over, trying to figure out how to undo it, but also waiting to see if Etien offered any guidance. When she realized his hands were gone, hers rose to her hips, each one catching a fastening ribbon between her thumb and pointer finger.

“Do you want to do it?” she asked over her shoulder. Aymeric replaced her hands with his, and tugged the strings carefully. She helped him loosen the dress around her, and then he took its hem.

He looked to Etien, and when she nodded, he tugged it upward, tossing it to the side when it was over her head and off her arms.

She reached to help him undress, too,  but he stopped her.

“Please?”

There was something so innocent and adorably genuine in the syllable, it made Aymeric laugh. He shed a few layers, so he was down to the one, and then leaned into her hands. “There, that seems a little more fair, as you only had on the one layer.”

Etien giggled, peeling Aymeric’s shirt off with delicate reverence.

He grabbed her hand when his shirt was tossed somewhere near her dress. “Your hands are downright frigid.”

“That would be the nerves,” she sighed, looking away.

“Nerves? What do you have to be nervous about?”

She met his eyes again. “That is a fair question.”

He pulled her closer. “There is nothing to be nervous for. I will take the absolute best care of you I can. Now, and in the rest of our lives, for all my days.”

She took a hitching breath. “I know.”

He tipped her chin upwards. “Then relax. Allow me to lead you in this little dance.”

He took her hand in his, and led her in a boxstep to move nearer to the bed. He dipped her after that, onto the mattress, his lips coming to her neck again.

Etien wriggled, and Aymeric dropped her onto the bed, leaning more fully over her to kiss her some more.

With no fabric of his clothing to cling to, she let her fingers dig into his skin.

He pulled away, trying not to laugh at the little whine Etien let out, especially because it seemed to be completely unbidden.

He kicked his boots off, and made quick work of Etien’s, as well.

“I think we can leave these,” he nearly purred, running the tips of his fingers up Etien’s stockings.

She shivered.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“Nnnno.”

Aymeric knew she wasn’t entirely telling the truth, but that didn’t matter. She would be plenty warm soon enough. However, he had deduced that it wasn’t actually cold that had her shuddering. What a sensitive little thing she was.

He finally looked her over, lying there, waiting for him. His hand was still laid on her thigh, just above her stocking, warming the exposed skin.

She had on a little skirt that matched her finest dress, the one she hadn’t worn this time.

“Is this…?” he began.

“It matches that dress, yes. I did say the whole outfit was the nicest thing I owned,” she answered.

“So this is for special occasions.”

“Nights like this only come once,” she said, lip curling into a grin that showed off her eyeteeth. She undid the corner holding the tiny skirt on, revealing nothing but her flesh below it.

Aymeric cleared his throat. “You were more prepared for the festivities that I anticipated,” he murmured.

“The Warrior of Light is always planning,” she said, still grinning. “But she prefers to act.” She beckoned him to her with an almost uncharacteristic crook of her finger.

Who was he to deny that command?

He pounced on her, inviting her to share another passionate kiss as he finished removing all the cloth that still stayed between them—his own, and what passed for lingerie on Etien’s chest (he didn’t even know they made lace like that).

He didn’t know how to ask her if she had had any experience in this area before, so he felt it the safe route to assume her inexperienced, and go slowly.

Though, the way she parted her legs for him did have him wondering if his ‘safe’ route was the wrong guess. That, or she was reading more than simply fairy tales in her spare time.

He almost hesitated to ask if he could touch her, she looked so perfect as she was right now. It was as if, were he to touch her, she would dissolve, like a dream or an illusion in mist.

Still, he did, a sweet “may I?” and Etien practically begged him to do it, with another little wiggle and enthusiastic nod.

So he let his hand trail down her body, feeling muscles flexing under her skin, until he reached the apex of her thighs. He flicked his eyes to her, and she barely dipped her head in another nod.

He took his time with her, watching, listening to every breath that passed her lips. All that was driving him nearly mad, of course, but it was such a good feeling to know that he, his actions, were what was melting the woman before him as if he were a flame and she were the candle, burning late in the night.

The acts bled together, so by the time Aymeric had sunk himself into her, he had no idea how long it had been since they’d giddily tumbled into his bed, but he knew he could stay like this forever.

She had her eyes closed until he asked her to open them, at which point she reached up and cupped his cheek, humming contentedly, though with a snap of his hips, it turned to a moan.

He just wanted to watch her pupils flare as she got closer and closer to climax. Her first of the night, that was. He had plans for her, fantasies to act on, the desire to make up for lost time.

If she continued her breathy keens through all of that, that would be good enough for him.

_

He had fallen asleep easily after what must have been a few hours spent exacting pleasure by any method they could imagine, and he was glad that Etien had been on top of him when exhaustion caught up with him. She clambered off him, sighing and folding herself next to him, letting the tips of her fingers glide over his cheekbone as his eyes fluttered shut and he murmured out his final proclamation of love for the night.

_

Etien had woken in the middle of the night, unsure what for. At first, she was confused at the unfamiliarity of the room, of the scent of the sheets she lay on, but when she felt the rise and fall of Aymeric’s chest under her cheek, the last day washed over her again. She looked up at Aymeric as he slept.

It was so wonderful to see him at peace, though it was less than optimal that he only relaxed so deeply in sleep. He was, as ever, so beautiful, though. Etien sighed.

He must have been a gift from the gods, a reward for all she’d suffered before meeting him, and in the time they had known each other.

She still wasn’t sure she deserved it, but she would not let go. Not when she was so happy.

Her eyelids drooped. Warm and happy. That was a good way to be.

_

Aymeric rose early, as always. He was taken aback at first, to feel another weight beside him in bed. But when he turned and saw who lay pressed against his back, curling up now that his warmth had left her, she smiled.

His Warrior, his wife. His dearest Etien.

He had wanted to see her like this for so long—not nude, mind, simply at rest. Her curls should have been falling in her face, but it looked like she had tied it back in the night. Still, her long lashes dusted the dark circles under her eyes, and her breaths were slow and deep.

She was the most exquisite being in all the world.

He ran a fingertip over the markings on her cheeks, and was amused to find that made her whole face crumple in from her nose outward, the same as kissing her forehead did (though her being asleep made it happen much more slowly this time.)

He bent and kissed her, just a gentle press of his lips to hers.

He heard a little groan from her, and settled back to find she had woken into the kiss.

“What a way to wake,” she mumbled, smiling as she sat up and struggled to open her eyes. “G’morning.”

Gently, he pushed her back to the bed and curled himself around her. “I had not meant to wake you,” he said with a gentle kiss to her cheek. “You can—and should—return to sleep, if you wish. I will be content to stay here and keep you warm.”

Etien sighed, rubbing his forearm where it was wrapped around her middle. “A very good morning, then.”

“One of many, I pray,” he murmured.

Etien laughed. “With you? It always will be.”

[writtingfiction]

May I request Robin getting severely injured in battle and chrom is thinking he's going to lose her?

Of course, you can! I will say I got a bit carried away, when writing this. I just can’t help it when it comes to Chrobin. (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ Also, I may or may not have made my sister cry while she read this to correct it.

pairing: Chrom x Robin

words: 1.9k

Robin had always made it a point to keep him within eyesight and within the range she could help him; if things got too overwhelming for him. And thankfully it never did, Frederick was usually by his side but this battle, things had gone differently. Frederick wasn’t by Chroms side, and instead with Lissa on the other side of the battle, trying to pull a pincer attack.

Robin gritted her teeth as she slashed at another enemy soldier, there wasn’t much use left of her Levin sword. She might have another few uses before it was useless. She gnawed at her bottom lip, eyes raising to survey the battle field, grasping the situation at hand. The other half of the army was doing well, she mused, moving the enemy closing towards them. Her eyes managed to spot Chrom, and the too many enemies heading his way.

She grumbled, feet picking up and making her way towards Chrom. She remembers making a passing comment in the past how he never looks behind him, but he deflects the comment saying she has his back. However, there’s always a bad taste left in her mouth every time he says so. He’s so used to the protection.

Robin slows her pace a little, wrangling a tome from out of her coat. Casting Thoron and effectively killing an enemy. However, there’s still more to cut down. Casting a couple more spells as she made it closer to the prince, the enemies were dwindling, and the rest of her group were going to start the pincer movement without them.

Robin lets out a small yell as she swings her sword through the enemy. She breathes heavily, spotting a shadow in the corner of her eye. She turns, half expecting to be Chrom approaching her but instead it’s her worst fear coming alive. Chrom was busy dealing with a soldier in front of him, not noticing the assassin coming up behind him. She yelled out his name, but it wasn’t enough. Her feet were moving on their own before she could even think.

She gripped the Levin sword tighter in her hand, whispering a spell as the sword began to spark to life. The smell of ozone filling the air, as the lightning on the sword began to crackle through the air. Bright yellow sparks flashed off the sword, making it hard to look at and a slight hum emitted from the sword. Robin stopped running, raising the sword above her head and calling out the spell. It was only split second later that lightning came crashing down right in front of the assassin’s path, much to Robin’s chagrin for it not hitting him but she could see the terrified look on the enemy’s face

Her feet moved again, drawing her closer to Chrom. The spell had slowed the assassin down just long enough for her to catch up and be able to protect Chrom. Her eyes solely focused on the assassin as he pulled out a dagger from his belt, preparing to stab the prince. Scenarios flashed through her mind, and she could only come to one conclusion. She had only hoped she would live through the situation.

She slid in between Chrom and the assassin, dirt kicking up and creating dust as she slid in front of the dagger meant for Chrom. She let out a growl, sword crackling in air as she rose it and plunged it into the assassin’s torso, leaving no room for the ugly bastard to survive.

She could only hear her heavy breathing and heartbeat pounding loudly in her ear drums. Before she even knows it, her knees give out underneath her and she’s feeling sick. Her eyes travel down towards her gut, seeing the dagger’s hilt. Her hands shook, touching the already blood-soaked shirt. It’s poisoned.She thinks, as she feels the need to puke her insides.

Fear. It made his blood go ice cold. He heard the footsteps of someone approaching him, no, a pair of footsteps. In his peripheral, he could see Robin coming towards him. He heard her shout his name, but it wasn’t loud enough over the screaming enemies.

He could hear rather than see what had happened behind him. The drag of feet against the ground, growls and gasps before hearing the sickening sound of metal slicing through flesh. There was a loud thud and for a moment he feared it was her. His wife, the one person her loved so dearly, falling to the ground. He pushes his sword forward, thrusting it through the enemy’s chest before he turns on his heels.

“Robin!!” Chrom screamed. Having slayed the enemies in front of him, only to turn and see his wife on her knees. He scrambled and kneeled down in front of her. He sees the dagger plainly and reaches to pull it out, but Robin stops him.

“It’s poisoned. Don’t touch it.” She grunts, swatting his hand away. His eyes widened.

“What?! Robin, you’ll die if we don’t pull it out.” He says, panic clear in his voice. Robin looks much paler than before, Chrom notes. He needs her, she can’t leave him.

“It’s better than you… touching it…” Robin coughs, leaning away from him as blood appeared on the ground.

“I don’t care for your reasoning; I’m not losing you too.” Chrom says firmly, hands reaching for the dagger. His gloved hands gripping the hilt before pulling.

“I would rather have the army lose one tactician, than the tactician and it’s general. Especially, if that General is the Exalt.” Robin says weakly, obviously trying her best to stay awake. Chrom freezes, and then turns and yells for a healer.

Chrom’s eyes go wide at the sight of the dagger in his palm. It’s a Grimleal insignia on the pommel. There’s a sickening feeling pooling in his stomach thinking that they were so close to killing him, and now, it’s Robin’s life on the line. Anger boils inside of him, burning away the sick feeling and plunges the dagger completely into the ground. That way no one else can hurt themselves.

His attention quickly goes back to Robin though. A hand catching her shoulder as she sways and tries to stay on her knees. A hand comes up to hold her face. His brow furrowed as his heart races against his rib cage.

“Robin,” Chrom breathes, his panic coming back in full swing. “what are you feeling? Tell me.” He could see Robin blink slowly as she tries keep her eyes locked on him. Another cough comes from her, blood dripping from her lips.

“My stomach…” Robin gasps, hand tightly gripping his arm. “or is it my lungs…” The comment doesn’t make him feel any better.

“Stay with me, Robin. Tell me what your feeling, we can identify the poison before it’s too late.” Chrom tries to keep a calm voice, but the way her head falls toward his chest, makes his heart leap.

She doesn’t respond to him. Chrom pulls her back, enough to then cradle her in his arms. Her eyes are closed, chest pulling and pushing in deep movements. He calls her name, again, again and again. He doesn’t notice when Maribelle had appeared by his side, he doesn’t realize Frederick is pulling him away from her until Frederick pulls him up and away from her. He doesn’t realize the hot tears streaming down his face either.

— — -

Chrom stared blankly ahead of him. Robin had been in the healing tent for hours now, he hasn’t heard a word of her condition. Is she stable? Is she going to make it with a wound like that? Of course, she is, but that poison. It was meant to kill, and how quickly was the question. He feared that they were now discussing a way to tell him that they had lost her. He feared they would come out of that tent to tell him that it was all his fault for being so careless. He was the reason that they lost their friend and queen.

“Chrom?” It was Lissa’s voice. He blinked before focusing his attention on her.

“…Yes?”

“It’s Robin, she’s…” Lissa pauses and his heart drops. He wasn’t ready. “she’s recovered from her wound but it’s the poison. The poison is making it very hard to… stabilize her. But, she’s fighting off the poison, Chrom.”

“Can I see her?” The words tumble out faster than he can register what he’s said. A sad look appears on her face. She looks to the ground before muttering.

“We don’t know if she’ll make it through the night, so it would be best for you to see her.” Lissa says, refusing to look at her own brother.

“But if she makes it through the night?” There’s a hope, and he’s trying to focus on that instead of the grim fate that could possibly swallow them all.

“She’ll recover.” Lissa says firmly, hope on the edge of her voice. They both want her to survive.

Chrom then leaves Lissa to her own devices, making a straight path towards the healing tent where Robin was. The moment he enters, he can see just how deathly pale she was. Her skin was almost as pale as her hair. He can feel his heart drop to the ground as he drags his feet towards her bedside. Pulling a chair close, so he can sit.

He gently takes her hand, scared that he might hurt her. She seemed so delicate and in pain. Her face was scrunched up, breathing heavily as she worked up a sweat. His chest ached seeing her like this, and then the added guilt.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, caressing her hand carefully. Like she was a piece of glass. “If I had only heeded your advice we wouldn’t in the predicament. We could have avoided the whole thing.” He feels small, so very small in this very large world. His wife laying on the bed as she struggles to keep her body awake and all he can do is wait and watch over her. Never had he felt so useless and defeated.

But there was always a hope, a silver lining of hope in him. That she would pull through and awake the next morning. That she would wake up and scold him as he trembles and holds her tightly. It pained him that this was only a hope, but all he could do is believe. He rested his head against the bed, muttering his regrets. He feared so much, he wasn’t prepared to face the world again alone. And, before he knew it, he fell asleep; a black blanket covering him as slept a dreamless sleep.

— — –

He awoke to the feeling of fingers threading themselves through his hair. There was a moment, that he had forgotten that Robin wasn’t injured and that they were back at home. The sun rising and giving them a warm embrace. What would normally follow next would be a gentle kiss to his hair before a raspy, good morning, would grace his ears.

His eyes open wide as his memory catches up to him. He raises and turns to face Robin, ignoring the screaming muscles from his awkward sleeping position. He can see her brown eyes shimmering just barely as they see him. Her hand that as in his hair, shifts to gently caress his face.

“Good Morning…” She whispers, her voice rough like sand; but he couldn’t care less. He gives her a wobbly smile, eyes shimmering with tears.

“Good morning.” His voice wobbles before he crumbles forward and holds her close.

He spills his heart and he send his praises to Naga. He’s eternally grateful, and happy that she was able to pull through. It may not be the mornings back at home, but this was good enough.

[ventrue-rosary]

D&December - Entry 4

Week 1, Prompt 4: Melee

Some more dnd verse Amara/Balthazar fluff. Balthazar’s player doesn’t have a tumblr, Amaranthe belongs to me

Ko-Fi

‘Do you know what today is?’ Illanis asks her over breakfast.

‘My birthday?’ Amaranthe responds, expecting it to be a trick question. Is there some other holiday or festival she is forgetting?

‘Remind me how old you are now?’

‘23?’ 

Ilanis rarely scares Amaranthe. But the continued line of questioning and her cold tone definitely do.

‘23. Five years ago you turned into a woman and you are still not wed.’

‘Mother I’ve been rather busy--’

‘Gallivanting across the world. Yes, Amara, I’m well aware. But it's time to put away the armour and don the gown. You will marry. This year. I think a summer wedding would be quite lovely, don’t you?’

‘You’re joking, right?’ Amaranthe says, despite knowing she is fully serious. 

‘It’s time you settle down and marry a nice, high-born man. No more adventuring and returning with...strange men.’

‘They’re my friends, they’re not strange! Alright...maybe Vander is rather odd but--’

Ilanis holds one hand up, and takes a long sip of her cofwah. 

‘I’m not saying you have to throw them out onto the street. They are welcome here, as they seem important to you. But your little dalliance with the tiefling--it ends here.’

Amaranthe scoffs, turning her face to one side. It is never easy to lie to her mothers face. It just seems to beckon and demand honesty. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, mother.’

‘Please Amara. I was not born yesterday. Your situation is not too unlike mine and your fathers.

‘Then why are you doing this?’

Ilanis reaches for her hand across the table. Amaranthe pulls hers away as tears sting her eyes. Not of sadness, or fear. Anger.

‘I don’t want to hurt you, Amara. I am merely doing what is best for you.’

‘It’s quite clear you don’t know what is best for me.’ She stands, abandoning her untouched breakfast.

‘You’ve barely eaten. Where are you going.’

‘To continue dallying with strange men,’ she calls over her shoulder. 

‘I can’t believe she’s making me wed,’ she laments to Balthazar, as they sit together in the centre of the hedge-maze, safe away from most prying eyes and ears. 

‘Do you know who to?’

Amaranthe rolls her eyes. ‘Does it matter? They’re all the same. Uptight, pompous, weak-willed ...they're not real men. They’re not you.’ 

‘Of course not. There can only be one of me.’

‘A shame,’ she answers wryly. She sighs. ‘I won’t even get to choose. There’s going to be a tournament in my honour.’

‘And you’re the prize?’

‘Yes. How twisted is that? I slayed a vampire, and now I’m just some trophy to be won.’ 

‘Yep. Some lucky bastard will be stuffing and mounting you on your wedding night.’ 

‘Balthazar!’ Amaranthe slaps his arm, but can’t stop the smile spreading across her face. ‘You’re taking this far better than I thought you would.’

‘That’s because I have a plan,’ Balthazar proclaims proudly with a wink.

‘You’re not thinking of...oh no.’

‘Oh yes. Don’t worry, Amara. I have it all figured out.’

‘I hope so. The tourney is in a weeks time.’

‘Damn. She’s wants you wifed soon, huh?’

‘I think she’s mostly wants grandkids soon.’ 

‘Well, you have one more week as a confirmed bachelorette. Why don’t we have some fun in the meantime?’

Amaranthe winds her arms around his neck as his hands grip her hips. ‘I could never deny such a request.’ 

Soon, elven dignitaries from home and abroad arrive at the palace, all of them with their servants and squires, making ready for the tournament. The practice yard is in near constant use by the elves testing and perfecting their techniques. She notices Balthazar silently watching some of the training from the stands, though never deigns to test any of their mettle. 

Contrary to her prior believes of the elven noble combat prowess, she finds several of them impressing her. More than two training dummies explode into shards of wood and hay, and many attend dinner with bruises and cuts incurred through peer on peer training. Though her stance on giving any one of them her hand remains unchanged. She is in love, and they can batter each other black and blue and it won’t make any difference. 

Ilanis, of course, is delighted and points out a few of the stronger ones to her, Lord Arandir and Daravas. Brothers, competing against one another. They did have some muscle to them, perhaps even as much as Balthazar. She simpers and agrees to appease her mother, but refuses to engage with any of them. If they are all content treating her as an object to be won, why should she give any of them the time of day?

The day of the tournament dawns. The stands are open to the public, and many denizens from all across Evermeet come to see who will win the hand of the Princess. Amaranthe sits on the throne next to her mother, who looks resplendent and glowing with joy and pride. She supposes she should feel flattered by the turn-out, but only feels embarrassed. Far too many people come to witness the forging of her future. 

‘Hail and welcome to all of our attendees, whom have come to bare witness to a monumental event that will forever be etched into the annals of our history. Princess Amaranthe Darcelle, first of her name, daughter of Queen Ilanis Darcelle and Sir John Wickenham, will be betrothed to the winner of today’ tournament. May all of our contestants fight with honor and valour. 

Now let us welcome our first contestants.’ 

The crowd cheers as the first two elves walk out into the ring. Both of them walk straight towards Ilanis and Amaranthe, bowing to them. She recognises Lord Lorvellan from his shiny armour that had likely never seen a single battle. The other removes his helmet. He appears to be a sun elf, but the thick black hair and amber eyes she would recognise anywhere. Her covertly winks at her. Amaranthe wrestles against her smile as she walks down the steps, leaning over the battlement to tie her favour onto his forearm. 

‘Fight bravely, sir.’

‘For you, but of course. I look forward to claiming my prize.’ He steps back with one last wink, donning his helmet as he turns to face his opponent. 

Ilanis raises one brow at Amaranthe as she retakes her seat.

‘What? He’s rather handsome.’

She inclines her head with a pleased smile. Amaranthe wonders how much trouble they would both be in when the truth came to light. 

Balthazar spins his sword in his grasp, tossing it up and catching it in the air in his other hand. Show-off. 

Even though his entire face if covered, she could practically see the smug grin as his opponent begins to walk in a circle parallel to him. Balthazar mimics his every step. He lunges, only to make him flinch. It draws a few laughs from the crowd, before they return whispering with anticipation, some of the more impatient viewers urging them to get on with it already. 

Lord Lorvellan takes that as his cue to charge Balthazar. His deflect is almost lazy, slowly hefting up the sword with one hand. Balthazar remains on the defensive, which would be rather uncharacteristic of him if Amaranthe didn’t know any better. He is toying with the poor man. As expected, he claims his first victory without letting a single hit land. 

Lorvellan limps off the battlefield with whatever remains of his dignity.

‘And the first victory goes to…’ the chamberlain stops mid sentence, shame-faced. ‘I’m sorry, but who are you again, sir?’

‘Baron Strahd, of Barovia,’ he says, glancing at Amaranthe as he speaks.

She is so thankful none her knew of Barovia. 

‘Lord Strahd of Barovia!’ the chamberlain announces.

The crows roars, despite knowing neither Strahd or Barovia. They should be grateful of their ignorance. 

‘Are we ready to meet our next contestant?’

The tourney continues, as does Balthazar’s winning streak. 

Ilanis turns to her with a pleased smile partway through. ‘Seems your favour brought your chosen champion some luck.’

‘Yes, so it would appear,’ she says with a nervous laugh. 

The tourney would soon end. And their little secret would come to light. Now Amaranthe needs to think of a way Balthazar’s head stays attached to his shoulders. 

Finally, it comes to an end, and Balthazar’s stands at the victor. 

‘Come forward,’ Ilanis orders.

He does, removing his helmet. As he does, there is a flicker of his form as he drops the illusion masking his true appearance. There is a chorus of shocked gasps and scandalised whispering as Evermeet finally beholds the true nature of their victor--a tiefling. 

Ilanis’s expression freezes, her facial muscles twitching.

‘Good to see you again, your Majesty. Princess.’ He makes a sweeping bow.

If her mothers fury didn’t strike fear into her heart she might laugh at his clearly sarcastic actions and words. 

Ilanis whips around to face Amaranthe. ‘You knew about this, didn’t you?’

‘I swear mother, I had no idea.’

‘Both of you, throne room. Now.’

Ilanis stands and strides sharply back towards the palace.

‘U-um I believe the tournament is over… thank you all for attending and congratulations to our victor--I think…’ The chamberlain awkwardly stutters, but the stands are already draining. 

‘So, how dead am I?’ Balthazar asks as they walk back together. 

‘Pretty dead.’ 

‘Ah well. It was worth it to see your mother’s expression. Priceless!’

‘Not as priceless as Lord Daravis. He actually clutched his chest! Never seen someone look so betrayed!’

They share a laugh, but it dies quickly as they approach the throne room. 

‘I’ll go in first. Maybe seeing me will calm her a little,’ she says.

The guards push open the doors. There her mother sits, half a dozen stained-glass windows painting her as a featureless silhouette against the burning light filling the room of white and gold marble. Though Amaranthe can’t see her expression, her posture shows she is furious, and so very done. 

‘Well, don’t be shy, Balthazar. Come, take your place next to my daughter. That is what you desire, yes? So very much you are willing to use magic to fool dozens of respected noble families and myself.’

‘Your Majesty, if I may--’

She holds up her hand. ‘Let me finish. What you have just done, humiliating me in front of my entire court and half my kingdom...I should have your head for that. But it was a bold move. Bolder than any of that lot would dare. And you did prove the strength of your sword arm. An impressive display.

‘But you also proved something no other candidate could. Your love. Only love drives men into acting like such reckless fools.’ 

Amaranthe peers up at her mother, her fears caving into hopeful optimism. Though knowing her mother this could nosedive into the worst case scenario. 

She sighs again. ‘I realise I am the worlds biggest hypocrite. I love John. And I never married because of him. But that is my biggest regret. Trying to hide my second greatest joy in the world. But my when my first joy was born that proved quite impossible.’ Her head tilts to Amaranthe’s direction. ‘I give you my blessing.’

‘Well, now I feel bad about deceiving you,’ Balthazar says.

‘This time around, it worked in your favour. But if I may impart a small bit of advice, as your soon to be mother-in-law: never try it again.’  

‘Yes, your Majesty.’

‘Now go. It would seem I have a wedding to plan…’

[eternityunicorn]

Elijah’s Eternity: Smutty Oneshot - Plots in the Dark +18

Author: eternityunicorn 

Genre: Romance/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Warnings: Smut, pure unadulterated smut! 

Summary: One rainy night, Elijah Mikaelson overhears his pregnant lady plotting something without his knowledge with Hayley. Suspicious, he lays in wait and follows her, only to discover her dark and dangerous secret. Just what the hell is she thinking taking on an army of unified rogue witches and rogue werewolves all by herself? Elijah would like to know.

NOTE: OC is from my up and coming novel series!

AUTHOR’S COMMENTARY: First off, this fic did not turn out quite as I expected as it is rather fluffy or so I think. Secondly, I’m sick and so I’m not very amorous right now. Therefore, I am unsure how good this oneshot is, but hopefully it’s decent. Enjoy!

PS: Gif/scene that inspired this fic: 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

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The rain was loud, but the thunder was louder. It was to be a dreary night in the French Quarter, Elijah Mikealson thought to himself, as he stood by the window of his study with a glass of bourbon. Typical.

Oh well, it was late and he knew he should tend to his darling wife, of whom was in a delicate condition thanks to a spell that had been cast upon himself to allow such a phenomenon. He was a doting husband and father-to-be, always ensuring that Eternity wanted for nothing, despite it being early days for them. They had only just found out she was pregnant with their first child last week, when she felt a spark of life force energy that meant only the one thing.

Smiling, Elijah had remembered how over the moon he had been upon hearing the news that he was going to be a father after being denied such a blessing for a thousand years. It was the best thing to ever happen to him since meeting Eternity - now Eternity Mikealson. 

Feeling rather amorous in his renewed joy, he put away the bourbon and went in search of his beloved bride. 

He found her in the common room, but she was not alone. Hayley Mikaelson, Niklaus’s bride, was with her. Usually that wasn’t a concern. In fact, it was a common occurrence these days. However, they were whispering quietly amongst themselves and what Elijah overheard gave him pause before revealing himself to the ladies. 

“If Elijah finds out what you are doing, E, he’s going to be so pissed,” Hayley hissed at Eternity. “Why don’t you just tell him what’s going on? He’ll help you. You know he will.”

“Aye, he will,” Elijah’s lady replied in a sharp whisper. “However, I don’t need his aid in this nor do I want it. He’s done enough for me in giving me all the love and protection I could ask for. This, I want to do on my own. I can do it on my own, just like all the other times.”

The other times? The Original wondered. Just what exactly had Eternity been up to behind his back? What could possibly be going on that would prompt his wife to act alone and in secret?

Elijah heard Hayley sigh exasperatedly, “But E, this isn’t like the other times, when you weren’t, you know, pregnant! Before, I could see your husband being a little irritated, but otherwise cool with this secret of yours, should he have found out. However, you and I both know that Elijah is going to be furious to find out that his pregnant wife just -.”

“Enough, Hayley,” said Eternity in a harsh whisper. “I am going.”

“Well then, at the very least, take someone with you,” Hayley tried. “Take Klaus or Rebekah or me. I’ll go. You just shouldn’t do this on your own. Please.”

“I am going,” the ethereal woman responded with finality. “Alone.”

“But -.” The female hybrid tried again.

“No, Hayley,” Eternity cut her off gently, but with firmness. “I love my husband, but Elijah does not rule me nor do I need to ask for his permission, pregnant or not.” There was a pause and a sigh. Then, “He’s just going to have to forgive me should he find out.”

“Fine,” gave in Hayley, sounding defeated, “I’ll continue to keep your secret.”

“Good. Thank you, my darling Hayley. It means a lot to me.”

Elijah was a mix of confusion, suspicion, and anger, but he didn’t dare to appear to them now. They would know he had been listening into their conversation. In fact, he sped away just as Eternity was leaving the common room, dressed in all black, including a black velvet cloak with a large hood that hid her face. He stayed hidden in the shadows as he watched her head down into the compound’s courtyard and then slipped out into the night as quietly as a ghost. 

She had looked ready for battle...and that had him worried.

He thought about interrogating Hayley, but changed his mind. Doing so would waste too much time. He needed to follow Eternity, to find out whatever it was she keeping from him. Besides, if there was battle involved, he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave her to it all alone.

Therefore, Elijah tracked his wife through the rain, keeping to the shadows, as he trailed after her at a considerable distance. He didn’t want her to be alerted to his presence until he knew exactly what it was she was up to.

He followed her to Rousseau’s, watching from the rooftop across the street as Eternity went inside cautiously. He couldn’t see anything else once she had and had to move in closer. He sped down to hide just outside the doors and peered inside the window to assess the situation. 

He was surprised to see a very large group of people inside the rather small establishment. They overcrowded the place. From what Elijah could tell, they were a mixed bunch of werewolves and witches and they were all surprised and suspicious to see the cloaked stranger that was Eternity.

The crowd that had been widespread began to close in on his lady. One of the werewolves, a middle aged man whom looked like he belonged in a western film with his cowboy boots and hat approached with little fear, only a threatening disposition. 

“Hey there stranger,” the man said to the hidden Eternity. “I don’t believe we invited you to this little get together, whomever you are. I suggest you vacate the premises or else things might turn ugly.”

“You lot are the ones seeking to storm the Mikaelson compound kill the Originals and their families, am I correct?” Eternity inquired boldly. 

The older man looked back at his comrades and then back at her suspiciously. “Why, yes, that is correct,” he responded with the others around him beginning to grow nervous. “We are but one faction of our movement or at least, we were. We are the last of our revolutionaries. There were more of us until all our other comrades were killed by some unknown assailant. Say, you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you stranger?”

Elijah couldn’t believe what he was overhearing for a second time in one night. First, Eternity had been going off on secret missions it seemed without his knowledge and now, it turns out that these missions were to stop a plot against him and his family - something that he hadn’t any idea was happening nor to his knowledge, did anyone else at the compound, save for Hayley and Eternity herself. 

He was in awe of his wife’s willingness to take on the Mikaelsons’ enemies. However, he was also angry that she had never told him. He loathed lying, including omissions. He didn’t like that she had chosen to take on this task alone or that she had been constantly putting herself in danger without his consent or knowledge, especially now that she was facing these foes while pregnant with his child.

“I know plenty about your fallen comrades,” Eternity responded to the older werewolf. “It was I that slain them all, one group of miscreants at a time. In fact, you lot are the last on my list of targets and tonight I shall give you one chance to stand down, as I did the others. You have the choice to leave the Mikaelsons alone or else I will kill you all, here and now.”

The fear amongst the large crowd was palpable, even to Elijah whom was standing outside. They grew hostile then, knowing that Eternity was the one whom had gone after their people. The witches stood back, prepared to attack with their spells, while the werewolves moved in their own preparation to attack with brute force.

“Well, I think you know our answer, little lady,” the older wolf said with a smirk and a tip of his hat.

“Very well,” she nodded understandingly. “Have it your way.”

Elijah’s lady seemed unperturbed, being calmly ready to face these enemies. It wasn’t long before she was facing them, as the wolves attacked her with all their might. They were of course no match for Eternity, whom danced around them while armed with her katana, slaying all who dared to make a move against her with a speed unmatched. The witches tried to help their wolf allies, but of course the immortal queen had the ability to either block their efforts or simply be completely immune to them. The witches that attacked were slain quickly too.

For a time it seemed as though his concerns were unwarranted, despite the danger. Eternity moved flawlessly, killing all whom dared to stand against her until the crowd wolves and witches had been cut down to a quarter of their numbers. Elijah had watched with pride in spite of his anger over her sneaking about behind his back. He had calmed considerably as he watched her work.

Then everything changed. 

It had only been a misstep, a foolish and frankly amateurish mistake, one that his lady had no business making. A wolf had managed to break through her defenses and wound Eternity with a couple slashes of a hunting knife to her arm and side, as well as a wolf bite to the shoulder. That had been enough to give the remaining witches and wolves enough bravery to swoop in and destroy their foe.

Fear for his wife’s safety tore through Elijah and upon impulse he moved to put a stop to the fighting. He entered the bar and shouted authoritatively, “Eternity!”

Everything came to a stand still upon the echoing power of his voice. His wife turned to look at him with a fear of her own, though he couldn’t decide if it was because he had caught her in the act of her little secret or if it was fear for his life. Perhaps a little of both?

“Shit,” his vampire hearing caught Eternity muttering under her breath. Then there was a roll of her eyes, followed up with face palm and an annoyedly hissed, “Of course.”

He eyed her with cool rage at the bothered reaction she gave to his presence.

“Get out of here, Elijah,” she had the nerve to shout at him angrily, as the fighting continued and she carried on slaying her opponents right and left.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He responded back, watching as she finished off the rest of the wolves and witches, save for the old werewolf she had spoken to earlier, before the fighting had begun.

Eternity turned, a wicked, malicious grin upon her pink lips, while she gripped the back of the older gentleman’s neck firmly in her hand and presented him to Elijah. “I’m doing what you are always doing,” she replied calmly. “I am protecting our family. I am protecting you!”

With that, she crushed the old wolf’s neck in her tiny hand as if it were an aluminum can. She let the body fall to the floor, before looking at Elijah smugly, despite the fear he could still see in her sapphire eyes. 

“This has to stop, Eternity,” Elijah said firmly, as he stepped closer. 

Eternity rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms defiantly over her chest.

“You cannot continue to kill witches and wolves like this,” he carried on, feeling his anger rising as he spoke. “Do you honestly think that these factions are the only ones who have vendettas against our family? Do you even know if they are truly the last of this organization of enemies or if this army of rogues are more widespread than New Orleans? You could be bringing something greater and more dangerous then these fools to our doorstep from these secret slaughterings that you’ve been participating in as of late.”

“Elijah, I have this handled,” replied Eternity with quiet firmness. “Even if there were others, it matters not. If these potential others decided not to heed the danger signs and came anyway, I will kill them, just as I have eradicated the city of all their local brethren. Nobody will harm what is mine.”

Elijah was beside himself. While he didn’t doubt his wife’s capabilities to protect them all, he was finding her rather reckless and thoughtless in this mission of hers. “This could be seen as an act of war with the witches and wolves not part of this movement, Eternity,” he told her in calm anger. “I beseech you to cease this reckless behavior now. Think of our unborn child!”

She glared at him coldly then as she stepped into his space, mere inches from him, “Don’t. The child is fine. I can protect us both. For you to think I would recklessly endanger our child’s life or those of our family without consideration or care is insulting.”

With that, Eternity swept past him and stormed out into the rainy night. 

Anger continued to storm through him, accompanied by frustration with his bride’s stubbornness. He wasn’t about to let her get away from talking to him about this and so, followed her out into the night. He sped in front of her before she could get far down the street with a glare of his own, as the rain poured down around them. 

“If you truly have everything handled,” he growled at Eternity, who stopped dead in her tracks upon his interception. “Then why the secrecy? Why keep this little endeavor from me? If what you’re doing is safe, without consequences, then why did you not at least speak to me about what was going on?”

Eternity blinked at him, as the rain poured over her face, nearly blinding her. “I didn’t tell you,” she spoke loudly over the pouring water drops, “because I knew you would keep me from acting, but I knew that if I didn’t do this, then all might be lost. This army is formidable for you and your siblings, perhaps too much so, despite how powerful you all are. You could have died, if I did not act on your behalf.

“You are just as stubborn as I and I understand well your unwavering need to protect me, especially now. You would have kept me guarded, bound and chained if you had to, and then it would have been your death. I did what I did...for you. I won’t have our child growing up without a father nor will I live without my husband.”

Elijah was moved by her words. Not to say he wasn’t still furious with her for her decisions, because he was. However, he could understand her reasoning for doing what she did. She took a risk for family, for him...for always and forever. He couldn’t fault her for that.

With a heavy sigh, he looked down and rubbed his forehead in exasperation, unsure of what to do. Then as he looked up at his wife and noticed the red trails of blood that mingled with the rain water that ran over her pale flesh and dark leathers. He held his hand out to her as he gently beckoned her, “Come on, Sweetheart. Let’s get you home and cleaned up.”

Hesitating for a moment, Eternity finally gave in and took his hand, letting him lead her home. She was quiet for a time, as was he. He stewed in his anger and worry over her actions, not trusting himself to be able to speak civilly to her right then as a result. She seemed remorseful and a little timid, now that the adrenaline rush from the kill had worn off a bit. There seemed to still be a bit of fear in her as well. Probably because she was worried herself over what consequences he might inflict upon her for her behavior.

However, Elijah wasn’t actually thinking of punishments. Despite his anger, he was simply glad that Eternity was alright after acting so recklessly. As a result of that gladness, he only wanted to get her home and take care of her as the doting husband he was.

He was getting soft, he thought with slight amusement.

Once they arrived at the compound, Elijah quickly whisked his wife up into their bedroom. There was an en-suite bathroom and Eternity tried to use it to escape him, attempting to head in there before he could say or do anything. 

However, he predicted she’d try as much and managed to stop her by grabbing her wrist before she could get far. She didn’t look back or turn around. She remained perfectly still in his grasp. 

He didn’t speak to her. Instead, Elijah simply acted. He gently released her wrist and came to stand directly behind her in order to take off her cloak and then he undid the stays on her corset, opening it up and removing it from her body. From there, he brushed her long, damp white hair to one side, letting it hang over her shoulder. Then he grabbed her biceps and pulled her back against him with his mouth latching onto the side of her neck. He laid open mouthed kisses there long the pale column. 

He listened to her soft moan and felt her hand reach to cup the back of his head tenderly. After a moment, he pulled back and began to lay kisses to her bare shoulder, then he moved to her spine, continuing to trail kisses downward until he reached the hem of her leather leggings. Crouched there behind her, he gripped the sides of the stretching material and tugged it down, kissing the exposed skin of her backside as he did. 

Elijah helped her out of her heeled ankle boots and proceeded to remove her leggings from her person entirely. Once that task was completed, he slowly rose to his full height, running his hands over the exposed skin as he went. At full height, he kissed her shoulder one last time, before he removed his suit jacket, then lifted Eternity into his arms and carried her away into the bathroom. 

His wife seemed surprised by his gentle and tender actions, having not expected such from him when she knew he was angry with her. Truthfully, he was surprised by his actions as well, as it wasn’t typical of him if he was in a foul mood. They had disagreements in the past that lead him to be rougher, to taking his anger out on her body in the most delicious of ways.

However, that sort of behavior didn’t seem right, not now, not in this moment. Elijah was angry, but he simply wanted to show Eternity only his love. 

Still neither spoke, as he set her down by the clawfoot bathtub and went to work filling the tub with warm water, but not before he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. While he stood to watch it fill, he felt his wife press herself against his back with her arms wrapped around him, which was still covered in his damp clothes. 

“I’m sorry, Elijah,” she murmured to him. “I never mean to hurt or upset you. I just wanted to keep you and the others safe. I wanted to protect what is mine.”

“I know,” he responded softly, placing a hand over hers that lay over his heart, “but you do realize that you are never leaving my sight again, at least not until we ensure this threat you discovered and dealt with is truly gone. You won’t be taking any more risks.” He turned in her embrace and smiled in slight humor, “Even if I have to tie you to the bed and recruit Freya’s aid in casting a binding spell to ensure you stay put.”

Eternity smiled a little in return, just as he cupped the side of her neck and kissed her lips tenderly. 

Soon the tub was full and Elijah guided his lady into the tub, helping her sit down in the water. He knelt beside the bathtub with some soap and a washcloth and began to clean her body of the blood that stained her skin. There wasn’t anything sexual in his movements, just a simple caring love. He ensured that every inch over her body was cleaned to perfection, watching as the water turned an unsightly brownish color in the process. 

Once he was satisfied in her cleanliness, Elijah helped Eternity out of the tub and proceeded to dry her off. He couldn’t help himself in kissing her skin again. As he ran the towel over her body, his lips followed the cloth’s path. 

Now that his caring task was finished, his actions became sexual in nature - a result of his wound up emotions from earlier. He had begun to feel his desire for her grow with his sensual actions, especially as he began to dry the front of her soft form. His mouth trailed over her breasts, then her slightly rounded stomach, and finally the mound of her womanhood. He heard her gasp and moan when his mouth pressed against the cleft between her legs. Her hand reached down to thread her fingers through his hair, his name fell from her lips in a soft sigh.

After a short time, Elijah pulled back and smirked up at her, before quickly finished drying her off and then picked her up again into his arms, carrying her from the bathroom toward the large bed. He laid her down upon the cushy surface and then began to remove his own soddened clothes, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from his body, tossing it into the room.

Immediately, Eternity was on her knees upon the bed and drawing him to her. Her mouth descended upon his, her tongue sweeping into his mouth to taste him hungrily, while she cupped the sides of his face in her little hands. He stood there and let her do as she pleased, but only for a moment. 

Eventually, he gently pulled away and gazed lustfully at his wife, while she did the same to him. 

There was a moment, a beat, before Eternity moved to pepper apologetic kisses to his jaw and neck, then his shoulder and chest. Elijah let her do that too, contented with the feel her mouth on his bare skin. However, it seemed to have been a ploy to lower his defenses, because in a blink he was tossed onto the bed with his lady straddling his waist. 

He stared at her in surprise, while she grinned playfully and carried on peppering his flesh with her kisses. “I know I have done wrong,” she murmured to him, between kisses, “but allow me to make it up to you, my love.”

Elijah went to speak, but Eternity took his words from him as her mouth descended to his abdomen, just above his pants in a show of her intentions. Her hands joined the fray and proceeded to undo them with deft fingers, quick and effortless. Once they were open, she moved to pull them downward, along with his boxers until his hardened cock was exposed. 

With one last flashing grin at him, she went to work, licking the tip of his length and then licked the length of him, before slowly enveloped his hardness completely with her mouth. She bobbed at a slow, sensual pace that quite frankly drove Elijah mad with want.

His hand quickly threaded through her snowy hair as her head moved up and down on his cock. At first, it had been simply to hold on, but soon he felt the need for control flare to life. His hand fisted in her soft locks and he stilled her movements, before taking control and thrusting into the warm wet cavern carefully, slowly, at first, but with eventual abandon. 

The pleasure was unimaginably exquisite. He was captivated by the wonderful sensation of her mouth wrapped around him. So splendid was the feeling that it didn’t take long before he lost himself to it and came in Eternity’s mouth with a shout that echoed around the room. He felt her swallow everything he gave her and then licked him clean of anything left over. 

Once he recovered, Elijah watched as his wife crawled up his body, trailing kisses along his already sensitive flesh as she went. Eventually, Eternity was straddling him again, her wet entrance hovering over his still hard cock. She grinned as she rubbed against the length of him teasingly. It was maddening.

Not in the mood for her playfulness, he growled and tossed her off of him, taking her by surprise this time, as she suddenly found herself beneath him. She recovered swiftly and smirked, while his lustful eyes blazed down at her. He kissed her lips hungrily, his tongue prying her mouth open and diving inside to taste her flavor mixed with his own. 

Elijah kicked off his shoes, then his pants and boxers, before he rolled onto his side, taking Eternity with him, as they kissed passionately. His hand slowly, sensually, reached down to hook her leg over his hip, then he pulled her closer to him. He reached between them to take himself in hand and line up his cock with her wet heat. 

With one hard thrust, he was buried inside her. 

Both of them gasped and groaned at the intense feeling of being joined, their mouths parting only for a moment, before reattaching in a frenzied passion. 

Elijah moved inside her, thrusting in and out at a steady pace, while she rolled her hips into his with every one of his movements to create the most powerfully wonderful pleasure. They moved together in perfect sync as their mouths moving in time with the motions of their hips, taking the pleasure even higher in intensity. 

He loved how Eternity moaned into his mouth and the way her hands came to frame his face as they kissed. He held onto her as well, with one hand cupping the back of her head and the other bracing against the small of her back. 

It felt like it was to last forever, this dance of passion. Elijah didn’t know how long they moved in time together, in perfect rhythm, but the peak took it’s time coming around, letting him enjoy the pleasure they had created to his leisure. They rocked together, slowly at first, but soon, at a much faster pace, as they languidly climbed higher and higher in pleasure. 

Then after a long while, as their bodies gleaned with sweat and they started to pant with exertion, Eternity’s walls began to flutter around him, signaling the end was near. He rolled them over, so that she was beneath him, as he began to thrust into her harder and faster than before, ready to bring them both to completion. 

Their joint orgasm came swiftly after he did this. His wife’s walls clamped down on his cock as she cried out into the room with his name upon her lips. It triggered his own end and in a few hard thrusts, he was coming, filling her completely. Once he emptied himself, Elijah slumped on her as gently as he could muster due to his lady’s delicate condition. He tucked his face into her neck as he rested there against her.

After a time, Elijah rolled off of her and turned on his side with his head propped up on his hand. He lazily tracked patterns upon the skin of her stomach, where their child was growing, as he gazed at her intensely. 

“You know, I remain very angry with you for what you did, Sweetheart,” he told her gruffly. “However, I will pardon you this once, as your intentions were good. Make no mistake, though. If you ever put yourself or our unborn child at risk again without my consent or knowledge, I will not be so kind. Do you understand me?”

Eternity nodded, “Aye, I won’t. I promise.”

Elijah smiled lovingly at her then, “Good.” 

Then he turned mischievous, “Although, I still have the strangest impulse to issue some sort of spanking, regardless of your pardon.” 

She giggled and shook her head at him.

“Yes, I do believe such is required,” he growled playfully and then kissed her lips tenderly. “Come here, Sweetheart.”

With that, Elijah proceeded to take his lady all over again and again and again, until daybreak.

Afterwards, once they were both quite satisfied and rested, they rose from the bed and got to work to ensure their ensure were in fact gone for good...together.

The End

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Tag List: @elejah-wonderland @dendrite-lover @inmylifeilovedthemall @elejahforever @xanderling @hawaiianohana15 @missnmikealson @phoenix-potter-bailey @lolelijahishot @x-memi12 @iamaquarius2 @echosnowflake666 @scarlettsky0998 @zillahvathek @elijahandkollover @mikaelsonwetdreams @elizamonet

[yukiwrites]

Polar Opposites, Yet Still In Love

Thanks for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse​! This was so much fun to write I got carried away, heehee! I hope you like it!

Summary: Vaike was regarded as a hero once he came back home after the war, and now he and Miriel are going to live out the rest of their days in his birth home -- a tiny village far from Ylisstol. Miriel still struggles with the matters of the heart, but she does have a very passionate companion to teach her all about love, after all.

Commission info HERE and HERE!

The final battle against Grima, the Dragon of Destruction, had been won by the sacrifice of its counterpart, Robin. Ylisse and every realm of the world were saved by a single person's sacrifice.

Yet, time would not wait for Robin's return for there was much rebuilding to be done -- many soldiers to return home so as to join the reconstruction effort; many families to be reunited after the purging war had been won.

The Shepherds were repurposed: With Chrom's rising to the throne, they would become his eyes and ears all around the realm, becoming a specialized police force, so to say. However, only those whose knightly or marital vows tied them to Ylisse stayed behind the capitol to serve this new task force -- many followed the common soldier's path of returning home to rebuild.

Vaike had been one of those people, alongside his wife Miriel. They rode side by side to the fighter's birth village, a large carriage chock-full of the mage's books and experiments following close behind.

"Ya can't wait ta meet my lil' bros and sisters, Miriel! They're gonna be so surprised when they see that their Teach single-handedly defeated the mighty-feared Grima!" He flexed, letting go of the reins to do so.

Miriel promptly held them herself she sat in front of her husband, over the same horse. She raised her brow, quickly adjusting her thin and perfectly symmetrical glasses. "Has your memory gone awry, Vaike? The one whose sacrifice was the greatest -- AND the most crucial for the outcome of the battle -- was Robin, not you. I wager you 'smashed', as you have reminded me constantly, the heads of a few Risen generals instead."

"Hey! My job was darning important, y'know! I opened the way with my trusty axe," he swirled both hands overhead, as though he carried such weapon. Miriel simply lowered her head so as to dodge the next time he swooped around, "and cleaned it all for my buddies, Chrom and Robin. Might as well have defeated the dragon m'self!"

"I fail to comprehend how such a small act amidst such a busy battle may have contributed to the slaying of our enemy, however I do admit that your words ring a sliver of truth -- it WAS indeed our combined efforts that allowed our leaders to succeed in a task once deemed impossible."

Vaike snapped his fingers, pointing his indexes as his wife. "You got it! I knew you'd come around to understanding my greatness!"

Miriel raised one eyebrow. "Mayhap you did not hear the part whence I said 'OUR combined efforts', my husband. Did the loud sounds of that battle turn you deaf? I shall have a look at it once my laboratory is set up in our new home."

"Yeahhh, about that; it's not gonna be anything 'new', you know?" He scratched the back of his head, promptly ignoring the part about him being deaf. "I'm surprised you actually followed me here to this ass-end of the realm. It's such a small village I don't think we even pay taxes."

"Improbable. The tax collectors are evenly distributed all over the kingdom, and each noble house responsible for the region has to relay the gains back to the Crown. The House managing this area would not miss out on collecting the gold from a village in its dominion, no matter how small." Miriel said categorically, turning her eyes to the barren road ahead, slowly leaning her back on Vaike's bare chest. "Addendum: I would not allow the man my heart apparently chose to leave on his own -- this promise we made," she caressed the ring he had carefully picked for her the day he proposed, "is not so easily broken. Neither are my... feelings, I suppose."

"Heh, look at you, getting all sentimental." He chuckled awkwardly, resting his chin on her head, wrinkling and folding her hat sideways. "Still a long ways to go to understand what's in there though, yeah? Ima teach you, don't worry." He slipped his hand to her waist, which brought warmth to the mage's heart.

Amused at her reaction to such a small action, Miriel placed her hand over his, a tiny smile sprouting at the corners of her lips. "I look forward to it, my husband."

"Damn it, Miriel, you supposed ta say 'Teach'!"

Once close to the slums whence Vaike was born, more and more people began to gather, making the fighter's smile grow with each new spectator.

"Brother Vaike!" A young boy yelled from a distance, "Broo!" Another one followed, his voice being mirrored by dozens others.

"Har har, da's your Teach right 'ere, folks!" He flexed once again, not being able to bear with riding any longer and quickly jumping out of the horse, leaving Miriel to guide it alone. "Look at those muscles! This flex!" He posed while laughing, the people around them yelling in delight.

"Bro!" Many a children jumped to his arms, "you did it, Bro! I knew you could do it!" They usually said as he spun them around, then threw them overhead (Miriel once again noted the invisible force pulling people and objects downwards, but hadn't had time to put it all to paper).

"This one's Yapper, that one's Rits, that over there's Lock, that's Resy," Vaike pointed at each child as they came around, introducing them to Miriel. They were the 'little sisters and brothers' he spoke so fondly of -- siblings of the street, so to speak.

Raised in the slums, they all banded together in order to increase their odds of survivability, creating familial bonds stronger than those of blood, as Miriel herself theorized after hearing the story for the first time. Still, seeing them all first hand, even the 'not in touch with her feelings' Miriel could tell that those people TRULY loved, treasured and looked up to Vaike.

They guided their horse through the streets, pushed their carriage whenever it got stuck in debris and muddy spots, and, most important of all, believed whatever Vaike told them about his overly exaggerated sploits during his years of serving the Shepherds.

They took twice as long to arrive at Vaike’s home -- renovated by the villagers themselves (with the money Vaike sent, of course) -- but once they did, his elderly mother welcomed them with open arms.

The lady could barely stand without the help of a walking crane, her old bones and gentle smile always ready for her son to come back as a hero. “My boy! I knew you could do it…” She said in a trembling voice, inviting her son who was twice her height, to hug her.

He almost crouched to wrap his arms around the fragile lady, making Miriel jump out of the horse hastily in order to be there should he accidentally break a bone or two, though it seemed unnecessary. The moment he placed his arms around the lady, he picked her up, making her sit on top of his forearm. “Ma!! I told ya I’d be back with glory behind me! AND I brought back the best woman I could find -- her name’s Miriel!”

The old lady squinted, extending her arms so as to reach out for Miriel. The mage promptly stepped forward (she put it in the back of her mind to study the reason behind such gesture -- compassion for the elderly, perhaps? Has her heart evolved so that it was already taking actions by itself without her meaning it to?), allowing her mother in law to touch her face. “Is that a beautiful mage I see? Why, Vaike, how’dya net yourself someone so smart looking like that?”

“She ain’t all about looks, ya know? She has brains even in her toes, I wager! Har har!!”

“Unlikely. The brain, as confirmed through many autopsies, is an organ located inside the skull only- ah, you meant that as an exaggeration, did you not?” She fixed her glasses, her face still full of old lady fingers while she narrowed her eyes to her husband.

“Horsefeathers! She speaks so… so well!”

“Mayhap you meant that I am eloquent, mother-in-law. I do have a larger vocabulary than the common person.”

“Oh, dear!” The old lady giggled, patting Miriel’s hat. “I think yer too much for my lil’ hero here, but please, darling… take care of him for me, will ya? The gods know how much I worry.”

Miriel felt a pang inside her heart, her eyes suddenly flickering with emotion. “How very interesting… It seems that I do know the answer for that, Vaike.” She referred to her husband despite looking at her mother in law, catching his smirk growing with the corner of her eyes.

“Ya’ve always been a fast learner. Go on, say it.” He encouraged, gesturing with his chin.

“Thank you for entrusting your son to me, Mother-in-law. I am the one always learning with him, despite all evidence to the contrary -- he is teaching me the matters of the heart. He is incapable of learning the matters of the brain, however his potential for following his emotions is bottomless.”

Vaike frowned, adjusting his mother on his arms. “Hey! Say it properly! You’re only saying bad-”

“Hush, my husband,” Miriel smiled so softly it brought a flush of red through Vaike’s cheeks. “I only meant to say that I love your son, my lady. Wholeheartedly.”

“Oh, my dear…” The lady covered her face with both hands, quickly wrapping them around Miriel’s neck. “May you two complement each other, always.”

[iminyourhandskara]

Battles Lost and Won - Karamel One Shot

A rewrite of the season 3 finale.

in this version, winn didn't leave for the 31st century and brainy goes with the legion, it is not brainiac the legion is fighting in the future. enjoy!

________________

“Well you did it. Just like a Greek myth. You went down to the underworld and slayed the three-headed monster and saved Persephone.” Mon-El approached Kara on the DEO balcony, somewhere they’ve found each other pretty often in the last few months, somewhere they shared a lot of advices and conversations only they could have. Kara smiled looking down before correcting Mon-El’s still flattering comment, “Uh, I think in the myth Persephone eats pomegranate seeds and is confined to the realm of Hades forever.”

“Yeah well that just strengthens my point because the Greek Gods have nothing on you.” He continued without missing a beat, overwhelming Kara for a second. “It was far from perfect, for many reasons but..I couldn’t have done it without you.“ He had been the partner she had always dreamed of, ever since he landed on Earth and she took him under her wing. They could understand each other so well and predict each other’s moves with a look: but that ability didn’t come from their trainings or fights together on the battlefield. Quite the opposite. “No, that’s not true. This victory was yours. And it was flawless.” Mon-El had always been so sincere when it came to complimenting Kara, she recognized his honesty by simply looking at his eyes, she swore she could still see the shadow of the boy from Daxam she loved over a year ago.

“What’s on your mind?” “Before we went to Argo, I just had this thought that I could be Kara Zor-El, ordinary citizen..I would feel like I was home. But when we were fighting Reign and the witches, I had this moment, this realization that Argo City is not my home anymore. National City is. Earth is. And my mission is to protect it. My whole life is here.” She took a breath, “Messy. Complex. Balancing Kara and being a hero, that’s…that’s who I am.” Was she satisfied with this realization, though? Was Kara actually happy to give up that girl from Krypton, because Earth had welcomed her? Because she felt like she owed something to this planet? There was no denying that she had no other choice than to be only Kara Danvers, how could she be Kara Zor-El without…

“I have loved fighting by your side. Being there through all of it, the ups and down, the particularly tough days.” Mon-El interrupted her with a broken voice, his eyes were visibly covered in tears; whatever was coming, Mon-El didn’t want to say it, and most importantly, Kara didn’t want to hear it.  “You know for a moment there, I thought that maybe this was my place. My time.”

“It is. It is.” An echo haunted both of their minds, it just couldn’t reach their lips. “But I learned some troubling things today about the future.” And finally..the dreaded words, came with a tremble in his voice. “I need to go back.“

His heart shut off, he shut out everything that anchored him to National City, giving voice only to Mon-El the Legionnaire, the Leader. “I can’t abandon the Legion or the world that I swore to protect right when they need me most.” ’Duty over happiness. Duty over love. Earth comes first. I don’t want to go. But I have to go.’

“I know you can’t. You wouldn’t be the man you are if you did, the man I admire so much.” ‘Don’t go. Don’t go. Please. I made that mistake a year ago. Don’t go. We can make it work. Don’t go.’ Looking at Mon-El and hearing what he had to say, Kara relived the day she hated the most. It was like he was repeating the same things she thought to convince herself that back then, sending him away was the right choice.

“Well I guess we both have some saving to do.” ‘There’s nothing we can do. We tried. We belong to different worlds.’ A bitter chuckle escaped his mouth, when all he wanted to do was scream. His feet started to walk away from Kara and Mon-El realized that this really was the end of their story, until he stopped in his tracks and removed his Legion Ring from his finger: “Hey. It’s about time you had one of your own”

He had her necklace, she had his ring. “Thanks.” Tears were forming in Kara’s eyes, inevitably, she almost wanted to yell at him to go away and make things easier: she didn’t want him to know how much it hurt to say goodbye once again, she didn’t want Mon-El to feel guilty of her pain, she didn’t want him to see her being so vulnerable.

“In case you ever need me.” He said so softly, like it was a dying breath, like it was his last caress on her cheek and just like that..he left. Mon-El said goodbye to the world he wished he could call his home, but just couldn’t; Mon-El simply was a piece of a game that was way bigger than him.

In the meantime, Kara cried on the balcony. The city below her feet was so loud, while she had been so quiet. Those words she couldn’t say before filled her stomach like a weight that hurt too much. Why was she back at the same point? Why couldn’t she let her thoughts come out? Why did she let Mon-El go again? Why? Why?

Kara’s elbows rested on the balcony, her hands were covering her face, her sobs barely audible when she felt a touch on her shoulder. “Kara.” “Imra?” She was definitely the person she least expected to see in that moment. “I know it’s a difficult moment, but I wrote this..you need to read it. You deserve to know all the truth.”

The Kryptonian dried her cheeks quickly, confused by whatever she meant, but thankful. “Thank you, Imra.” “You’re welcome.” She smiled before turning away, not wanting to make this more painful than it already was for Kara. “One thing..” “Yes?” “Keep an eye on him for me.” Imra nodded sadly, but determined to keep her word, she knew that the bond they shared was something she couldn’t even comprehend.

"Mom? I know you have to go back to Argo City but... can you please stay one more night? I would like to show you where I live and..I really need my mom right now.” Kara smiled at Alura, but the woman could easily see that something was broken inside of her daughter’s eyes: it didn’t take long for her to figure out what the problem was. “Of course, my dear.” The mother pulled Kara in her arms for a hug; she caressed her blond locks just like she did when she had nightmares as a child, Kara’s head rested on her shoulder as she breathed shakily. “It’s okay,” Alura consoled her, “I’m here, it’s alright.”

 Kara opened the door of her apartment, “And this..is where I live. Kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom’s on the left.” She pointed at each room. “It looks cozy in here! What do you usually do on nights like these?” “Nights like what?” “After such a big victory.” Kara laughed as she placed her purse on a chair and her glasses on the table, “I don’t really have..a tradition.” “You should have.” “I’ve only been doing this superheroing thing for a few years, I’ve had a couple of victories like this but..I never had the chance to celebrate.” The grin from her face had disappeared, after realizing that she never felt truly satisfied about those battles she had won: she always had a parallel battle lost. Alura’s voice shifted, she knew that her daughter was thinking about something heaving on her heart, “Come sit here.”

Kara chewed on her lower lip, “I was just thinking..when we beat Non and Indigo we were celebrating, until a pod crashed..and it was Mon-El’s.” “I guess it’s time to bring up that talk we mentioned back then on Argo, what do you think?” She inhaled deeply, “Then last year, we beat the Daxamites but I was more devastated than happy; we used a lead diffuser to have them retreat and I had to send Mon-El away. For months I believed I had killed him. Then it turned out, he actually hit a disruption that sent him to the 31st century and that’s where he spent seven years.. until we found his ship.” “That’s a lot to take in..” “And the worst part of it all, was that for just for one second I thought we could pick things up from where we had left them but.. he got married. Imra is his wife.” Kara had gotten so used to that word, to that phrase she pronounced many times, but it still hurt enough to make her close her eyes. “And are they still together?” “I guess, why do you ask?” “I saw them talking on the DEO balcony before, I saw them hugging but it didn’t seem like a..married couple hug.” “Mom, I appreciate you wanting to make the pill easier to swallow, but—wait. I just remembered that Imra gave me a letter to read.” “Really? What did she say?” “Not much, only that ‘I deserved to know the whole truth’, whatever that means.” “What are you waiting for? Open it!” Kara stood up and walked to take the letter in her purse, “What if I don’t want to read this? What if there’s something that hurts me written inside of this letter?” Her heart started pounding, she couldn’t bear more pain. “Then I’ll be with you, by your side.” Alura had a point, no matter what was written in that letter, Kara didn’t have to go through hurt by herself. She was going to be okay. Taking one more deep breath, she noticed a few crossed words and scribbles, she started reading out loud sitting near her mom: “Dear Kara, I’m writing this in a rush and I know we didn’t really have the opportunity to talk one on one while I was in National City and we often fought over our plans on how to defeat the Worldkillers, but I want to tell you all the things I couldn’t say or..didn’t want to say before. Just know that your example has truly shaped all of the Legionnaires into the heroes we are now, and I’m sorry if I lost sight of what we stand for when my family came in between. And finally..you probably hate the mention of the seven years Mon-El has spent in the 31st century but please, keep reading. You think you know the truth, but you only know the shell of it: when the Blight killed my sister, my parents took all their rage and fury on humans, planning on destroying Earth. This happened not long after I met Mon-El, right when the Legion was founded; we were team mates and friends, he was still suffering and mourning you, not knowing what he had to do to honor you or what you would have done in his place. We had to unite Earth and Titan to find peace, before it was too late. My father decided we had to get married. Mon-El was not in love with me, I wasn’t in love with him, but those were the rules if we didn’t want another war breaking out. Over time, my feelings became more real, and also his: that is, at least, what he wanted to think; we got used to each other but we were never truly in love. Not like you two were. For all those years I’ve seen him fidgeting with his necklace whenever he was depressed, conflicted, in a dark place. His necklace was his only anchor, it gave Mon-El hope in the most difficult times and I suspect you have something to do with it: he never told us anything about it, he’s really possessive of it. Him and I aren’t together anymore, his love for you never faded away, it’s clear to see. He still loves you with all his heart. I’m so sorry new missions got in the way and Mon-El needed to go back. I truly wanted him to stay with you: he’s different, he is happier, he seems healthier when he’s around your team at the DEO. The 31st century deteriorated him, but I promise you we will not let anything bad happen to him. Imra.”

The tears were now flowing down Kara’s cheeks, she didn’t even have the strength to say a word; she was petrified by all the words she had just read, the whole truth had overwhelmed her. Alura was just as shocked, but kept holding her daughter close. It surely wasn’t an easy bite to swallow. “Mom..I thought he moved on.” Kara managed to say through sobs, “Do you know how many times I told myself to move on and be happy because that’s what he did? How many times I had to pretend to be okay in front of them and repeat to myself that there was nothing to do?” Kara didn’t know if she had to be mad at herself, at Imra, at Mon-El, at Rao, at the whole universe that kept bringing them back together just to tear them apart again: she felt every single emotion flowing through her veins, yet she had never felt that weak. Then all at once, the realization: he had never stopped loving her. Kara had been afraid that all the words he had told her in Argo City, in that dream like garden, were just a product of an infatuation based on memories; she believed that was just a spur of the moment thing and he would’ve gone back to his wife, but now, she knew that she had fooled herself. “It’s too late now..I wasted too much time focusing on defeating Reign that I forgot to talk to Mon-El..about us. I should’ve told him to stay, mom..he would’ve stayed.” She threw that piece of paper on the floor. ”Before he left.. I- I gave him your necklace. Do you remember what you told me before sending me away from Krypton?” ”That the necklace would’ve kept you safe and I would’ve been with you in your dreams.” Her eyes closed once again, nodding, devastated. ”Mom, I loved him.” ”I know, Kara..” The brokenness in her voice had become prominent, her pauses were replaced by sobs and there was nothing Alura could’ve said that would’ve made that pain easier to handle.

The next morning, Kara hadn’t really woken up, since she hadn’t slept at all, but her alarm clock momentarily interrupted the tornado of thoughts that haunted her: it was the same cycle starting all over again. Loving someone always ended up with leaving. The regret covered all her face, Kara hadn’t let Mon-El stay. That was the thing she needed the most in that moment: someone who would stay. “I can’t leave you like this.” Alura said worryingly, she knew she had responsibilities on Argo City as part of the Council, but family came first. “No, no, you have to go. You have a city to take care of. I’ll be fine.” “Kara, please stop this.” “Stop what?” “Pretending you’re fine.” She paused, “I didn’t say I’m fine. I said I will be.” “Then let me stay until you are.” “I can’t let you stay here knowing that there’s a planet waiting for one of its leaders.” “Is this Supergirl talking? Or Kara, my Kara Zor-El?” Kara shook her head, not seeing the point in her mother’s question. “What do you mean?” “For a second, stop worrying so much about responsibility and work, stop worrying about what’s morally correct, stop caring about other people. Stop being Supergirl. For a second, be only Kara; now tell me, would you want me to stay? Until I know you’re alright?” That question opened a hole in Kara’s heart, she definitely didn’t expect such a thing: she had stopped seeing herself as “Only Kara” in the moment she put on that red cape, she had never allowed herself to see things from that perspective. Kara remembered what Cat Grant once told her, when she wanted to rescue Mon-El and Lena without hitting the Daxamite ship, “Wanting to rescue them is not selfish, it’s everything.” Feeling love, sadness, anger or wanting someone by her side wasn’t selfish, it wasn’t a favor she was doing for herself, it was everything. This was what being human was all about, it wasn’t about having a normal job and a normal life. “Yes.” With a weak voice, Kara finally replied truthfully.

It had been a week since Alura decided to stay, but since Kara was comfortable again in her daily routine, they both decided it was time to separate. “Let’s not make this more emotional than what it already is, okay? Winn is already working on a new spaceship with J’onn, but until then we have the portal.” Kara smiled, “Thank you for everything, mom.” “I love you.” “I love you, too.” They hugged each other for long seconds, before waving goodbye: Alura smiled back at her daughter and her team, which was also a second family she had loved to meet.

Obviously much time had gotten lost, but they knew now there was so much to spend ahead of the two of them, Kara had been so grateful to receive a second chance with her mom; she wished she could’ve said the same thing about Mon-El. Their second chance passed them by without realizing, one was wondering what the other was thinking, assuming they didn’t love each other anymore and their time was over. The loft was incredibly silent in that evening, a deafening silence she only noticed in the first months Mon-El was gone but then went away with time and help by her friends, whether it was a game or a movie night.

But again, Kara decided to not host those nights for a while, having to get used to loneliness once more: as she was sipping her coffee after dinner watching television, a knock interrupted the quietness; apparently, her friends were too stubborn and wanted to organize a surprise game night, or so she thought, until..she opened the door. “Hi.” Kara almost closed the door again, thinking it was a mirage, a bad prank her brain was pulling on her, but no. It was real, he was real. Mon-El was standing in front of her and she was doing absolutely nothing. except for breathing heavily. She couldn’t even get a word out, so she decided to pull him into her arms and let that do the talking. “How- how are you here?” His hands, just like hers, kept caressing her hair onto her back. “It might have been eight years, but I would never forget where your apartment is.” Mon-El smiled gleefully. “I meant here, in National City, in the 21st century.” “Oh, that! Well..Brainy dropped me here.” They finally walked into the apartment and closed the door, “Wow.” Mon-El hadn’t been in that place in eight years and he was overwhelmed, Kara smiled tearfully at that,“Come sit here.” A strange feeling of déjà-vu crossed both of them, “Tell me what happened.” “I- I don’t even know exactly what happened. All I know was that once we arrived in the future, things were different than what Brainy had told.” “But he’s never wrong, I mean, mathematically speaking at least.” “Yeah, I thought so too. But he said that the past changed because of a disruption, therefore the future had changed too. The enemy we were supposed to defeat had already been dead for centuries, because someone we both know had killed him.” “Wait, who?” “Technically, I’m not supposed to say it because it could change the future, but he has your same glyph but doesn’t wear a skirt.” Kara and Mon-El laughed like they hadn’t in months, both still not believing that they were on that couch together again. A little hesitantly, Kara asked Mon-El: “What made you..come back? I thought you said that this wasn’t your place.” Mon-El knew that that question was coming, he knew he was going to sound like a hypocrite: “In the moment I stepped back there, I realized that I didn’t belong to that place anymore. The Legion was the only thing that kept me there,but I had taught them all I had to teach. I used to call it my home because I thought that was the reality I was destined to live in. It was time to be a little selfish again, for once. Imra is the leader now, I’m not needed anymore in the 31st century. So, that’s why I’m back.” ‘It’s you, I’m here for you.’ was what he truly meant. Kara looked at Mon-El silently for a few seconds: “I..I hit that disruption.” “What?” His eyes went wide, “How?” “I used your legion ring. In the previous version of the timeline, I didn’t handle things well with Reign. I managed to kill her but..she killed my mom and..” “And?” Mon-El’s hand was absentmindedly stroking hers on her knee, something he once did every time he was worried about Kara. “And she hit J’onn too, but you pushed him out of her way. She killed you, too.” Her hand was now on top of his, her gaze lowered. Mon-El grabbed her chin, making Kara look at him. “But you’re here now.” “Now I am.” Both had learned an important lesson about time, and that was it wasn’t supposed to be wasted: his hand dropped from her chin, kissing her softly like the first time, but hunger and passion accompanied his sweetness. Kara leaned naturally into Mon-El’s hands, they were moving in a perfect synch. It was like a lifetime had passed since they last lay on that couch and their lips and tongues met, but not for their bodies that knew one another so well; their touches sent electric shocks down their spines, they could feel these wonderful sensations only when they were together. For so long they believed they couldn’t feel that way ever again, but despite all the odds, Mon-El was now carrying Kara to her bed and giggling between the kisses, high on love. That was definitely going to be the happiest night they’ve had in years. It had become so easy for them to give up on romance as superheroes, to be pessimistic and believe that the worst was yet to come; after all they had been through, thinking that happy endings weren’t meant for Supergirl and Valor had become the safest option. At the end they could see that even if it sounded like a cliché, love could find a way, love did find a way.

_________________

thank you for reading, i hope you guys liked this! i promised myself and all of you that i would've wrote something based on the finale in the moment i watched it, and two months later i finally did it! i apologise for mistakes or repetitions, let me know what you guys think in my inbox and in your reblogs❤️❤️

[bakudekuficlibrary]

Hi! I’m looking for multichapter bakudeku fics (>20,000 words) that are heavy on the angst but have a happy ending. Bonus points if the rating is mature or explicit! Thanks so much for all you do!!!

Hello! Here are all fics tagged with “Angst with a Happy Ending” and have a word count greater than 20,000 words that I could find! Lucky for you, two-thirds of them have a rating of mature or explicit! 

-Ellie

14 Works.

Quiet Rapture by lalazee ( E | 29,113+ | 8/? )

That ABO fic where cocky Alpha Bakugou falls in mate-love at first scent, while Midoriya is just a poor bookstore-owning Omega who got his nose punched in is a kid and can’t smell a damn thing. Also known as: That time an Alpha had to use his actual personalityto woo his mate instead of relying on his scent.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

Honeymoon High by Butterfree ( T | 115,021 | 18/18 )

“OI, FUCKFACE! If you think you’re just going to waltz into this fancy-ass church with your fake as shit smile and your miserable bitch of a wife while my friend is sitting on the street carrying YOUR BABY, then YOU need to step right down here SO I CAN DETONATE YOUR ASS UNTIL NO ONE CAN RECOGNIZE YOUR LYING FACE, YOU DIPSHIT EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN BEING!”

A beat of silence.

And then all hell broke loose.

It started with a ‘SLAP’ resonating from the bride who activated some quirk to maximize the pain that her ex-fiancé felt. A lady near the front fainted, knocking over the table with the wedding cake and a glass swan sculpture. The scattered remains caused the ring bearer to jump up. Her quirk accidentally activated and sent the brides’ maids into the air. A man with half white and half red hair rushed to save the statue, but ended up tripping over a power line which engulfed the room in darkness. It didn’t take long for everyone else in the building to follow.

In the midst of the glory Katsuki felt at the complete chaos, a calloused hand grabbed his sleeve. He was met with wide and curious green eyes. “Excuse me, I’m the groom. Do I know you?”

.

Fuck. He crashed the wrong wedding.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

[Abandoned] Listen to the Heart by milkcandie ( M | 25,682 | 5/? )

[will not be continued]

Katsuki wants to remake what he had demolished (broke, cut, destroyed), every little thing that he had singlehandedly set on fire and every moment that he had crushed under his foot. The past is irreparable, but when he sees Izuku, he feels like he can believe in the impossible again.

☆ A Koe no Katachi AU where Izuku is deaf and Katsuki dedicates his entire being to see him smile.

Beyond Sea and Storm by Celestialgunfireopera ( E | 38,734+ | 10/? )

Ancient curse, destined mates, kingdoms rise and fall, and through it all, two young men learning to love.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

Subject 00626: Ground Zero by LordExplodo-Angst (QueerPinoy) ( M | 43,530 | 27/27 )

In a world where Quirks are still new, it is imperative that mankind strives to understand them, a top priority, a scientific frontier like no other. At least, that’s what Dr. Midoriya thought when he chose his specification for his Human Biology degree years ago. He hadn’t questioned it until his residency at the Supernatural Ability Lab at Yuuei Institute of Research and joined the lab on Subject 00626: Ground Zero.

A most people are Quirkless, probably-unethical human experimentation AU

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | PTSD | Panic Attacks | Self-Harm]

Something Always Brings Me Back To You by odasaku (jemtessa) ( T | 32,561 | 15/15 )

It never takes too long.

Midoriya Izuku has finally transferred into the hero course at U.A. High School after he moved away. The only problem is he’s quirkless.

Inspired by the UnOrdinary WebToon

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Bullying]

Back to Reality by menengaur ( M | 39,093+ | 8/? )

Katsuki’s childhood friend disappeared when they were both seven. While everyone else gave hope, Katsuki made a promise to become the No.1 hero. If he couldn’t find Izuku, then he would at least destroy those who took him.

How will he react when Izuku returns with powers beyond what should be possible.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

flower language by Agent_Fluff ( T | 21,321+ | 7/20 )

Bakugou Katsuki is in love with his best friend. As much as he will deny it, and scream that he hates Midoriya Izuku from the top of his lungs, the proof is in the petals that bloom in his lungs.

And there’s nothing he can do about it.

2,645 Miles by mynameis152 ( M | 61,709+ | 18/? )

Izuku is a good boy, Katsuki isn’t.

Izuku is trying to face his problems head on, Katsuki is running away from his.

And on a high-stakes, cross-country road trip involving four fugitives, two oblivious tag-a-longs, a police task force, and a high risk crime ring, both Izuku and Katsuki will find not what they wanted, but what they needed.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

Of What ifs and time machines by Maru_Chan ( T | 47,765+ | 7/? )

Because the harsh reality was, that Izuku Midoriya was getting married tomorrow afternoon, and that no matter how Katsuki felt about it, there was nothing he could do to change that fact.

Or maybe there was.(Or: in which Bakugou Katsuki gets the bad end, and later gets another shot at rewriting it.)

One More Chance by Dragonbooks249 ( T | 29,022+ | 6/7 )

The raid went bad. All for One had escaped and they didn’t know. The battlefield was chaos and at the center of it all, the hero Deku and All for One battled. Izuku was able to put the greatest evil to rest once and for all, but not without a price. His partner and lover Katsuki holds the fallen hero in his arms as he breaths his last.

In a desperate attack, Katsuki launches himself at Shigaraki in an attempt to kill him.

Moments later, he awakens in his childhood bedroom, 4 years old and with a fresh start to life. It seemed perfect. Until it ends in tragedy. Now Katsuki is faced with the task of having to live multiple lives, all alongside the love of his life Midoriya Izuku. Thre is only one common thread to the way all of the lives seem to end, a single burning desire.

One more chance. Just one more chance to protect him.

One more chance.

[Major Character Death | Implied/Referenced Suicide]

Limerence by Unicookie (Kkc0) ( M | 34,538 | 1/1 )

| ˈlimərəns | n. the state of being infatuated with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterized by a strong desire for reciprocation of one’s feelings but not primarily for a sexual relationship.

In which Katsuki follows in his mother’s footsteps and hits aggressively on Izuku.

Icarus by BrightEyesEren ( M | 32,397+ | 4/9 )

“Young man, let me tell you the story of an angel born without wings.”

What’s the difference between an angel with wings and an angel without them? Between sin and enjoyment? Between living a life of purity and a life of freedom?

Izuku summons a demon by the name of Katsuki to find out.

Bad Blood Wars by Souzoshiyou ( M | 39,489+ | 4/? )

Midoriya Izuku is the only heir to the Midoriya family. Since her father runs a hospital, she’s forced to take up medicine at an early age while learning to fight red eyed beasts for the reason her father also runs a vampire slaying organization. It was supposed to be another normal day till her friends that disappeared years ago shows up and starts stacking revelations from then on.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

[bokunobaesket]

Can I have drabbles/scenarios of the GOM playing with their daughter please? It could be a range between playing house, tea party, or fairytale story where their daughter's the princess and the GoM member is the prince saving her from dragons. I thought it'd be really cute :3 Thanks (*^ -^*)

OF COURSEE!

-

Akashi:

Because he had far from a perfect childhood he tries very hard to keep a balance between work and bonding time, so when his daughter asked him to repeat Alice in the Wonderland for the third time, he sighed but relented to her command.

By the time he got to the final chapter, she yawned.

“Are you tired?” Akashi asked, setting the book aside. His daughter shuffled in the blanket and looked up at him with big eyes. He didn’t need anything else to know that the answer was no.

“I want to draw the Cheshire cat, father.” She said before excitedly jumping off the bed.

“Okay.” Akashi glanced at the clock. It was still early but he knew young children must have their rest. “Not with paint, though. It would take a while to clean up.”

“Deal.” His daughter eagerly grabbed the water colours from the table before sprawling herself on the floor. Akashi made his way towards her, his eyes shifting around the room.

The walls were lined with pictures and artwork – he wanted a reminder of every memory, every significant moment. Because he wanted his daughter to have what he never did. Love, affection, appreciation.

Akashi watched ink spill onto paper as they both individually worked on their art piece. He finished his in a short while.

“How is your art going, darling?” He asked, but earned no reply.

Confused, he tore his eyes away from his project only to see his daughter’s head on her arm and the steady rise and fall of her body.

He smiled to himself before picking her up and tucking her back in the bed.

“Goodnight, my angel. Sleep well.”

It was back to work for him now.

Akashi switched the lights off before exiting the room. Ever since he met you, everyday had felt like a blessing. Especially now that they had a daughter who he promised to give everything to.

He had everything he could have hoped for.

A family.

And he could not be happier.

Aomine:

Aomine looked down at his robes made out of old curtain and how it wrapped loosely around his pyjamas. It smelt a little odd but he had worn it for long enough for his nose to get used to the smell. Then he looked at the wooden horse next to him, rocking gently. He never fully sat on it, afraid that it was going to break from his weight.

Then finally at the little girl in front of him, with radiant eyes that sparkled as she jumped from one couch to another.

“Wait I forgot!” She stopped in her tracks and skipped towards him.

The young girl placed a paper tiara on top of her father’s head. Aomine positioned it so that it circled his head comfortably, but no matter how much he shifted it, it was made way too small for his liking.

“Now you’re a real prince!” She clapped her hands and giggled, taking her place at the top of the couch again. Then she slipped.

“I’m falling!”

Aomine’s hands were still on his paper crown, adjusting and shifting when his little girl face planted onto the floor. He choked.

“Gaaah!” He rushed over to her, picking her up.

“I’m okay!” She held her thumbs up and grinned. He let out a sigh of relief.

He wouldn’t know what to do if his daughter was seriously hurt. And he wouldn’t know how to deal with your fury.

“Again.” She declared, taking her place.

He was ready this time. He watched as she purposefully twisted her foot so that she’d fall.

Now!

“I’m falling into the- the…” She trailed off and tapped her chin as she struggled to remember the right word.

“The…” Aomine’s eyes darted around, scanning for words in his head, “The lava!”

“Yeah, the lava!”

He watched as his little girl flailed her arms around. Her eyes grew wide as she pointed at a still bolster.

“No! Watch out for the dragon, Prince Charming!”

Aomine had a bit of trouble visualizing the pale white bolster as a fire breathing dragon but he went along with it, grunting as he lurched forward, tackling his daughter onto the couch.

“Watch me slay the dragon, Princess of the… Uh… The East!” Aomine found himself shouting, grabbing a pen and stabbing the bolster repeatedly. It folded before falling off the chair it was placed on.

“Hooray!” His daughter exclaimed excitedly, jumping onto her father’s back. She too, was filled with energy and adrenaline – just like he was when he was a child. He could never just stay still.

“Hooray.” He echoed with a smile. She was his pride and joy. At first he was hesitant, but once he saw how her eyes were an eerie but beautiful reminder of yours and her hair a perfect imitation of his, there was nothing he was more sure about.

Kise:

He loved being the stay home dad because of his modelling career. Because that meant he had time to spend with his daughter. The centre of his world.

“Can I look now?” Kise opened one eye, only to earn a hard but playful slap on his head.

“No!” His daughter shrieked.

“Ow!” He complained, reaching out to rub his head only to feel her slap his hand away.

She reminded him of you, even at this young age. The adoring smile that made him so happy but also how it would disappear when things don’t go as planned.

“You’re taking longer than usual, you know.” He huffed, forcing his eyes back shut. His daughter had been playing with his hair for who knows how long – something she very much enjoyed doing.

“I’m trying something new, dad.” She said. He couldn’t see her but her voice was full of concentration.

Kise sighed, “You expect me to do the same to your hair after this?”

“Yeah, of course.” His daughter was grinning. She knew of his Generation of Miracles stories and his ‘super power’ that he was so proud of.

Then, she spun his hair around so that he was facing the mirror. He took this as a cue to open his eyes.

“This is what’s called the diamond weave.”

It never failed to amaze him how she could do such a thing with his medium length hair.

“It’s so pretty, ____-cchiii!~ I’m so proud of you!” He gushed, engulfing his daughter in a hug.

“Now you do mine dad!” She had a wide grin as she sat cross legged on the floor. “I expect it to be a bazillion times better!”

“You set way too high expectations, ____-cchi.” Kise studied his own hair in the mirror, every curve and every twist. He never wanted to disappoint his daughter.

“I only set high expectations because I believe in you.” She replied and Kise chuckled because that was something you always said to him.

“Well I’ll exceed those expectations. Every time.” He promised before starting to work on her hair.

Midorima:

“Marry me?” Midorima’s 7-year-old daughter said in a deep voice as she held a Ken doll in one hand, and a Barbie doll in another.

“Of course!” She said in a higher pitch, rocking the Barbie doll side-to-side.

Midorima watched with his eyebrows scrunched together, a confused look written all over his face.

“Now, dad!” His daughter whispered, and he snapped out of it. He picked up a toy bell the size of two fingers and sounded it. His daughter gave him a long hard look before groaning.

“Daaad! This is where you say the husband and wife part.”

“Right. Sorry, I was a little distracted.” He apologized before proceeding with the ceremony.

He cleared his throat, “Barbie, do you take Ken as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do!”

“Ken, do you take Barbie as your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do!”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Midorima finished, but his daughter was frowning.

He immediately wondered if he did something wrong.

“I don’t want to make them kiss, it’s… yucky.” She shuddered, earning a laugh from her father. He remembered what he thought of marriage and affection when he was her age.

Unnecessary.

“What do boys and girls do after marriage, dad?”

Midorima paled. You should be the one to have the birds-and-bees talk with her. Not. Him.

Mostly because he would fumble with his words a lot and would not know how to explain everything in proper terms without sounding like an awkward mess.

And the fact that his daughter just turned 7.

“Well t-they live together, li-like your mother and I.” He stated simply, adjusting his glasses frame. He cleared his throat again.

“And…” She urged.

He gulped, before standing up hurriedly. He knew you would do a much better job in his current position.

“Well, I suppose we have to find your mother now.”

Murasakibara:

The house always smelt of cinnamon, vanilla and sugar due to Murasakibara’s love for pastries and food. One day he decided that store bought snacks weren’t cutting it anymore.

He was more than ecstatic when his daughter started to show the same passion as him. His eyes gleamed when she told him she wanted to be a pastry chef as well.

“It’s tea time!” He heard a cheery call from the other room. He headed over, carrying the sweets he had made all morning.

Sometimes they would make cream puffs and tarts together before setting them on an elegant silver afternoon tea table. Then they would both take their places facing each other, surrounded by a stuffed brown bear which she called Almond, a broccoli which she called Broccoli and last but not least, a furry unidentifiable toy named Snowball.

But today she had slept in, and it was up to him to work on the treats.

“Would you like some tea, Papa?” The little girl questioned. She had a tiara on her head and a tutu skirt.

“Ah? Yes, I do. And some scones, thanks, ____.” Murasakibara said.

She placed a scone on her dad’s plate, and then on her own. She took a bite and made a sour face.

Murasakibara’s eyes grew wide at the reaction.

“Weak vanilla flavour, I don’t like this brand of milk and you need more sugar, dad.” Her eyes were closed as she swirled the food around in her mouth.

Now normally, if anyone said that to him, his response would be

“I’ll crush you.”

But since it was his daughter, his eye only slightly twitched before he pushed himself off the chair.

“Are you challenging me to another cooking competition?” He questioned. He was sure he put exact ingredient servings.

“Bring it on!” His daughter declared, getting up on her feet too. “Race you to the kitchen!”

She made a quick dash before Murasakibara could reply. He ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled. She was a lot to handle, especially for a lazy bum like him. But he wasn’t at all troubled, not even one bit.

He tied his hair up into a ponytail, which reflected that he was getting serious before following his daughter into the kitchen. He saw how she had already gathered her ingredients into a small circle on the counter. The ingredients she had assembled told him that there would be a lot of cleaning up after this.

“Get ready to lose again, dad!” She exclaimed.

“Me? Lose?” He pointed to himself, “We’ll see.”

The score was 3-2, not in his favour.

They both didn’t like losing.

Like father, like daughter.

Kuroko:

“Number two, go, go, go!” The young girl squealed, flapping her hand everywhere to get the fur ball to move.

Kuroko’s ears perked up at the sound of his daughter’s voice echoing throughout the hallway. His lips tugged into a small smile.

Number two spotted him and wagged its tail, barking cheerily as it ran towards him. Kuroko placed his pointer on his lips, and the dog quieted down.

“Where could ____ be, Number two?” He wondered out loud.

A stifled giggle followed.

He wasn’t sure why the young girl liked this game so much. She could never stay hidden for more than 30 seconds, but sometimes he would drag the game out longer for her entertainment.

He tiptoed towards her hiding place and thought he saw something flash to his side. He took a momentary glance but saw nothing. Kuroko took a rapid final step, “Got you!”

And how confused he was when there was no one behind that corner.

“Got you.” Kuroko jumped at the voice behind him.

“I … didn’t see you there.” He stated.

“I know. I read your books.” The little girl had a smile as she held up books on magic tricks and lines of vision.

In that moment Kuroko felt nothing but pride and happiness. He had never, ever been startled by anyone – especially because he would always notice them before they noticed him.

“You didn’t get to catch me this time. Are you proud?” She was smiling from ear to ear.

Number two chimed in with a bark and a tail wag. She picked him up.

Kuroko patted his daughter’s hair, “Yes. I am. Very, very proud, in fact.”

[thewarriorandtheking]

Return To Me

*First chapter of The Warrior and The King - Book Two. Read the complete Book One and first seven chapters of Book Two on AO3* archiveofourown.org/users/akdogdriver 

It was a beautiful spring day, a slight breeze blowing in the open window, the late afternoon sun warm with the promise of summer soon to come. Thorin was at his desk trying to compose a delicate letter to his cousin Dain. He was working in one of the old guard rooms above the gates of Erebor. Years ago after the Battle of the Five Armies Kaylea Wolf used the room as an office when she was helping with the reconstruction of Erebor, she said she needed a window to help her think. Thorin had spent so much time in the office that he continued to use it, even after his much larger office near the forges was cleaned up and refurnished. He would never had admitted it but he had become used to having the window. Gloin and Fili were with him, going over reports from the new works in the Misty Mountains.

Gloin looked up, something out the window had caught his eye. “Rider coming in,” he said absently.

Thorin grunted, not looking up from his letter. “Must be the envoy from Dain,” he said. “Early. We weren’t expecting him for two days.”

“No, it’s a man,” said Fili, squinting at the incoming rider. “From Rohan, by the look of the horse.”

“Looks more like an Elvish horse,” said Gloin, turning back to his paperwork.

Thorin was only half-listening, trying to find the most diplomatic way to make a request of his cousin. He did not want to leave it to a scribe.

Fili looked again at the rider, thinking he seemed familiar somehow, though he was still too far away to make out much detail. He saw something moving along the banks of the road, then it crossed from one side to the other behind the horse.

“He has a big dog with him,” Fili frowned, why did that seem so familiar?

Thorin dropped his quill and stared at his nephew. “What did you just say?”

Fili looked at Thorin. “He has a big dog…” his voice trailed off, his eyes going wide.

Thorin jumped up, knocking his chair backward and grabbed the spyglass he kept on his desk. He was at Fili’s side in an instant, the glass to his eye. He studied the rider for a few seconds then handed the glass to Fili and disappeared out the door.

Gloin and Fili looked at each other, neither needed the glass to know who the rider was.

Thorin hurried down the steps to the front gate, telling himself not to run. She was still a ways off, he had plenty of time to get to the gate before she arrived. The gate guards snapped to attention as he approached, Thorin ignored them. The gates were still open as the sun was not yet down, Thorin strode out and across the bridge. He made himself stop there, though he badly wanted to continue down the road. It had been almost 11 years since she had last ridden out of Erebor, had she changed? Though his life was much different now his love for her remained as strong as ever, seeing her brought back all his feelings with an intensity that felt as if it would crush him. His heart was pounding in his chest, waves of emotions hitting him one after the other - pure joy, uncertainty, anticipation. When Kaylea Wolf reined in her horse in front of him his heart soared as he met her icy-blue eyes. Feeling that familiar thrill run through his body was so sweet he could taste it. She was unchanged, the same travelling clothes, the same wolf, the only thing different was her horse.

Kaylea dismounted and took a knee before him, bowing her head. “My king,” she said.

Thorin smiled and stepped forward, offering her his hands. As she put her hands in his and drew herself up he felt the familiar sensation of sparks running over his skin, his heart felt as though it skipped a beat. Thorin had to will himself to keep still, all he wanted to do was take her into his arms, but he knew he could not do that in full view of his subjects watching from the gate. And if he started kissing her he would not be able to stop.

“My lady,” Thorin said, still holding her hands. “It gladdens my heart more than you know to see you again.”

Kaylea smiled. “I hope you had not given up on me, my king.”

Thorin shook his head. “I had your word you would return. I had hoped it would be before this.”

Kaylea nodded. “I have been trying to get back since I left. Finally I am here.” She squeezed his hands. “You look well.”

“As do you, my lady.” The two of them stood looking at each other, Thorin holding her hands in his. He had remembered in his minds eye how beautiful she was, but seeing her in front of him again took his breath away. Like some goddess stepped down to earth, her chiseled features, her long golden hair. She was little changed, not a day older, her clothes were the same, in her hair were the braids that matched his own, mithril beads shining in the last of the sunlight, inside the neck of her tunic he could see the chain he had given her.

Kaylea could not believe the joy she felt at seeing Thorin again, she had not realized just how much she missed him until he was standing before her. He was both younger and taller than when she had seen him last. His head was now even with the bottom of her nose, his hair raven black without a touch of grey. He looked like a Dwarf of 80, not one pushing 210, the boosterspice had made him a true heir to Durin the Deathless it seemed. Kaylea was glad to see he had kept his beard short, in fact it looked even shorter now than she remembered. She couldn’t wait to feel it against her body again, the thought sent a tingle up her back. Kaylea wanted so badly to kiss him but she could see he was holding himself back so she held her ground.

Kaylea ran her thumb over the back of his left hand, feeling his wedding ring. “And you are now married.”

Thorin nodded. “To a princess of Ered Mithrin. I have a son, and she is again with child.” He looked at Kaylea closely, wondering how she would take this news, but her face was unreadable. “She is a good friend and a valuable counselor.”

“A good friend?” Kaylea asked, shaking her head. “I am sorry to hear that, my king. I hoped you would find love with the mother of your child.”

“My heart belongs to you, my love,” Thorin replied. “As I told you, it always will.” He felt a sudden tightness in his chest, his heart sinking. He shifted his hands, bringing them up to interlace his fingers with hers. “And you? Have you found...another?”

Kaylea gave him a radiant smile, meeting his eyes. “I lost my heart a few years back,” she said. “To a homeless king who had this crazy plan to slay a dragon.” Thorin smiled, feeling a great sense of relief flood over him, he had not realized he had been holding his breath. They stood looking at each other for a long moment, holding each other at arms length each desperately wanting to close the distance between them.  

“If we stand here much longer Fili is going to come out and tell me I am not behaving as a king should,” Thorin said, smiling ruefully. Kaylea laughed.

“Let me care for my horse, my king,” she said, slowly letting go of his hands. “It has been a very long ride today. Then we can catch up.” She winked at him.

Thorin smiled back. “Of course, my love. I am sure you would also like to wash up after your ride. I will have your quarters prepared. Do you still remember your way?”

Kaylea looked at him questioningly. “My quarters? Where I stayed before?”

Thorin nodded. “They are your apartments, my lady. None stays there but you.”

Kaylea chuckled, shaking her head. “That seems like rather a waste of space,” she reached for the reins of her horse and they went together into Erebor.

As Thorin had predicted Fili was standing just inside the gate, his face full of concern. Gloin was with him, and several other Dwarves Kaylea did not recognize. She greeted the members of Thorin’s old company warmly then led her horse down the side passage to the stables. Hector came trotting in as well, looking from side to side as he followed her.

Kaylea unsaddled Hadrian and rubbed him down. She gave him a measure of grain and went over how he was to be cared for with one of the stable boys as she gathered her things. At least the stables had been enlarged and there were stalls that could accommodate horses now. Indeed the kingdom looked very prosperous, with new gates and improvements made to the main halls. There were many Dwarves and Men moving through the Hall of Kings, the sounds of business echoed around the chamber. Thorin had done well. And he had an heir, so his kingdom was secure. Kaylea had to admit she was secretly glad Thorin was not in love with his wife. If he had been she would have bowed out gracefully, but she would be lying to herself to say it would have been easy. Seeing him again had brought back all her feelings for him in a rush, she felt as if she loved him more than ever. She found herself looking forward to the evening, hoping Thorin was not going to keep up appearances and stay away. Judging by her welcome, she did not think that would be the case.  

Kaylea found her quarters newly renovated, with a larger bed, new furniture, rugs and wolf decorations scattered around. There was even a proper bathroom now, with running water. A fur bed had been provided for Hector, who sniffed at it and curled up where he could watch the door instead. Kaylea tried out the bathroom first, it felt good to get the road dust off, it had been a long ride from Mirkwood today. She had just pulled her tunic over her head when she heard Thorin’s soft knock on the door. Not wasting any time then, she thought with a smile. She took a deep breath before opening the door, she felt nervous as a schoolgirl, her stomach full of butterflies. She opened the door and Thorin quickly stepped inside, he already had his hands on her waist as she closed and locked the door. Kaylea turned in his arms and leaned back against the door as Thorin put one hand behind her head to draw her mouth down to his. Kaylea relaxed into his arms, relishing the taste of him, the feel of his beard tickling her face. She had forgotten how good it felt to kiss Thorin, that smell of frankincense, the taste of rain on earth, how all her cares vanished and she felt like everything was right in the world. They kissed each other for a long time, their hands moving over each other’s bodies, reacquainting themselves.

“How I have missed you,” Thorin said, when he finally pulled back to look at her.  

“I have missed you more than I can say,” Kaylea said, holding him close. “I have missed this.”

Thorin gave her a wicked smile. “I won’t be finished with you for hours,” he said, biting her on the ear, then the neck. He moved back to step out of his boots. “Let us move somewhere more comfortable.”

Several hours later, Thorin lay curled against Kaylea’s back, his arm around her waist, the smell of her filling his senses. He kissed the curve of her neck. Thorin found it strange, they had not seen each other in ten years but once they were together it was like she had never left. He brushed her hair aside to rest his face on her neck.

“How long can we stay in this bed?,” he asked.  

Kaylea smiled. “You are the king, you tell me,” she replied.

Thorin chuckled. “I am not expecting Dain’s envoy for two days, so we can stay until at least tomorrow.”

“Will not the queen wonder where you are?” Kaylea asked, turning her head to look at him.

“She is away in the Ered Mithrin visiting her family, my love.”

Kaylea frowned. “I thought you said she was with child.”

Thorin sighed, really not wanting to talk about his wife. “She is. She does not trust the midwives here, my son was born in the Ered Mithrin this child will be as well.”

Kaylea frowned. “I think I will need an explanation,” she said. She started to roll over, but Thorin tightened his arm to stop her.

“We have not seen each other in years. Can our first conversation be about something other than my wife?” Thorin sighed. “I did what you told me to do, what everyone told me to do and, much as I hate to admit it, it was the right thing. Is that not explanation enough?”

“Very well, your majesty,” Kaylea said, with a smile. “We can talk about it later.”

Thorin kissed her neck again, her shoulder, he could not get enough of the taste of her. He felt like the man who finds water when dying of thirst in the desert.

“Why are you here, my love?”

Kaylea wriggled against him, smiling. “To see you, of course.”

Thorin slapped her playfully on the butt. “You know what I mean! Why are you here in Middle Earth? Why now?”

Kaylea took a deep breath, suddenly serious. “To observe the progress of the Enemy. To go to Mordor and see how his plans progress.”

“Then I am going with you,” Thorin said.

Kaylea turned her head again to look at him. “My king, it is far too dangerous.”

“Is that supposed to make me not want to go? If you think you are going to show up after all this time and I am going to just let you ride into Mordor by yourself, you are sadly mistaken.”

Kaylea rolled over to face him. “This journey may take months, my horse cannot bear us both all that time. And I doubt your kingdom can spare you.”

“My kingdom will be fine, Fili can manage it almost as well as I,” Thorin replied, fingering one of the beads at the end of her braids. “And I have my own horse. A gift from the Rohirrim.”

“The Rohirrim gave you a horse?”

Thorin smiled, remembering. “It happened as part of a weapons deal. They said I was the tallest Dwarf they had ever seen, they thought it was amusing so they gave me a horse. She is perhaps too small for the men of Rohan, but very fast.”

Kaylea sighed. Now that she was here she did not want to leave Thorin, but taking him to Mordor was very unwise. She decided to try to buy some time. “I do not have to leave right away. Let me think about it.”

“Think about it all you want, I am going with you,” Thorin replied, smoothing her hair away from her face. “And when we get back from Mordor you can marry me.”

“You are already married.”

“I have an heir now, I can be unmarried.” Kaylea just shook her head.

“I cannot marry you, I told you that before,” Kaylea met his gaze. “You are just not going to take no for an answer on this, are you?”

“I am not, my love,” Thorin replied. “There must be some way it can be done. Perhaps I could spend some of my time in your land and you could spend some in mine.”  

Kaylea smiled, shaking her head. “You do not know what you are asking, my king.” She drew him close and kissed him. She wished with all her heart she could take him back with her, but her lord would never allow it. He might allow one of his Elven kindred to travel about the Empire, but never a Dwarf. And Thorin had a kingdom to look after.

“Then tell me what I am asking,” said Thorin, not willing to let the matter pass. “Are things so different in your land?”

“They are very different indeed,” Kaylea replied. She wrapped her arms around him. “A conversation for a another time, my king.”

[baronofborhswald]

By Our Blood.

It was a grim day of melancholic skies mixed with a downpour which could accumulate enough flood water to wash away a small grouping of crops within the valley in which Borhswald was located. Luckily walls were constructed for such an occasion: Large stone walls draped with banners of both Ravenblud and Blackfyre each flanking the main gates of the large fortress. Much like the strong walls of Borshwald, keeping back the flood waters, the Baron of these gifted lands held back a flood of a different kind....

Oklin sat in his study near a large dual pained window, watching the rains beat against his land with the ferocity of a scorned elemental. A pallid visage hung upon the man as if he was visited by a specter of one kind or another, which was more to the truth of the situation than any other possible reasoning for such a distraught state to befall him. For in one hand he held a book a which was bound in leather with small green leaves imbedded in its’  surface as if grown in to it. Now to the observer this would come as a regular book found in a library, to Oklin however it was a tome that which cast a grizzly menace upon him. In this “book” was the legend of ancestor of his, one to which he could trace all of his current misfortune to. This was the tale of Romik the Wanderer, First of his name and founder of the Ravenblud family. An old tale by admittance but one that his father found important to transpose in those old tattered pages.

Romik’s story began back before the invasion of Gilneas, back before the unification and opening of the Dark Portal. It was a time of the tribes of humans that would one day go on to form the pillars of their respective kingdoms. It was a time of the fear of darkness and prolonged victory of iron over flesh. In these times Romik took his first steps on a journey that would echo through the very blood of his descendants. 

Metal cracked against metal in the setting sun in Arathi. A large muscular silhouette could be made out fighting one of similar size. As the two persons forced blade against blade, their sparks minimally illuminated their faces. One was gaunt within the cheeks while holding a prominent brow, the other held a jawline that could have been chissled from stone with a scruffy unkempt beard that made it’s outline clear, this was Romik. Two warriors who have met in the fields of battle in a desperate attempt to claim but a small bit of food. A wild potato that each seemed to covet despite the health held in their faces. As the clash continued towards  dusk , Romik cut down upon the gaunt faced one’s wrist. A sickening crack was heard as the bone broke before the hand was taken away from the rest of the arm. With this the gaunt faced man took to a knee whilst grasping the now stub. Romik spoke. “Stand down tribesman. You have been beaten. I will offer you the mercy of a swift death instead of the one you shall receive from your wound.” Romik raised his blade towards the sky as he pressed a booted foot against the other man’s chest, pushing him on to his back. “W-wait!” Said the other. “S-Spare me and I shall tell you of a land that holds many riches....” A soft submissive smile crept upon the downed man. Romik put his blades’ tip to the chest of the man, it was bare. “I seek no riches coward. Only something more worthy than you to slay.” He pressed the tip against the mans’ chest, drawing a bit of blood. “O-Oh you will! You will! I...I promise you will! Just listen to me! South of here lies a village that worships some sort of deity from the sea! I have seen it!” Romik let the blade drink a little of the drops of blood before pulling it away. “Described it to me.” The other man cleared his throat. “Well it is umm...large...has...has four arms with webbed fingers on each. Swear it could call upon a storm with just a blink of its serpent like eyes.” Romik tilted his head at this description and laughed. “Oh you poor pathetic coward. You believe me to be a fool enough to think such a thing exists?” Again his blade is brought to the chest. “Yes! I have proof!” Slowly the man reached to a pocket, while he was still bleeding out, on his belt. Swiftly he pulled out a few gleaming scales of a serpentine quality. “See! These are larger than a snakes! It is a monster! A mon-” Romik shoved his blade in to the man’s chest fully, silencing him. “Hmph.” Leaning down he picked up the scales and pocketed them. “I shall make the journey...friend.” Romik spat on the man, then walked off on to his path south.

The long journey to the south was all but an enigma for our “Hero”. Going in a direction in hopes of finding this creature to which he could do battle with. Only a few villages had he passed before the land became unknown to him. Green vines wrapped around ancient ruins while great tropical trees grew to form shade over this great jungle. Romik only took note of what beasts he had spied while on his path, none that made him venture off of it to do battle with, even less made an attempt on him. He figured not much but these beasts existed here, he was of course wrong. With a chilling battle cry in another language besides what Romik understood, he soon came under attack from a small group of forest trolls. A people he had encountered before in only small skirmishes along Arathi. Gritting his teeth and raising his weapon to defend himself , Romik was met with a hale of blows from a lead troll with a red wooden mask and two axes. Staggering from the attack, which now left Romik’s side open, the man could only watch as another of the war party swung a club to crack bone. Tensing at the impact then falling to a knee while holding his weapon which was still locked with the axes, Romik pressed hard against the ground to use his legs to press upwards until he could finally bring foot to groin. An action which sent the lead troll backwards from the impact, but not before Romik could snatch away one of the axes to which he brought down upon of the club troll’s head. Feeling the rush of battle from the embrace of the scent of blood mixed with the sweat of heat, the man pressed himself forewords to shoulder check the already stunned troll. Bracing himself for a reprisal which never came due to the shear luck of a fallen branch with a  sharp enough point to which the troll fell upon. After the battle was over with ,and Romik made sure that there were no more surprises, he took a rest. “This was worth my time already.” He said while examining the axe he had taken which had small symbols of snakes upon it. “Not bad craftsmanship.” Romik grunted as he slipped the handle of the axe between his belt and waist. “Now to continue on.” Romik stood as he sensed he was close to his goal. In this regard he was correct.

 Now the finale part of the story takes place upon Romik coming to an idol upon a sandy beach. One that bared the resemblance to the creature the gaunt faced man spoke of. “So he was telling me the truth.” Romik said while he walked up to the statue, letting his fingers lip over the material which felt like metal. “I do not see life in it though? Maybe he saw it one night while delusional.” The man took out the scales and threw them to the base of the idol, disgusted by his lack of reward or trophy for his long journey. “By the bloody bones of those I slew. I curse you wretched idol! For your false promise of glory!” Romik took out the troll axe and sent it sinking in to the head of the idol, cracking it nearly in half. He left the axe in it. “Damn this place!” He kicked up the sand without noticing the dried blood which was on the axe come back to form and drip down on to the scales which were made in a way of an offering. Dissatisfied he began to walk on his path back to the northlands in hopes of finding a better gain. Violently and suddenly a voice that shook the sand to separate while bringing waves to crash against the shore. “Who dares to defile my shrine!?” This unnatural and hideous voice said. Bubbling and oozing the sea foam brought rise to the figure as described by the man. Blue of scale and atrocious to behold. A witch by name would not compare to this creature. “I, Romik, bloodied and feeder of carrion do! I have come to seek glory for my name, ancestors and descendants!” He said with an arrogant tone. The sea beast hissed at him once he turned to face her. “Then you shall pay with something worse than the common death to which I would give as a mercy.” She slowly raised her hands above her head and chanted. “Oh defiler of my shrine. Let your bloody legacy shine. When all whom your name does serve in time. Will find themselves brought to suffocate in the brine. Death in you is all they shal-” Thunk. As the sea beast cast her curse upon him, Romik took the liberty of throwing the axe in to her chest in order to split her heart asunder. Unfortunately all this was for naught. A curse was set upon him and his name. One that affects it to this day.

Romik drearily began his long journey back north. A dread sensation over him as he could feel the emptiness created by the utterance of the chant. Later he would find himself a family, a wife to which he swore his love to...

Oklin pressed his hands over his ears as if blocking something out. With haste he takes the book in hand, and with grief stricken reprisal, throws it through the window. Shattering the glass to make an almost calming melody.

“It is but a story. All it is...all it ever has been is a story.” Oklin looked out the broken window to the ground below. “My reaction to it says otherwise.” He rubs the bridge of his nose then draws the curtains. “Father never lied to me though.” The Baron said to himself as he took a seat once more. “No, he would never...it couldn’t.” He presses his hands against his eyes, little droplets drip from behind them. “Actions speak louder than words.” He somberly whispered to himself as the rain poured on down, washing away the history written in the now ink seeping book.

[lilacmoon83]

Once Upon a Snowing

AN: I got this idea from a headcanon post here on tumblr about the Vikings being so impressed with Snow that they paid her tab without complaint and now they're friends. When Charming finds out, he's taken aback at first, but then realizes that of course his wife would make friends with scary vikings. So he goes to meet them with her and Snow gets the feeling that her husband would look really good dressed like a viking. Once Upon a Snowing Asgard

Vikings. His wife was friends with big, scary, gruff vikings. He was taken aback at first, but upon further thought, he realized it was exactly the kind of thing she would do. Those big, scary vikings didn't stand a chance against his wife's charms.

Being able to hit the bullseye perfectly every time while inebriated was an impressive feat, indeed, so it was no wonder that the vikings took notice and she gained their respect with one throw of a knife. And now, he was accompanying her on a date night to Aesop's for drinks, darts, and billiards. Just a night out with Snow was appealing so he didn't really care what they were doing. Neal was in the very capable hands of Emma and Henry and they were off.

His wife looked beautiful, as always in a flattering white blouse and dark wash jeans. He had opted for jeans as well with a button down shirt and his favorite leather jacket. He opened the door of his truck for her and they joined hands, as they went inside the establishment. Aesop smiled when he saw her and they approached the bar.

"Welcome back. This must be your husband? I heard that the curse was finally broken," he greeted. David offered his hand and Aesop shook it. "David," he said. "Aesop...so two of my specialty drinks?" he asked. "Yes...they are so good, honey," she told him, as he poured them. "Your Majesty," a voice said, as they turned and David was impressed to see a group of very large vikings bowing respectfully to his wife. "Gentlemen," she said, raising her glass to them. He took his glass and they joined hands, as the approached them. "Erik, Bjorn, this is my husband David," she said. They seemed to be the leaders, as the others stayed back. "Charming, this Erik and Bjorn," she introduced. "I don't remember the names of the others," she whispered to him with a wince and he grinned. "Yes..the Dragonslayer…" Erik said with reverence. "Dragonslayer?" David whispered to her. She smirked. "I missed you and might have talked a lot about you while we were playing pool. Besides, you did slay a dragon," she reminded. He smirked and put his hand out, shaking hands with them both. "A pleasure to meet you," he said. "The pleasure is ours. Your wife is an extraordinary woman," Bjorn praised. He smiled and caressed her beautiful face. "She is that," he agreed fondly, as they noticed the two were still staring at her husband.

"Is something wrong?" Snow asked. "We're apologize, Princess," Erik apologized. "And I told you to call me Snow," she corrected. "It's just...your husband bares such a remarkable resemblance to a bit of a legend in our culture," Bjorn stammered. "Yes...if I didn't know better, than I would swear I was looking at the great Fandral. He was a valiant warrior and fought with the mighty Thor himself," Erik explained. David's eyes widened. "You've been to Asgard?" he asked. "Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that part. Before they ended up in the Land of Untold Stories, they lived in Asgard," Snow replied, as she regarded her husband. "So he really looks like Fandral?" Snow asked them. They nodded. "They could be twins," Bjorn answered. "Mmm...well then Fandral must be very handsome," Snow said, gazing at her husband fondly. He smiled back and pecked her on the lips, just as Erik unsheathed one of his daggers.

"Let's see if your aim is as good as your lovely wife," Erik said. Charming smirked and took the dagger. He threw it and hit the bullseye, causing cheers all around. She smirked, looking on with pride, as the vikings took to him much as they had her.

~*~

The next hour was quite amusing, as she and Charming competed with them at darts and then pool. By now, they were both feeling the effects of Aesop's concoctions. Seeing Charming in one of the viking helmets was both funny and kind of a turn on. She watched him throw another knife and hit the target, which was met with more cheers, as he hurried toward her. "No wonder you liked hanging out with these guys. They're a riot," he said, as he stumbled a bit, but she kept him upright and giggled.

"They are and so are you when you get tipsy," she mentioned. He put his hands on her shoulders. "Snow...we should visit Asgard!" he exclaimed. "As good as I think you'd look in viking armor, I'm not sure that's possible," she said. "Erik said it is. We could visit and then come home. Remember, we talked about a second honeymoon," he reminded. She looked at him and despite his inebriation, she could tell he was serious. "You want to take a second honeymoon to Asgard?" she asked incredulously. "Come on...we're being invited! To Asgard! ASGARD! It could be a second honeymoon slash family trip," he slurred. She laughed. "Honey, as much as I'd really like to see you in that viking armor, there's no way we could ever convince Emma to come," she reminded. He deflated slightly and then perked up again. "Maybe we can't, but Henry can. You know he'd jump at the chance to visit Asgard. I mean...it's Asgard!" he exclaimed. She laughed and kissed his cheek.

"Okay...well if you still feel the same in the morning, we'll talk about it," she replied, as they kissed and it quickly started to turn passionate. "Mmm...what do you say we say goodbye to the boys and go somewhere to be alone?" she suggested. "Mmm...yes please to that," he purred. "Just let me give Bjorn his helmet back," he added, but she stopped him. "I'm sure he won't mind if you keep it," she purred, as she gave him a sultry look. He grinned and they put their arms around each other. And with a quick goodnight to their new friends, they hurried out. They were both too tipsy to drive, but fortunately, everything in Storybrooke was within walking distance, including their home...

[garavant-temple]

The Diary of a Professional Kidnapper

The Alcoholics Wife.

Nurldunt, Third quart of Erisson, 1148 ACR

Today I stole somebody. Well, I guess stole is the wrong word. Stole suggests that there was no payment given for it, when in fact there was.

About a fortnight ago, the wife a supposedly wealthy patron of the Land found herself on my doorstep, asking for a way to see if her husband was the slime ball she thought he was. She was in what she thought would be considered peasant's clothes but she was Middle Class at best. It was an unusual request, but I agreed anyway. Only desperate people show up at my doorstep, and I could tell by the deep crease in her brow that she was indeed at the end of her tether.

You see, I run a debt collection agency, given to me by two brilliant men. Over the last 6 or so years, I've expanded into performing different services, helping people with no other options than to crawl the gutter that leads them to my house. I've had some cases that have had me running around the Plains just to find a thief and retrieve a single item. This was the thing. I had a reputation of being exceedingly good at getting what I want.

I get a variety of things as payment for my services. For the debt collecting side of business, it's usually money or precious jewels, something of universal value. The more obscure cases however tend to produce more exotic rewards. The rarer and the more unique, the quicker I would be inclined to get a job done. I accept everything from original manuscripts of plays to the secrets of several kings to even nearly extinct creatures and impossible to get plants. More valuable than anything found in these lands, are treasures retrieved from Urf. These had a special worth, as travel between the Realms was becoming more and more restricted. However, most of the pieces I collect are purely of interest for there is one thing I wish to own more than any other; the name my parents bestowed on me.

The payment offered in return for my spying on Lord Slime ball was a tour of their manor. From that, I was permitted to take what I fancied. I liked deals like that. While I might not know what I was getting in return, it was a secure deal on both sides. And security is precious.

I invited the woman in, apologising for the smell of death that comes with living between a butchers and a funeral directors. I sat her down with a cup of Gumlon and perched myself on the chair opposite.

"So, dear, what makes you suspect he's cuckolding?" I asked.

"I don’t suspect anything. I know he is a filthy lowlife." She scorned between sips of her tea. "I just can't get him to admit it. He says I imagine it all, that I'm jealous. The ladies think that I should ignore it. I almost did, until I heard one of their shrill giggles echo through my halls."

I found it odd she didn't look at me once during the slaying of her husband and friends. She just glared out of the window at any passer-by's as if she suspected them of the same crime.

"I need you to follow him for me, at night."

"Why come to me? Why not do it yourself?"

She was taken aback by my comment. "Because, Mr Mallone-Devond, I am a respectable women and would much rather take responsibility for my husband's bastard sons than crawl the streets at night. At least the former would save me some dignity. Besides, I heard you're very good at finding things and taking them without anyone even knowing you were there. That is an asset I just do not have, especially when it comes to the nitty gritty."

"And what am I to do when I catch him?"

"Exactly that. Catch him, capture him, and make an example of him. I do not care how, just make sure I can see it when it happens."

With that, the lady swiftly left with a flourish of her skirts, leaving behind a ghost of perfume in her place.

I spent the next few nights observing my target. I tracked him from his manor house on the outskirts of the city to the brothel he wasted away the nights in. I'd never actually stepped inside a brothel before this, places like that repulse me. Once I had confirmed his almost nightly routine, I set my mind to the eventual humiliation. I never even thought at this point I'd be displaying him in one of my jars.

The idea came to me three days ago; a merchant transporting Urfen goods was parading Templeforth Street, showcasing his wares to the peasants and Lords alike. Until an Urfen beast broke free from its harness - I believe it's called a Camel in Urfentung, and I don't know if you've ever seen a camel run but I can assure you, it was one of the strangest things the people of Garavant have ever witnessed. So strange in fact, that my services were deemed necessary by several of the townsfolk.

I had used my jars before, for storing all my treasures in. When you're in my line of business, clutter adds up pretty quickly, and it's not just the payments. All the bookkeeping that is required takes up a whole room by itself. They're like any other jar, with a wide base, slimming towards the top before widening out again for the opening. The difference is that they're all charmed. I only have to pull out the cork and point it at what I want to trap inside. Then *shwoop*, it gets sucked in, now a much more manageable size.

This was how I intended to capture the camel. I was successful, as if for a moment I doubted I would be. It was this success that lead me to formulate the plan that lead to Lord Slime Ball's capture.

It was just a few short hours ago. I crept out of my abode just as the gates of the city were closing. I followed the Lord down his usual route to the brothel and this time, I continued to follow inside. It was far worse than anything I could have conjured. Women with spider-like limbs were straddled over the bulging stomachs of the clients. They had such a sadness in their eyes, I almost wanted to scoop them all up in my jars and set them free from their misfortunes. But I only had one jar and it was not for the sad eyed women. It was for my own client.

I pursued him down a creaky corridor, keeping my steps in time with the flickering lamp. I looked at each door on my way, counting how many cases of immeasurable sin could be happening. I happened across an open door and I regretted it the instant I didn't look away.

There was a slender man, with suave brown hair and his glasses in the teeth of one of the five women draped across him. His shirt had been torn open and buttons lay scattered across the floor amongst various items of skimpy underwear. One woman was feeding grapes into his mouth and one was wrapped around him, feeding their fingers through his oily hair. From what I could see, he seemed to be enjoying himself, laughing heartily at the sight of paid woman clamouring over him. One of those so-called ladies, with hair like a retriever, seemed to initiate the 'nitty gritty' as it were. I must have let out a noise because the man cocked his head towards me. "Oh, did you want to join us?"

A nauseous feeling followed me down the hall with the faked giggles of those women.

Lord Slime Ball’s room was in a nook around the corner, to offer more privacy I suppose. I slipped in through the jarred door barely breathing as I did so. The Lord must have heard the slight creak that announced my arrival for he slammed the door shut. I grimaced as he shimmied towards the spider sprawled across the four-poster bed, trying to be seductive as he eased himself of his clothing.

I stood for a while, in the shadowed corner of the room where candle light seemed to avoid. I hung there like a tsantsa, watching with closed eyes, the proceedings in the room. I would have closed my ears too, to save me from the pained squeals of the sad woman barely breathing under the weight of the wealthy Lord.

Then I heard a single cry. Stop.

I decided we had all had enough.

"Sir, I think that’ll do...”

A groan escaped him and he cranked his meaty neck to face me in surprise.

Without another word or a drop of remorse, I unplugged my jar. For a moment, I thought the bulbous gut of the Lord would struggle to fit within the glass confinement. I swung the jar in front of my face so that I could stare the Lord in his piggish eyes. My nose curled at the sight before me. In my haste, I had neglected to allow the lord to clothe himself first.

I was then reminded, by a long draw of breathe, that there was another in the room. She lay paralysed to the bed. She was buried so deep in the sheets that it was difficult to tell if she was still whole. Though, I could see by the frightened deer of her eyes, that this poor creature was completely broken.

She shivered as I approached. The way her skin flinched as I held out a hand told me all I needed to know. It pained me to gaze upon her insipid flesh. I found myself offering my jacket to her: whether it was out of pity or disgust, I do not know.

I exited the brothel as discreetly as I could. Of course people noticed me. It’s fairly hard to ignore a man in a well-tailored burgundy suit, swinging a jar with a man trapped inside. The fact that I am cursed with a flaming mane of ginger hair doesn’t lend to keeping a low profile either. In these parts, ginger hair is seen as a curse or a bad omen. I guess it’s quite fitting actually. Bad luck clings to me like a shadow.

When I crept back into my makeshift abode, mere moments ago, I slumped to the floor. For a while I laughed at the bizarre night I had just experienced. I kneaded my forehead, trying to make sense of what I had just done. If this had happened to anyone else, I would had sent them to the Witch Doctor, declaring their insanity as I shooed them down the street. I then collected myself and went about my business as if there was nothing uncommon about it.

I found a dark corner of my jar room and hung the lord there. I pushed the jar and sent him like a pendulum, much to my amusement and less to his.

I don’t exactly know why I decided to scrawl all this down in my journal. It just glimmered at me from the corner of my desk. I stroked its emerald spine tenderly. I had to fight back the tears of nostalgia as I slowly creaked open the cover. It had never been used, save the inscription penned on the second page. I read it for the thousandth time and a smile crept across my lips.

A few heavy moments of deliberation passed before I finally picked the old fountain pen that had been left behind with the journal.

Though looking back now, at the state of my rooms, I probably should have reordered my priorities. A lady will be at my door shortly after dawn and my house is in no state for such a guest.