#slow dancing in a burning room

[tragedybunny]

Slow Dancing In a Burning Room - Chapter 1

༺Summary༻

In a moment of weakness, Serafina helped Astarion ascend, forever altering him and their relationship. Irrevocably bonded in violence, can she survive life at his side, or will she be broken by the cycle of pain and terror.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav)

༺Warnings༻ Dubcon / Noncon elements (mild this chapter), violence, toxic / abusive relationships

༺Word Count༻ 2128

༺A/N༻This will be a bit of a darker take on Ascended Astarion and the relationship with his Consort, and a bit of an AU for how I normally portray him and Serafina's relationship. As such I am not tagging anyone unless specifically requested for this fic. Additionally I would like to note this is my take on Ascended Astarion, or maybe one of my takes on him, but I will not say it is some definitive take and does not invalidate anyone else's headcanon or ideas about the character. Thanks to @leomonae for betaing this chapter.

꧁༺Chapter 1 - The Ascendant Vampire Lord ༻꧂

“Isn’t that what you want, to be mine forever?” the man that still bore Astarion’s appearance, but seemed less like him every passing moment, asked. 

A great, black pit opened in Serafina’s heart at his words. Never once had she indicated that she wished to be his spawn - or Consort, as he was so deviously calling it. “No, Astarion, that’s not what I want at all.” 

None of this was what she wanted. The ritual had promised him freedom, and in a moment of weakness, with his tormentor there on his knees, she’d agreed. The thousands of spawn couldn’t be loosed upon the world, and this way Astarion would be safe. Maybe it was the exhaustion and fear that had worn down her senses, maybe it was her foolish heart, so blindly in love, but something had clouded her judgment in that moment. And now nothing felt right; there was something different behind those crimson eyes she’d thought she knew so well. Or maybe she hadn’t; maybe this was him all along. There was something cruel and hungry, lurking, waiting, and when he stared at her too long, it made her shiver. And all those souls…

“Ah, pity. You deserve to be beautiful forever, my love.” Then those eyes softened and it was the Astarion she knew looking at her. Smiling warmly, he wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her forehead. “But whatever makes my darling happy.” 

Burying her face in his chest, she could feel his hands softly rubbing her back. Was it possible she’d been imagining all that darkness? After almost a full day without sleep, and the trauma of the battle with Cazador and the ritual, she was no longer sure of anything. 

Just thinking about it made her yawn unconsciously. “Is my little love sleepy,” he cooed in her ear, hands running through her hair, just like all the nights they’d shared a bed and he’d cuddled close to her. 

It was her own guilt, that was all. The guilt for those lives that had been taken in the ritual. This was still Astarion; her exhausted mind was just playing tricks on her. “Mmm, yeah, I can hardly stand.” 

She gasped as her legs were swept out from under her and Astarion held her to his chest. “Private room, a little time for just the two if us before you sleep?” he asked in a sultry whisper, his offer clear.

Suddenly much more awake, looking up, she caught his gaze again, wondering at the sudden desire. “You’re sure?”

“Don’t be…” His response was almost snappish, but he caught himself. “Of course I am. I love you.” 

Three little words, everyone’s favorite. Was he sincere? But why wouldn’t he be, after everything? Gods, she really was too tired. “I love you too, Astarion.” 

“Always?” It sounded like a plea: like the man who told her that he’d deceived her into loving him, but that he wanted it to be real. 

“Always, my Starry Sky,” She kissed the hollow of his throat softly, content to accept his words, and let him carry her away to the room at the Elfsong set apart from the shared common area.

The room was full of soft candlelight and the bed was freshly made, the scent of clean linen mixed with Astarion’s own blend of bergamot, rosemary, and brandy. It felt vibrant, alive, and welcoming. He gently laid her down amongst the pillows. “Let's get you comfortable,” Astarion purred, pulling her boots off. 

Sera shifted, pushing up on her elbows as her boots were discarded, her exhausted brain trying to fend off the last of the drowsiness. Something cold slithered into her stomach as Astarion began to strip off his shirt, baring himself to the waist. No, they were celebrating, this was their victory. There was nothing wrong with it. 

“Like what you see?” he smirked, the picture of that roguish charm she'd fallen for. 

A hesitant smile answered him. This was what she wanted, Astarion happy and the two of them free to be in love. “Is there any doubt, my love?” He was too far away though. “Come to me, I want to touch you.” That would put things right, having him in her arms. 

“Soon, my treasure.” He was already tugging on the laces of his trousers. The way he was rid of them and his boots was too precise: methodical, not passionate. 

Sitting fully, she pushed back against those thoughts. They were finding themselves again. For a moment, she drank him in, in all his impossible beauty, as though hand-sculpted by some god. “Astarion.” The word was a plea: for him to touch her, to show her those doubts were unfounded. 

With feline grace he came to her, kneeling beside her on the bed, his lips capturing hers before traversing down. “My sweet Serafina,” he murmured, lips burning hot against her skin as fangs teased her throat. Fingers that no longer held the cool of the grave brushed her skin as he tugged at her shirt. Shrugging out of it, she pulled him to her, hands wandering his ivory skin, the lines of his scars rigid against her palms. A reminder that he had paid the price for all of this years before the ritual. Didn’t he deserve the freedom it gave him?

“I love you, I want you,” she moaned as his tongue ran along the shell of her ear. 

“Then you shall have me, my love.” Already his hands were working to free her from her pants, moving to them from her waist at such speed, she’d hardly noticed. He stripped them from her with demanding fervor. 

Greedily, his eyes roamed her bared body. “My love, all mine,” he growled, shifting to kneel between her thighs, spreading her legs. 

As he leaned down to kiss her again, the press of his cock against her already wet slit made her whimper and roll her hips against him. My love, the blood in her veins sang, echoing him; her whole body craving him and her heart trembling with love. 

“Mine,” he whispered again, darkness slipping into his voice. 

A shiver ran through her and her lips parted. Whatever words she might have said died on her tongue as his unyielding grip fixed on her wrists, pinning them above her head. A gasp was pulled from her as his cock pushed inside her, forcing her open for him. 

The pain was momentary as slow thrusts of his hips let her accommodate his girth. And it was so good to feel him inside her, to be together in this way. Rolling her hips, she met his thrusts, even as her wrists remained pinned above her. Soft whimpers filled the air between them as he lavished soft kisses on her skin from her chest to her throat. They lingered on the spot he'd bitten last, marks all but faded. 

Without warning, his fangs pierced her skin; Sera let out a yelp, but the sting faded into the haze of pleasure quickly. Blood pumped from her heart to his, nourishing the man she loved. “Astarion,” she breathed, feeling herself clench around him. 

“Come for me, my pet.” Something was wrong again, his voice like ice, the hands that held her turned to iron. Gasping, her release came, but his fangs remained in her neck, drawing out a crimson tide.

“Astarion, stop.” Her voice had already grown quiet, the edges of her vision blackening. Panic weighed down her already struggling heart. He had no intention of stopping, did he? Weakly, she tried to fight the grip on her wrists that held her in place and robbed her of her ability to cast magic. Far away, she could hear something: a slow thudding, her heart beating out its last feeble pumps. Eyelids that were too heavy closed and the cold of the grave Astarion had escaped enveloped her. 

“You’ll thank me later, little love,” the Vampire Ascendant said, with the voice of the man she loved. 

There was nothing, just an endless sea of icy darkness. It was peaceful though: no tadpole, no warlock pact, no family to run from and haunt her memories…no Astarion and whatever the ritual had done to him. If this was eternity, she could embrace it and lay down her burdens. 

It seemed that was too much to ask of the universe; awareness slowly came back to her. Limbs stiff and cold, not responding as they should, lungs that didn’t move of their own accord anymore, and a heart that barely beat. Flashes of images filled her mind, sensations and snippets of what had happened, Astarion on top of her, draining her life away, betraying her. Her dead heart ached and she hesitantly ran a tongue over her teeth, finding elongated canines sharp enough to prick. Maybe if she just kept her eyes closed, she could finish dying, and not face what had been done. 

“I can sense you stirring, Serafina. Open your eyes, love. Let me welcome you to your new life.” It wasn’t a command that compelled her and yet, she found herself inclined to do as he asked. Another wound to add to the others tearing her apart. He was her murderer and master in the span of hours. And she, his spawn and consort. 

Eyes opening, she found him sitting next to her, peacefully reading. “There you are,” Astarion’s smile was enough to bare his fangs as he greeted her. “How do you feel?”

Sera whimpered, eyes surprisingly wet for someone who was dead. “Why?” 

Astarion’s book snapped shut violently and his crimson eyes turned hard. “Are you really going to be petulant and ungrateful? I did this for you. You weren’t ready to accept it yet, but now you’ll live forever, perfect and beautiful.” Wetness dotted her cheeks and his voice turned gentle again. “Shh, I’m sorry I was short with you.” Sliding closer, he wrapped an arm around her, coaxing her to lay her head on his shoulder. “I love you Sera. I had to do this, I couldn’t bear to ever be without you. Don’t you understand?”

She hadn’t been ready for everything that had happened since she was taken by the Nautiloid. All she had wanted was freedom, not to become everyone’s leader and pillar of support, not to fall so helplessly in love. One misstep had brought it all crashing down. The striving had tired her, and it was easier to nod her head, stifle her tears, and agree with him. Easier to believe him. That it was for love. “I wish you would’ve given me time to think.” 

“Sera.” His voice caught in appropriate regret, “I’m sorry. I just did it, I didn’t think. We’ll be alright, won’t we?”

“We will,” she reassured him, taking his hand in hers. They were bound now anyway; looking back just meant more regrets. 

Tilting her head up, he brought his lips delicately to hers, leaving a pleasant haze in her mind, so unlike the last, violent, touch of his that had ended her life. “That’s more like it, my sweet.” A sudden pain in her abdomen caused her to wince, and Astarion cup her cheek softly, rubbing a thumb along it comfortingly. “You poor thing, I bet you’re starving too. Once we get some blood in you, everything will be alright. Let’s go get changed and see to it.”

Astarion rose, offering her his hand and helping her up. Her legs trembled slightly and she fought to steady herself. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he chuckled softly. “At least you didn’t have to claw your way out of your grave.”

He let her lean on him all the way back to the common room, his touch making her feel safe, wanted, loved. Perhaps there was something to this new Astarion: a stronger man than before, more sure of himself. Not that he hadn’t made her feel those same things before, but there was more confidence in him now. 

There was no mistaking what Astarion had done as their group gathered to plan their day. Her companions studied her, none of them remarking on the change for the moment. Finally, when their eyes seemed to harbor some unvoiced suspicion, Astarion whisked her away, explaining her need to be fed. 

As she changed for the day, Shadowheart wandered over, some laundry of Sera’s that had been mixed into hers in her hand. Sera was about to thank her, when she leaned in and whispered swiftly, “I thought you didn’t want to do this?’

Swallowing thickly, Sera let her eyes wander to where Astarion was discussing something with Gale. “I changed my mind,” she lied. They wouldn’t understand; they were so ready to condemn him as a monster. “Astarion needs me.”

[herejusttosufferalong]

💜🥃

[fanlore-wiki]

Feature Article: slow dancing in a burning room

For this week's Featured Article we're watching slow dancing in a burning room by nialies.

Slow dancing in a burning room is a SwanQueen story vid, that the creator has mentioned was inspired by divorce AUs. Its choice of clips and clever use of out-of-context voice-overs chronicles a break-up between Emma and Regina. It was well-liked within the fandom, and was recced to fandom newbies as a "must watch".

Have you seen this vid? Head over to Fanlore to learn more!

-----

We value every contribution to our shared fandom history. If you’re new to editing Fanlore or wikis in general, visit our New Visitor Portal to get started or ask us questions here!

[x-heesy]

𝚆𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚢 & 𝚍𝚒𝚎 😭 🥰

Breath by Nu 🎵

[notroosterbradshaw]

may I actually post a chapter this week?! *

[highqueenofelfhame]

idk if this is good i just wrote it and didn’t edit it IDK MAN IDK WHAT THIS IS i hope you enjoy it tho xo

rowaelin // 1820 words

It wasn’t the first time Aelin had cursed her socialite lifestyle, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last, but she really hated that a full camera crew was filming every second of Aedion and Lysandra’s wedding tonight. 

Not because she didn’t want the event well documented. This footage would immortalize their love for each other in a beautiful way and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she would never be able to watch it back and not shed a healthy amount of tears. If anything, she was grateful for that aspect of how chaotic their lives tended to be. What she wasn’t looking forward to seeing was Rowan Whitethorn’s face sneaking in and out of frame while he enjoyed the party. 

Aelin could deal with everything this night threw at her, but she hated that she kept catching glimpses of the top of his silver head over everyone else’s, or that he looked unfairly delicious in a dark, forest green tuxedo that fit his frame perfectly. She hated the feeling of his gaze on her when she wasn’t looking, and she especially hated when they made eye contact from opposite sides of the dance floor. 

The option to disappear completely wasn’t on the table. As maid of honor, she had duties to fulfill and knew there would be a million and one rumors about her having a falling out with Lys or Aedion. Though they laughed about all that outrageously ridiculous gossip, she refused to have that trump the day that was solely about them. 

So instead of trying to make herself blend into the background or hiding in the bathroom, she had taken to being keenly aware of where Rowan was at all times so that she could easily avoid bumping into him and having to talk to him at all. So far, through the ceremony and the first leg of the reception, it was a success. Her shitty relationship drama wasn’t going to muddy up the wedding, especially when Rowan and Aedion had only recently began to speak after two years of radio silence on Aedion’s part. 

Their breakup had been very public. More than one episode of the reality show that followed the scandalous lives of Orynth’s elite had featured her crying over everything she and Rowan had lost. Though she never watched the show unless she was feeling sentimental, she especially avoided the clips from that part of her life. It was a chapter she had slammed shut, and she refused to look back on any of it. Not yet, anyway. 

Truthfully, Aelin didn’t like thinking about it because she always tried to look back on it with rose colored lenses. There were many nights that she lay awake, watching her ceiling fan spin in spirals while  trying to avoid a mental one of her own. 

It wasn’t that anything truly terrible had been the reason for their breakup. Rowan’s career simply took off and, in the process of a blooming music career, their relationship had taken the backseat. He got too busy, long distance was hard, and they had grown apart. 

Except she didn’t feel like she was the one that drifted away. Even with oceans between them, she made her best efforts to show up when it mattered to him, to talk to him as much as she could despite a busy schedule of her own. And then one night while they lay in bed on a rare weekend he had free to visit her in Orynth, she’d whispered the words that shattered her heart and crushed her soul: I can’t do this anymore. 

It was all too hard, too much. It felt as though they had gone from being madly in love and bordering on obsessed with each other to struggling to hold a conversation. Rowan was often exhausted from long days of travel, rehearsals, or shows. Aelin worked hard, long days between filming the show and working on her designs for the next season. 

Rowan had tried to fight her on the breakup, insisting that things would get better, but neither of them could figure out the when and the how. He had begged, made promises that she knew he couldn’t keep, and swore up and down, left and right, that he would be better and more present. But after months of drifting, she couldn’t see the shore anymore. By the time she said it out loud, there was nothing he could say or do that would fix it. Aelin had made up her mind and waited until she couldn’t handle it anymore. And then she just… shut down.

It had caused a big falling out with their friend group. A few had been on his side, a few on hers. Aedion was blindly loyal to Aelin and cut ties with Rowan almost immediately after watching her slowly crumble from heartbreak. It had only been three months ago when he’d tentatively asked her how she would feel if Rowan was at the wedding. 

“Aedion, it’s not about me. You used to be best friends. If you want him there, then he should be there,” she told him, squeezing his hands as she spoke. Aelin had even told him early on he should invite Rowan, something he had shot down at the time. But as time went on Aelin could see it was bothering him. That getting married without his best friend since he could walk at least in the room would leave a single piece of happiness missing on the best day of his life. Of course she had insisted he be invited. It wasn’t about her, that was the truth.

But seeing him had been more painful than she had anticipated, even five years later, and she was tired of knowing where he was in the room at any given millisecond. As she had the thought, their eyes locked across the dancefloor and she quickly turned to find anything else to do than be caught in a staring contest with the love of her life. Instead of walking away, though, she slammed into the hard body of her cousin.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” He teased, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. Aelin conjured up one of her infamous mischievous smirks as she gestured toward the open bar.

“Where else?” 

“The dance floor. You owe me a dance.” At those words, her heart softened and she patted his cheek, taking his arm and allowing him to pull her into the center of their dancing friends. A slow song that sounded vaguely familiar drifted through the speakers as they fell into a relaxed carriage, Aedion leading them in slow circles. 

“Our mothers are probably weeping over this,” she joked, eyes scanning the crowd once more to where Evalin and Aerin stood arm and arm with their husbands. The matriarchs had their phones already pointed to the cousins and deep laughter rumbled from Aedion’s chest. Aelin stuck her tongue out toward the two women, her mother shooting her a flat look over the top of her phone before she let herself be swept back into the moment with the man who was so much like a brother to her. “I’m really proud of you, you know.”

“I think you’re going to take that back in about ten seconds.” As Aelin’s brows wrinkled in confusion, Aedion spun her around and– let go of her hand that was quickly caught by someone else. 

The easy, relaxed posture she had with Aedion disappeared almost immediately as she scowled at him over her shoulder. He mouthed an apology, one that she mentally flushed down the toilet, and turned around to stare at the bowtie tied around Rowan’s neck.

There was no need to look up to know it was him. Aelin knew the callouses that scarred his fingers and palms, knew his warm smell of pine and snow. Her entire body was rigid while he led her in a slow dance as the song played on. Everyone around them had definitely clocked the encounter, and Aelin caught Lys smacking Aedion’s shoulder while he held his hands up defensively. 

The worst part about the entire thing was how badly she wanted to relax into his body, his touch. She wanted the hand that rested on her side to slip to her exposed lower back and hold her closer. It made her want to cry, but she exhaled slowly and willed her emotions to simmer instead of breaking the dam she had so carefully built around anything that had to do with Rowan. 

“I’m sorry for ambushing you,” he finally said, his thumb soothingly stroking soft circles over the bare skin of her ribs. 

“I doubt that,” she replied, finally lifting her eyes to meet his. Rowan’s lips twitched like he was fighting a smile. Aelin frowned. 

“I’m a little sorry,” he amended, eyes sparkling in the low, twinkling lights that surrounded them. Aelin didn’t say anything, shifting her eyes to the dark green fabric of his suit instead of the piercing green of his eyes. It maybe made her a shitty dance partner, but she couldn’t get her body to relax. Every muscle was stiff, even her fingers where they rest on his arm. Her nails were pressed into the skin of his hand where he held it, but it didn’t seem enough to push him away. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Maybe you should have told me that more often before,” she quipped, unable to keep her mouth shut. Typical.

“I should have.” Surprise must have flashed on her face, because he nodded, letting out a sigh. “I should have done a lot of things that I didn’t do, that I stopped doing. I should have tried harder.”

“I don’t want to rehash our old bullshit at Aedion’s wedding,” she said tightly, jaw clenching over every word he said. “Time and place, Rowan. I know you were never good at that, but–”

“I’m sorry.” Aelin stilled at his words, something about hearing them now threatening to break down every wall she had built where he was concerned. “For all of it, Fireheart. You deserved better than what I gave you that last year. You deserve more than that. I was young and stupid, and I’m sorry. I never meant–”

“It’s a little late for all of that, Rowan.” Aelin pulled her hand from his and stumbled out of his arms, catching the bicep of a college friend of her cousin’s to steady herself. She wouldn’t fall, not with the way Rowan had immediately caught her hips to keep that from happening. 

“Ace–” He started, but she shoved his hands off of her and held up her hand to stop him. 

Without another glance over her shoulder, Aelin gathered the bottom of her gown in her fist and disappeared from the dance floor with a burning hole in her heart. 

[caringspast]

cry in the car lyrics

[misfithive]

Slow Dancing in a Burning Room cover by St Luna it's not a silly little moment It's not the storm before the calm This is the deep and dying breath of This love that we've been working on

Can't seem to hold you like I want to So I can feel you in my arms Nobody's gonna come and save you We pulled too many false alarms

We're going down And you can see it too We're going down And you know that we're doomed My dear We're slow dancing in a burning room

[wildbluesorbit]

John Mayer listed as #61 on Rolling Stone’s “The 250 Greatest Guitarists of All Time”

[gotweim]

I was the one you always dreamed of

You were the one I tried to draw

How dare you say it's nothing to me?

Baby, you're the only light I ever saw

✨,❤️&✌🏼

[tragedybunny]

𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝕬𝖗𝖊 𝕲𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖑𝖞 𝕴𝖓𝖛𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖉

On the day of the summer solstice, the Vampire Ascendant will wed his beloved consort, Serafina Glacies.

The occasion promises to be one Baldur's Gate will never forget, with noble and monster alike in attendance. All will finally bask in the glory of Lord Astarion, and of course, his bride.

Who will attend? What of their former friends? Will the ceremony prove to be the resurrection of their love, or a nail in the coffin of it?

All will be revealed in "Slow Dancing In A Burning Room"

(I am so hype to write this wedding. Invitation by @elorathebard)

[sthaledraws]

i posted this a few months ago in my twitter. a mini comic based on one of my favorite scaramona fics "linger on (your pale blue eyes)" by retrograding on ao3

while this fic is unfinished it still lives rent free on my mind for more than a year now mini fun fact: its because of this fic i gave John Mayer songs a chance and I absolutely fell in love with "Slow Dancing In a Burning Room" which is also featured in this fic and comic :D *and that same year i read this, I ended up going to his concert to listen to this song specifically lmao*

[itlurkswithin]

The End of the Line

An Alexis Porter Short

The room unfolds before Alexis’ eyes. A ballroom, its rich reds and golds embedding their warmth into all who set foot. Masked goers make way as Alexis is led by some gentle force, guiding through the crowd and to the centre. Each one nodding and bowing in her direction as she passes.

Alexis feels full once again, strong — no longer are her clothes hanging from her thinning body, her hair fragile and static, her posture bent over as she takes a few steps. In this ballroom Alexis takes deliberate strides, chin lifted, shoulders square. Her blonde locks curl and gleam in the chandelier light.

In the centre the crowd opens up. Bathed in the light of the room stands a long passed friend. His soft eyes regard her warmly as a hand reaches out.

“May I have this dance, Alexis?”

The entire room melts away as Alexis places her hand in his, his warmth encapsulating her once again. Naturally she finds his chest to rest on as he leads her around the floor. Even without watching his face, she could feel his contentment in the sureness of his arms.

How long had it been? In this moment Alexis couldn’t say. It was as if time did not exist, the past and the future melded into one.

It was time. Her heart began to flutter.

Alexis lifts her head, bringing a hand to his cheek as if to test that it was really him.

“I’ve missed you, Ambrose.”

Closing his eyes, Ambrose places a kiss on the top of her head as they embrace once more. His smell had never changed; the faint sea salt that lingered on his skin stung her nostrils. Alexis inhales it deeply, her cheek pressing close to his chest once more.

When Alexis finally opens her eyes there is another familiar face beside her. The woman’s hand rests gently on Alexis’ forearm, the corners of the woman’s mouth rising upwards along with her brows.

Without missing a beat Alexis envelopes herself around the woman. Squeezing her tightly in her arms, as if she might fade away at any moment. Her heart in her throat, tears begin to sting at her eyes. Pulling back, Alexis studies the face of her friend — her unexpected friend, born out of the most unimaginable situation. The woman who quickly became her family. The woman who once gone, Alexis vowed to care for her children as if they were her own — as far as she was concerned, they were her own.

“Ruby…” Alexis’ lip quivers.

Ruby took Alexis’ face gently in her hands, placing a kiss on her tear streaked cheek.

Both Ruby and Ambrose look to each other for a moment, blissful smiles playing on their lips. Ambrose’s free arm holds Ruby close to him, their hands intertwining on her waist.

Ruby tilts her head slightly, looking at Ambrose expectantly.

Ambrose nods in return.

“There’s someone who would like to see you.” His low voice was unmistakably smooth, like any rough edges had been softened out before they could reach the air.

The pair take Alexis in hand, leading her through the empty ballroom to the garden door. She lingers in the door way, turning to them both. Her eyes searching theirs frantically.

“Don’t worry,” Ruby says, her hand slipping from Alexis’ grip, “We will always be here.”

“We’ll never leave you, Alexis.” Says Ambrose.

Alexis squeezes Ambrose’s hand one last time before finally letting him free.

She was ready for this. Her time had come.

Air slips through her nose, filling her lungs to the brim. She closes her eyes, silently nodding before turning from her dearest friends and taking one step into the garden.

The midday sun illuminates the garden. The grass is wild, much like her cottage’s garden back home. Wildflowers spring high from the ground, their lilacs and yellows beckoning the bee’s to buzz around their petals.

If Alexis had turned back, she’d have noticed that the illustrious ballroom she had just set foot out of was now no more. A small conservatory stood in its place.

But she didn’t turn back.

There was a man in amongst the flowers, sitting on a set of quaint garden chairs with a table to match. Partially shaded by a large oak tree.

A strong breeze blew at Alexis, whisking her hair across her face. Yet, her gaze never fell from the gentleman.

Alexis began on her front foot, stopping for a moment before stumbling forward.

The man was watching the world go by; the birds singing their songs in the tree, swishing down to dance around the grassy floor. The wind lifts the white grey hairs from his crown every so often, fighting with his bushy moustache to do the same.

Alexis froze beside the chair, the rising and falling of her chest quickening. She has no words that will come out — the wind seems to whisk them from her mouth.

But the man knows she is there. He twists his body towards her from his seat, his moustache obscuring a closed-lip smile that appears from the sight of her. Though his brows naturally pull downwards, his eyes soften and glint in the sunlight. With both hands pressing down upon his thighs, the man rises from his seat.

“My beautiful baby girl,” His voice is course, even faltering in parts. He immediately holds his daughter in his arms.

Alexis stands stunned, disbelief holding her in a trance. She can’t even begin to hug him back. His frame was even frailer than Alexis remembered, his hair, that pressed against her skin, wirer. It had been decades since she last saw her father. Decades since he held her in his arms.

Victor pulls back, tears pooling in his eyes as he looks over her. “You’re so beautiful…you’re—“ his voice catches in the back of his throat, “You’re all grown up now. My little girl.”

“I’ll always be your little girl.” The words barely make it out between sobs.

Alexis’ tears drip from her chin to her father’s shirt as she collapses into his arms, her cries only softened by the cotton.

“I waited my whole life to hold you in my arms again…I’m so proud of who you became, sweetheart.” He sniffs.

“I thought you hated me, Mother said…” Alexis trails off. She doesn’t want to speak about her Mother, not now. They have all the time in the world to discuss the past.

Her Father only held her tighter.

Alexis’ sobs got quieter the longer she stayed in his arms until finally all that was left were small sniffs.

Finally, after a while, the world returns to the whistling of the birds and the wind.

“Come, Let’s have some tea.” Victor pulls back, wiping her tears away with his thumbs.

From what was once the ballroom, Ruby and Ambrose stand arm in arm and watch on as the Father and his little girl have a tea party, just as they had done many years ago.

***

In a quiet room the air is still. The world has stopped. Not even the usual sound from the outside can seep through the brick walls. The four present are silent, listening to the hushing of Alexis’ laboured breaths. Ethan slumps at his mother’s bedside, forehead against her frail hands. Muffled cried escaping him every so often.

The sound of a long drawn exhale fills the room, and with that a stillness comes.

Poppy’s pacing ceases.

The tears welling up in Noah’s eyes stop right at the brink.

Sam’s clasped hands drop an inch from where they rest against his mouth.

They all wait. For how long, it is hard to say.

Ethan looks up at his Mother as she lies in her bed. He didn’t have to look to confirm what he knew — he had felt her life slip from his hands — but for once he didn’t want to believe in his abilities.

[notroosterbradshaw]

Please tell me Slow Dancing in a Burning Room will end good because i saw the prologue and I’m refusing to read it until it’s completed and in a good note. I’m gonna pretend that The Relationship Experience was the end and they moved in together in Carole and Gooses house and had a happily ever after😂

Haha this is the best ask. Check the masterlist. I promise I won’t leave you hanging but there is a lot of story (angst, fluff, smut and the other ups and downs of relationships) to go and I’m don’t have as much time to write (or read) atm. I hope to publish another chapter of utter turmoil for Bradley Bradshaw soon 🫣