#so I got a princess canopy as the base

[madeofbees]

after a long run of managing my time well, i have vanished from social media because, simultaneously, i am:

planning a novel

planning an etsy/patreon

designing patterns

stitching patterns

researching mythical animals

writing five different hannigram stories

planning to rewrite a ten year old full-length novel

planning a new heville story

actively reading eight separate books, not including books for research

having four separate really important doctors appointments in the next few weeks

relistening to all of crime junkie (again)

probably should have a social media presence but

turning my bedroom into a blanket fort (again)

more supplies are on the way

[geddy-leesbian]

A carved oak table tells a tale, of times when kings and queens sipped wine from goblets gold, and the brave would lead their ladies from out of the room to arbors cool. A time of valor, and legends born. A time when honor meant much more to a man than life, and the days knew only strife to tell right from wrong through lance and sword.

fantasy + cowboys + don quixote variety pack for Serennedy week

plus little snippet of a princess Luis story:

It's the moment of truth. Leon has hacked and slashed his way through what felt like endless waves of monstrous wolves and gigantic insects, navigated through a maze of a garden lined with thorny bushes, and solved a few puzzles. Finally he's reached the base of the tower. If the stories he's heard are true, there's a beautiful princess up at the top waiting to be rescued.

Scaling the tower isn't too bad. There's hardy vines growing on it, that Leon is able to use like a rope to climb up to the lone window at the tower's top. His heart races as he heaves himself through the window. There might be a beautiful princess in the room. A princess so beautiful and special that Leon will actually be attracted to her without conscious effort, and she'll be so grateful to finally be rescued that she'll agree to marry him right away.

Or the room will be empty, and Leon will just have to make peace with the fact he's going to die alone, because this whole “find a princess to rescue” thing was his last ditch effort after years of trying and completely failing to court women the normal ways.

Shutters magically snap shut behind Leon, covering the window, trapping him. The room is lavishly furnished. At the center is a large canopy bed, with intricately carved wood posts and lacy fabrics. And there's a figure in a dress laying on it. Success. It isn't until Leon gets closer that he realizes: It's a man. He approaches stealthily, dagger drawn and presses it to the man's throat.

“Oye, what the hell are you doing?! Barging into someone's bedroom, putting a knife to their throat?”

“There's supposed to be a princess here. You've got her dress. Where is she? What did you do to her?”

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but there is no princess here. Never has been. Just a very charming prince who happens to enjoy wearing his mother's dresses.”

“You're kidding.”

“No, you have the wrong castle, hero boy. But, while you're here… Untie my hands?”

“I can't believe this,” Leon complains, rolling the man over and using his dagger to cut the rope tying his hands together. “I went through hell to get here expecting my soul mate, and instead I get you.”

“Easy, easy. I may not be the princess you expected, but I'm not nothing either! Can the handsome and amazing Prince Luis Serra know his savior's name?”

“Leon.”

“Thank you, Sir Leon,” Luis purrs, before breaking Leon's brain a little bit by boldly going in for a kiss. “Now let's get out of here. Just a few flights of stairs, no more traps. Oh, and there's a dragon at the bottom of the tower that you'll have to slay.”

“Of course there is. Whatever.”

[camelliagwerm]

The trail of rumpled sheets prompt with valerius and camellia perhaps? 👉👈

combining this with @silversiren1101's "making them brush their teeth before kissing you because of their morning breath" prompt.

Camellia wakes to the feel of his lips against her heart, trailing up towards the base of her throat, and a cold hand ever so gently following the arch of her spine. Her head pounds from drinking too much wine, and her body aches, but at least the softness of the bed, and the weight of her husband atop of her is a comfort. Husband...

She cracks her eyes open, relieved to find the curtains around the four-poster still drawn. Valerius is nestled against the crook of her neck, his hair mussed and tangled.

"Good morning, Princess." The words come out in a purr, and it's strange to hear that title. She starts to thread her hands through his hair, enjoying the coolness of his lips over her skin, flushed and sticky from last night's exertions.

"Not that your court knows that yet," she mumbles.

He groans. "They're going to be furious that we've deprived them of such a momentous excuse for a bacchanal." Valerus looks up at her, dark bags underneath vibrant red eyes. "The court-wide celebration can wait; at least now the goddess knows our commitment to each other is true."

There's an implication to those words, of course: perhaps Urgathoa will finally forgive me for what I did all those years ago by bringing you into the fold, not by sacrifice but by marriage. If that soothes his conscience over that old matter, then so be it.

As he leans into kiss her, a waft of his breath is warm against her lips and she winces, swiftly pressing her fingers against his mouth. "Darling. Fang care. Immediately."

He opens his mouth briefly as though he considers a retort, but settles to kiss the tips of her fingers. "And afterwards?"

She lowers her eyes, flashes him a brief, coy smile. She nudges him with a foot. "I suppose you'd have to see."

Valerius sighs reluctantly, dips his head to press a kiss to her breast again before removing himself from the safe coccoon of his - their, she reminds herself - canopied bed. He pushes the curtains back, and as he leaves for the adjoining bathroom, she takes that opportunity to roll onto her side and stretch out, the rumpled bedsheets pooling around her hips and then trailing onto the floor from where he'd left.

She eagerly wets her lips as her eyes rove over his retreating figure, over the broad shoulders, muscled back and the myriad of scratches and scars across that expanse of grey skin, first wondering how long she would be able to keep him in bed for.

As he turns the corner, however, those more pleasing thoughts diverge into nervousness. It coils in her stomach as she looks down at the ring on her finger - fashioned from human bone, a delicate pattern carved into it that shimmers from the Heartbond. Valerius is 'divinely appointed' public property in their eyes; if they wish to wear the rings, he'd have to make this public, and she did not feel ready for the judgmental looks and whispers from behind silk and ivory fans about how she denied us a proper ceremony, just like she denied him his ascension.

Never mind that the decision to elope had been his suggestion when the passing mention of a grand celebration had made her tense up with nerves. Never mind that Valerius had been just as eager to take her to the Lost Chapel for their private ceremony, had conducted the Heartbond himself. He is infallible in their eyes, and she would be the perfect scapegoat, an outsider that is never good enough for him.

Camellia hears him padding back into the bedchamber, a towel now wrapped around his hips. It draws her attention away from the nervousness and insecurities set deep in her belly to a flutter in her heart at the sight of him, and she manages a brief smile for him.

"I've got a bath running for us. Goddess knows we both need it," he murmurs, leaning down to brush the tip of his nose against hers; his breath is fresher now, his fangs clean. He encases her in his arms, easily pulling her away from the warm comfort of the bed and into a carry. She offers no resistance, winding her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips. Valerius hesitates, frowning when she doesn't squeal or insist that he puts her down. "Is everything alright, Cami?"

"Of course, darling. Why wouldn't it be?" she replies lightly as he starts to carry her towards the bathroom, hoping that her nerves don't betray her. Before he can probe further, she goes in for a kiss, one hungry enough to distract him. Nerves or not, she is no mood for one of his interrogations.

Valerius there, at least, is happy to oblige.

[snapdragonsxoxo]

Stupid teenagers and their inability to cope with their emotions in a healthy way but it’s like cute… kinda 🐿️

I have an actual essay I should be writing-

They'd separate for a bit. Maybe when they're young or maybe as teenagers. Absence makes the heart grow fonder or whatever. I'd like to think they got into an argument but they also could have just gotten super sucked into their lives and were too busy to talk. I dunno they're kinda obsessed with each other so I think their separation would be intentional.

Maybe they separate because she's on track to becoming queen? (I still think of her as a princess but my au is more based on eg so maybe she's on track to becoming a principal? l'm really not sure. I like princess a lot more She wants to focus on her studies and pushes him away. At first she's always busy and he understands but weeks turn into months and he gets frustrated.

They'd def separate after she freaked out. She wanted to talk to him but she couldn't bring herself to.

Regardless he called everyday at first begging her to say she's alright or really to say anything. She wouldn't.

Luna would tell him that she's alright and just needs a little space. He'd call her and talk about her day, the voice mails would range from 5 to 15 minutes. And of course she'd listen to every one several times, to the point where she could recite it. After a couple months of no one being able to get much out of her Celestia requested him.

He'd knock on door softly and get no response, then he'd knock a little harder. There'd be a muffled "go away" she wouldn't keep her door locked she's a good kid. He'd slowly twist the knob and glance around. Her room looked different. Her huge canopy bed had been moved from the center of her room to the corner, her sheets were still purple and her plush animals covered the entire bed. He spotted the Tom nook plush he'd given her for Christmas years ago with her arm wrapped tightly around it. She'd have band posters on her wall, ones that He'd never seen her listen to. More interesting there were bright colored clothes littered on her floor. In all the time he'd known her she'd never worn anything bright, she loved soft colors. The neons hurt her eyes, but yet here they were sprawled across the floor. Which led to another realization her room was far messier than he'd ever seen it. She was by no means clean and organized but her chaos made sense to her. This seemed different though, there were no longer books and notes sprawled across her floor, but magazines and various snacks. He stepped into the room, she didn't move from under her covers. He made his way to the bed and sat down near her legs. "Your rooms a mess" he chuckled. Immediately she scrambled up from under the covers, making his eyes widen. Twi had always had unusually long hair, she'd constantly complain about brushing it all, at times it was such a chore she'd beg Mordecai to do it for her. It was a dark purple color, almost blue. Bangs accompanied the the long hair. They were blunt, precise, as were the ends of her hair. The girl who had emerged from the blanket had short hair, with blonde patches sprinkled in. Her hair wasn't all that had changed, she had never been very fond of makeup, only wore it when attending events with Celestia.

However makeup was present on her face, smudged dark circles surrounded her eyes. Her lips were pink a color her recognized as the one she'd worn to an event a year prior for a fund raiser. She adored it. The glasses he'd commented on for years were no where to be found. She'd completed changed, well not quite, the black transformers hoodie she'd worn everywhere was still present. It had small bleach stains, presumably from when she'd dyed her hair. Dark little eyes stared at him, scanning over his face. " I'm sorry I-" she whispered quietly. " I should have called you back. I should have let you know I'm ok" He didn't process her words, continued looking at her appearance. " you changed you hair" he noted with a small smile. " now I see why Celestia called, blonde streaks? How original" he teased. " Celestia?" She repeated confused. “Yeah that's how concerned she was, and I see why. Not that there's anything wrong with how you look it's just.. different. You cut it with kiddie scissors didn't you?" He said gestering to her hair. " kitchen sears" she smiled. " interesting, it suits you" " now you don't have to brush it anymore" she giggled. " I never understood why you didn't jus use your magic to do it" she stiffened at the mention of magic. He glanced at her confused before realizing. " how long has it been?"

"7 months" she muttered looking away. He stared at her in shock. *7 months" he repeated. * I dont want to do it anymore, I don't want to become that again. I don't want to hurt anyone" she trailed off. " so no I haven't done anything in 7 months* The gravity of the situation started to set in. " you see the new transformers movie?" He asked switching topics. Her head perked up at that. " no I haven't left the dorms in a month* With that he crawled off the bed. "Cmon" he said gesturing for her to follow. "I'll buy m&ms for you to put in the popcorn"

[lavenoon]

I enjoy reading all these sleep facts, please info dump some more when you have time! (or when comic is finished/you need a drawing break!)

Enablers, all of you! Sketch is done, so another quick ramble as I eat the breakfast I forgot:

Accommodations are plentiful! If sleep doesn't work for you as is, despite melatonin/ routine/ whatever, maybe there's something else missing/ not right!

Like I'm talking about compression blankets or weighted blankets, both offering some pressure that will help you wind down, or bed tents and canopies if you feel too exposed just with the ceiling above you! Most of these may be marketed towards neurodivergent folks (neurodivergent kids more often than not, unfortunately), if you feel like it may enhance your sleeping experience, use it!

Gonna ramble a bit about my sleep, putting it under a cut - doesn't feel too personal for me, I'm not embarrassed, but I'm prone to oversharing so making that opt-in lmao

I'm autistic and have ADHD, sleep is a whole ass challenge for me - and I only started really being kind to myself over it this year! (especially because I only really looked into autism/ got diagnosed this year, too lmao)

I use:

Melatonin half an hour before my bedtime

two weighted blankets, for the summer I have a compression blanket to not die of heat stroke

all in all I currently sleep under 8 blankets. Yes. Princess on the Pea kinda bs here

A bed tent! A cheap one from Ikea that only covers the top of the mattress, the big ones are a bit too much of a hassle even though I love them in theory

My bed has a raised frame, too, and is a child's single bed - I feel enclosed when I sleep and that's ideal

My sensory issues means my legs CANNOT touch at night or I die, so I have a pillow to put between my legs!

Love holding on to either my blankets or a plushie, too, to have something in my arms. Makes me feel safe

Earplugs! Gods, I am SO noise sensitive, I don't know how I ever slept without. I use the foam kind, and they're a godsent, the wax kind I hate so so much lmao

A sleep mask! Specifically one that also covers the ears, originally one of those with integrated headphones, but I took those out and just use it as is #livingintheyear3022

A few specific comfort items/ routines (texture blanket, specific plushie, blankets in specific order, some other stuff)

My sister once said before I got my autism diagnosis: "Look at your bed. Of course you're autistic." and I cannot blame her lmao

And granted, even with all that, I still struggle to sleep a lot of the times! I naturally would get tired around 1AM to 2AM, but that's not feasible for work, so I have to manually shift my body's sleep schedule, and that's rough. I've adapted somewhat, and wake up around 6AM usually (almost 8 today, I slept in! Because I woke up and couldn't fall asleep for two hours tonight!)

Bottom line is, unfortunately ideal sleep is, as all ideals, most likely impossible to reach. But you can still experiment with different accommodations - there's definitely more than I mentioned here, and different things work for different people (like how I absolutely cannot stand sound based asmr, and have friends who really prefer some background noise for sleep), so don't be scared to try out a couple things!

Wishing all of you good sleep luck <3

[spicywhenspeaking]

If I'm There: Chapter Twenty

you're stronger than me Nat, I'd be jumping on him like a freaking jack rabbit

read from part one here!

summary: Noah and Natalie met in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.

this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)

word count: 2.4k edited by me ....soooo if you see something spelt wrong no you didn't.

taglist : @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @blackveilomens @thisbicc @thebadchic @jessitpwk @samanthasgone @laurpartyprogram @myownthoughts12

I walk Noah through the rest of the house, I show him some of the art I made that we have hanging and he looks closely at all of the family photos I have lining the walls. “Is that Maggie and your brother?” he asks in surprise.

“Haha um yeah, they got really close after I left.” I tell him and pick up the scattered clothes I find littered in the hallway. “And then he joined the marines and they stationed him overseas. To stay together they ended up eloping so she could be with hime when he was stationed. They have a little girl, she's five. Her and Erin are so cute together. They'll actually be here in a few days.” I can feel myself starting to ramble and I stop abruptly and smile awkwardly. Noah laughs softly, “You look different but you’re still the same Natty.” he remarks in a small voice.

“Jeeze, your brother could kick my ass before joining the army, can’t imagine what he’d do to me now.” I laugh to break the awkward stale tension and move to the outside of Erin's room. Her walls are Yellow and she has a pink bed with a princess canopy hanging over it.

Along with a bunch of toys, books and stuffed animals all over her desk and shelves. “She’s really into the Percy Jackson books, you know I never read them when I was a kid but they’re pretty good. She loves reading.” I say while I watch him taking everything in. On the floor of her room are several notebooks and sketchbooks open and sprawled out. “Wow, she's an artist. Like you” he says softly. “She also has quite the little voice on her. You should hear her, kids got range.” I say and move to grab what I came in for, Erins photo book.

We move back into the living room and sit side by side on the couch. I open the book and it starts with a picture of Erin as a baby along with her birth information sheet, detailing length, weight and other important facts for newborns. There are a lot of pictures in here, one of the firsts is me holding her after we got home from the hospital.

I look so young. He gently touches the edges of the photo and I see fresh tears gleam in the corner of his eyes. “Nat, I’m- I just can’t believe this.” he chokes out. “I’m so sorry I wasn't there.” he says again and I have to swallow the lump forming in my throat. “I know, Noah. I know, I wish things had been different. I should have tried harder.” I softly place my hand on his shoulder as I whisper out my words and he looks at me with a sad smile.

“This isn’t all on you Natty, I left. Gave up everything I loved to make this dream come true. I should have thought more about all I left behind.'' His voice is hoarse and I don't know if it's from singing just a few hours ago or all of the emotion that's behind his eyes right now.

Lost in his eyes again I feel like a teenage girl again. The girl that was so ridiculously in love with a boy, the boy that’s now a man sitting in front of her and in this moment they share it’s like the last ten years didn’t happen and slowly the distance between them disappears and they’re just a breath apart. Lips hovering about each other in a delicate balance of temptation. The clattering of the photo album falling off Noah's lap reels us both back into reality.

Shaking my head and sitting back further onto my seat I brush my hair back out of my face and grab my cup of water to adjust to our situation. He coughs awkwardly and I try to get focused on what we were doing. Kissing would be a horrible idea. After all of these years he’s still the most attractive man I’ve ever met. But, this confusing situation would only get even messier if we started something romantic again. That would be stupid. Erin still doesn't know about Noah andI have Kyle coming in a few days to worry about. Also, I don't really even know Noah anymore.

Can you still know someone after so long. Coughing to clear my throat and to disrupt the silence I offer an awkward smile as Noah leans down to collect the fallen book. We continue looking through the pages and I tell him about some of the important stages I have documented. “Oh her first birthday, we had it at the park, just me and Haylie, she has been with me through it all, the pregnancy and all of Erin's life.”

He nods silently as we flip through more pages. “Ah, this is after she got her tonsils out, she was so silly off the anesthesia, kept asking me when Pooh Bear was getting dropped off for daycare.” I laugh at the memory and Noah smiles sliding his hand over the page. A lot of the photos are of Erin and I and he looks at those very closely, they also show my change over the years. My hair gets darker and my skin becomeçs more and more covered in tattoos.

“A lots changed since we last saw each other.” he sighs offhandedly and turns the page again to a family photo of another birthday party, but this one while being a great picture includes Erin laughing over her Barbie cake and me, with the arms of my ex-boyfriend Gavin wrapped tightly around me. Talk about awkwardness.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Noah asks softly and I just about fall off of the sofa. “Oh no, um that guy, Gavin? We broke up a while ago. It was pretty mutual, we're just better off as friends.” I rush out in explanation and feel my neck start to sweat.

“Oh, yeah. My schedule is pretty crazy with touring and us trying to make this next album. It's hard to commit to a relationship.” There's a short pause before he finishes in a quick fluster, “that is of course, now with everything I will make time for Erin, I want to be as involved as you’ll allow. I want to be in her life, I want to know her. You as well” the last part comes out much quieter and I can’t help the redness that takes over my cheeks.

“There is a lot that we need to work out, I want you to be in her life too, I know she will want to know you. You said you would be done with the tour soon? What is your plan?” I ask, what does almost done with tour even mean if you tour all of the time? He continues flipping through the book while he answers. ��Just a few more weeks and then we will have a long break through the new year, then we will head to Europe. How would you feel about us taking our break here?” he asks and I look around the house, wondering where he’s planning on having four full grown men stay for months. He notices my eyes scanning the house and he laughs, “Not here, Natty. I mean Austin. We will be working but I would have time to get to know Erin.” I let the breath I didn't know I was holding out.

“Oh, that sounds great Noah, and you’d be here for her birthday. It’s in September.” He flips back to the first page, “yeah the 17th? I’m gonna put it in my phone” as he says it he pulls out his phone and I see the blank front page aside from a few apps, “wow, you’re pretty boring Noah,” I joke and he laughs. “Oh yeah, I deleted everything a little while ago, It was just a lot haha, I mean seeing my face everywhere and reading everyone's psychoanalysis of me was too much.” Whatever I’m about to say dies on my tongue when Hailye bursts through the door with Folio’s arm tight around her for support.

“Ohhh Honeyyyy I’m hooome!!” she calls out and I laugh getting up from the couch to take her from Folio. “Honey, you're coming  home with another man? I’m shocked.” I take on the fake role of husband quickly as we begin are dumb little routine. “Well honey, you’re home with another man so I think It’s only fair.” she replies swaying in my arms and I work to steady her. “Thank you for getting her home safe, Foli, I appreciate it” I say to the man standing in my door.

“I’ll watch her anytime, she's a great gal,” he says and I can sense he’s being genuine. “She’s a maneater, but we love her.” I say to him as a slight warning. I love Haylie but she doesn’t stay held down for very long in relationships. Calls herself a lone wolf. Folio winks at me and nods to Noah, I’m assuming to gesture he will wait for him outside. “You’ll find that me and my friends work really hard to get the things we desire.” he says before exiting and heading down the front steps.

I turn to Noah whos waiting patiently on the couch, “just give me a second?” I ask and he nods while I help Haylie to her bed, quickly stripping her. I throw an oversized shirt on her and place her water bottle on her nightstand along with the bottle of ibuprofen she will definitely need in the morning.

Heading back out to the living space I sit next to Noah. “So yall leave tomorrow?” I ask and he shakes his head. “No, we have a few days off actually. Our next show is in three days.” I think on it for a moment before responding. “Okay well, Erin will be home tomorrow and I’ll tell her. I’ll see how she feels but maybe we can meet for lunch the next day before you leave?” A look of nervous excitement crosses his face and I almost want to cry again. “That sounds great Natty, here, put in your number so we can plan things later.”

He hands me his phone and I quickly send myself a text from his phone and just like that we're back in each other’s lives. “I know I can’t make up for these last ten years but I want to try. And Natty. I know that you and I-” I cut him off.

“I think all you and I need to worry about is being the best people for Erin we can be, you and I? I don’t know if that's anything we need to dive into right now.” His jaw tightens slightly but he nods in understanding. “So I’ll reach out tomorrow to see how it goes?” He stands and I follow him to the door. “Okay, I will let you know.”

Before reaching for the door knob Noah turns quickly and wraps me in a surprising hug. “I won’t let you down Natty, not this time.” he says and I barely have time to react before he lets me go and says goodbye and exits. I lock up and rest my head against the cool metal door. “What the fuck.” 

Noah POV

My mind is whirling, here I thought Natty and I were going to talk and after the concert she was going to want to talk about life. Just how much we’ve both changed and how our lives are so different. I thought life was bringing me the miracle of a second chance. I guess in a sense it did, but in a way I never expected. A kid. A child. A daughter.

I have a daughter. “I have a daughter.” I say out loud, and I think it’s the first thing I’ve said since Folio and I got back to the hotel. It’s late and we’re all exhausted but we all gathered in Jolly and Folio’s room. Folio spits his drinks out and coughs, “the fuck?” Jolly shares an equal look of surprise and Nicholas looks like his shoulders sag with what I think is relief. I’ll definitely ask him about that later. “You got someone pregnant? Damn. That could seriously mess up your chances with Miss Natalie," Folio says and I laugh at the irony, as does Nicholas which solidifies my curiosity about him already knowing.

That doesn't even surprise me and I just hope he hasn't known longer than we’ve been here or we will have bigger problems. “Well actually. Natalie is her mother. She’s ten.” I tell them and It’s like saying it outloud makes it so much more real.

“She was pregnant after I left her and just never managed to get to me. She just told me, tonight.” Jolly is the next to ask questions.

“She just never told you? How do you feel about that?” I know he’s considering my feelings but I don’t want to set it up that she intentionally kept me away from my child.

“Well at first when she told me I was pissed and then we just talked about it all. She explained herself and there were a lot of things that I have to accept. She felt abandoned and I did leave her. She tried to tell me and fucking Alex stuck her nose in it and then Kevin said some fucked up shit. It’s not at all what I wanted my life to be with Nat, but, this is happening.” I stand up and move to  grab a sparkling water from the mini fridge.

“Do you still want a life with her?” Nicholas finally speaks up. “I don’t know if I’ll ever fully move on from her, she was the first girl I ever truly loved. But, she doesn't want anything like that with me, especially now. She said all she wants is for us to be there for Erin. So that's what I’ll do.” Folio smiles and grabs me into a crushing hug. “Congratulations Daddy!” he calls out and the other guys laugh.

“So does win baby momma's heart back start now? Or…” Folio asks and I roll my eyes and wrap my arm around his head pulling him into a headlock to ruffle his hair.

“Why don’t we start with trying to get my daughter that probably thinks I abandoned her to like me and then I can start to think about trying to win the love of my life back?”

thank you for reading besties!!

next upload won't be for about a week! working on some other wips an building out the outline for future chapter! love youuuuuu :)

next chapter ->

[rhaenaspearls]

Rhaena watched Aegon move across the room and sit in a close-by armchair that was still a respectable distance away, his own eyes moving to her hands as they still worked her needle and thread, methodically creating a dragon scale pattern in deep red onto the collar of the shirt. She liked embroidery in large part because of how methodical it was, it's repetitiveness, how she could keep her hands moving and directing the frenetic energy she knew all their family harbored to a certain degree into something productive. Helaena did much the same, in fairness, she learned how to do so in large part from her, and it sent her back to wondering.

This time if maybe, while her father and stepbrothers and even Aemond put that energy into becoming good fighters in their own ways, she and Helaena put it into their crafts, and the children in their charge, and women like her Muna, her grandmother, Princess Rhaenys, and one day soon, she hoped, her twin Baela, put it into running their family, the kingdom, and when in doubt their dragons into exhaustion, Aegon had never found something he enjoyed enough to put that energy into, and chose to dampen it with alcohol instead. She couldn't blame him if that was the case, it was true of her father for a long time, sometimes she thought it was still true of her father more often than not, and she knew it was the same for the King, he just hid it better than most.

All those thoughts rushed through her mind in the span of ten seconds, then they all got filed away in some back corner to be sorted through when she was staring up at the canopy of her bed while trying to find sleep. Then Rhaena answered his question about the project without her expression slipping an inch, "Oh, yes! For Baelon," She quickly remembered it was likely he wouldn't remember which one he was just based off of that answer, even her Velaryon grandparents got some of her half-siblings mixed up on occasion, and she honestly couldn't blame any of them, they all had much more pressing things to occupy their mind than the day to days of a hoard of children between the ages of thirteen and five. "My lady stepmother's youngest son. He's been excited you've all come back for a while, I think the only person he likes more than her Grace is Maelor." She laughed softly at that, "And I can't blame him, with five older brothers...I know how much I enjoyed always having a playmate my own age. With all the stress everyone's been under it's just--it's really nice to see that at least the littles are all happy to have some time together again."

Rhaena knew most would judge Aegon for the confession he found keeping track of his own children difficult, and the ones who wouldn't would likely claim it's not a father's job to do so, but she didn't believe either. "It's stressful I won't deny, and I don't blame you, honestly" The laugh that followed was wryer than the last, but no less cheerful, "I've given up with Aeg and Vis. The latter's really only ever reading, he just finds odd spots to do it, if he's back for dinner we don't worry anymore. Visenya, well, I think we all have half an eye on her, since she gets ill so frequently and with the new habit she's developed over the past year of climbing on the roof to stargaze...but my Muna--" she paused, she was so used to calling Rhaenyra the High Valyrian term for both mother and aunt that she'd forgot it wasn't exactly the right thing to say in the moment. There was no reason she shouldn't, only that her stepmother generally was a delicate topic, and any carelessness was just as likely to go poorly as not. Then again, she already knew it was unlikely he'd appreciate her obviously walking on eggshells, so it seemed the only option was to just disregard the slip up and keep moving. That seemed to be the Prince's strategy more often than not in any case. "My Lady Stepmother and father are both very attentive, but with Nya especially, it's a team effort. Then Baelon is practically attached to her Grace's hip, Jace likes to say he's sewn on, and Aemma spends most of her time with me, not that I'm complaining, I love her like she's my own, she's a joy."

She paused just for a second, wondering if Aegon would appreciate learning about how Aemond had supposedly accidentally kicked her youngest half-sibling in the head the day before, and decided to move forward with the story if only because it ended with Aemma unhurt and his younger brother embarrassed, which is a rare pleasure shared by all older siblings. "Aemma, she's only five, and yesterday she got overeager wanting to play hide and seek. Ran off before I could calm her down and when I caught up she'd caught Prince Aemond off guard and he clipped her with his boot...in the forehead." Rhaena giggled, unable to fully read Aegon's responding expression, "She's perfectly fine, I wouldn't be laughing if she wasn't, to be sure. Little ones, they always seem a little more durable than the rest of us as I'm sure you well know. But I lost my temper at him when he swore at her over it, said it was humiliating to get angry at such a small child over that. It wasn't particularly fair of either of us, and not ladylike on my end, all that to say," She looked back up from her needlework to offer an empathetic glance, "It's not easy, even for the ones who make it look that way, especially them, actually, not parenting, not any of it."

After realizing she'd gotten slightly carried away however, Rhaena looked back down and continued with her work before circling back to the younger Aegon. "Aeg is doing really well, though, he's been Jace's squire for going on two years now, and he's really coming into his own with it. Stormcloud's big enough to ride now, too, although I know I don't have to tell you that. He really loves the saddle you sent for his name day. I think my stepbrother actually may be a bit jealous, he gave him one too, but Aeg uses yours twice as much." She can't help but gain a hint of mischief in her grin as she speaks, Jace had everything in their family, to be jealous over something so small it was all rather comedic to her. "How's Sunfyre doing, by the way? I know Silverwing was rather happy to see Dreamfyre, I think she misses her even more than I miss her rider most of the time. But after being back on Dragonstone, I know the adjustment back to the pit can be annoying, I hope you two have still had some time to get out. I know around here whatever time I want with Silvy I have to make happen myself," Her smile slipped slightly without her realizing as she added, without quite thinking, "But that's true of most things in life, I'm sure you don't need me reminding you."

The Prince and the Pearl of the Realm: with @rhaenaspearls

The sitting room was bright with a large window overlooking the courtyard below allowing sunlight to pour into the room, highlighting the golden accents on the furniture.  It was one of his favorite rooms in the castle.  It was tucked away from most people’s notice and the window could easily be propped open to let in air from the outside.  Back when they’d lived in the Red Keep, Aegon had enjoyed napping on the large couch in the corner while Helaena did her embroidery.  

He’d come in to visit Helaena and the children who had all left their chambers to go visit with Rhaena in the sitting room.  However, once he stepped into the room, his family was nowhere to be seen though Rhaena was still in the room.  He thought about trying to subtly leave and avoid a potentially awkward conversation, but Rhaena had almost certainly seen him and slinking out the door wasn’t exactly great manners.  For most people, he might not have cared but Rhaena had always been kind to him and he didn’t think it was fair to be rude to her in return, especially not with how close she was to Helaena and his kids.  

“I was looking for Helaena.  Do you think she’ll be back soon?” That was another thing he now remembered he disliked about the Red Keep.  It was so much harder to find people in a building as big and as full as this one currently was.  If his family planned on coming back here, he was probably better off waiting instead of searching the countless halls to figure out where they might have gone.  

That would leave him alone in the room with Rhaena.  He’d spent time with her whenever she visited Dragonstone, but either one of the kids or Helaena had always been there to act as a buffer.  He wasn’t completely sure what she thought of him.  She was always smiling and seemingly happy to see him, but she was that way with everybody.  The suspicious part of him wanted to think it was all for show, but he was fairly sure it wasn’t.  He couldn’t imagine being that nice all the time; it sounded exhausting.  “If they’ll be back soon, would it be alright if I wait here?”

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 22

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 2695

Warnings: Talk about death/near-death

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when her Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: Chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Mercy Kiss Me

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23

Juliette

A strange weightlessness engulfed Juliette as she slowly came to from her blackout. Once again, Coffin Corner bested her ability to stay conscious. Although she wasn't trained near to the degree the pilots were to handle G-forces, Juliette had always prided herself on being able to endure them almost as well, to stay awake under the pressure that made most other civilians pass out. 

Dazed and disoriented, Juliette attempted to gather her wits and bearings, but the world continually somersaulted around her. She heard herself croak out Coyote's name, hoping he'd respond with an answer or what was happening. Only silence responded. Juliette called out his name again, this time stronger and louder, and finally, she got a reply, but it wasn't from her pilot.

"Jules!" Maverick exclaimed, panicked. 

"Mav, what's- shit," she gasped, desperately trying to catch her breath. Juliette tried to shift in her seat, but her body wouldn't- no, couldn't move, paralyzed by the forces of what she now realized was a free-falling F-18. Terror gripped her. "Coyote!"

"Juliette, can you reach the ejection handle?" Maverick demanded.

"No, I can't move. Maverick, I can't-" Juliette strained for the handle below, but the attempt was futile. "I can't move!"

Both she and Maverick started shouting Coyote's name repeatedly, and Juliette continually tried to grab hold of the ejection handle in the event her pilot didn't wake up in time, but she couldn't. All Juliette could do was yell at Coyote and pray fervently that the cacophony she and Maverick were creating, along with the blaring missile alert, woke him up. Otherwise, her life would be cut short in the blink of an eye. The fear and panic consuming Juliette prevented any tears from falling. She wouldn't stop trying to wake Coyote up or eject from this plane until she died. 

Suddenly, the F-18 jerked upwards into the air and flew far away from the ground, leveling out at about 5,000 feet. Juliette ripped her mask off to stop anyone from hearing her erratic breathing that neared hyperventilating. That had been too close of a call...

"Coyote, Princess, you okay?" Maverick demanded immediately once the young aviator was safely away from the ground. "You okay?"

"I'm okay," Coyote confirmed, his breathing almost as crazy as Juliette's. "I'm good."

"Juliette? Are you okay?" Maverick repeated when her answer didn't immediately follow Coyote's.

With shaking hands, Jules lifted her mask to her mouth and said in a tone much calmer than she felt internally, "I'm good, Mav. I'm good."

She heard her uncle sigh with relief. "Good, good. That's enough for today."

Phoenix leveled out on Maverick's right-hand side and said, "That was close."

"Too close," Mav agreed quietly as the three of them headed back to base. Juliette leaned her head against the canopy and stared out at the terrain ahead. In the distance, she saw tiny black specks rapidly appearing, but by the time it registered with her what they were, the team had already come upon them.

"Bird strike! Bird strike!" Maverick barked. Coyote veered to the left, narrowly avoiding being hit, but Phoenix hadn't been so lucky. Juliette witnessed one of the birds hit the female pilot's plane, causing the left engine to catch fire. Panic ensued on the radio. Jules could barely make heads or tails of it as Phoenix spouted off what she was doing to try and regain control of her aircraft, but nothing seemed to be working. Maverick yelled frantically at her to eject, and finally, Phoenix listened. Juliette watched, mortified, as the plane plunged into the ground, exploding on impact with a horrifying fireball and plume of black smoke. Unfortunately, Coyote passed the crash site before Jules could see if Bob and Phoenix ejected in time, so she had no idea if they'd successfully escaped.

"Coyote, get yourself and Juliette back to base," Maverick ordered shakily. "I'm going to wait here until search and rescue arrive."

Coyote obeyed, and Juliette sank into her seat, a flood of different emotions roaring through her, each one swiftly replaced by the next in a vicious, never-ending circle. Initially, Juliette shook from the fear of her near-death experience, but relief would wash over her when she reminded herself she was alive. The relief would be short-lived, replaced by guilt that she survived when Phoenix and Bob may not have. Their potential deaths would remind Juliette of her near-death experience, and the cycle would repeat.

Upon landing, Juliette went through the motions of unstrapping herself and disembarking from the jet. The moment her feet hit the ground, Coyote grabbed hold of her shoulders, his worried eyes scanning her over. "I'm so sorry. I don't- I didn't- are you okay?

"I'm fine," Jules lied, plastering on what she hoped was a reassuring smile. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up with her dogs while she let the turmoil of today wash over her, but that would have to wait. For now, Juliette would have to push her fear and guilt down until she could deal with them in private. It wasn't in Juliette's wiring to let anyone see her other than calm and collected save for a handful of people, and Coyote did not belong in that group. "Right now, I'd really just like to get out of this flight suit and avoid Cyclone before he makes me get checked out by the doctor for no reason."

"May want to go to the left then because I can see him in the hangar marching over here right now," Coyote said. "I'll stall for you. It's the least I can do after I nearly got you killed."

"But you didn't. You came to and saved my life and yours. Don't beat yourself up over this, okay?"

Coyote nodded, but she could tell it might take some time before he actually listened. Juliette slipped behind the planes, only stopping to avoid having Cyclone catch her movement out of the corner of his eye and force her to be checked out. Nothing a doctor said or did could help because Juliette didn't need help. She had no injuries, so what could they do for her? She would only be wasting their time when there were other soldiers they could be helping, ones who needed assistance much more than Jules.

Once in the changing room, she slowly, almost robotically, slipped off her flight suit and donned her dress and heels again. Juliette sank onto the bench and pulled out her phone to check the time, but her shaking hands wouldn't let her, jostling the device out of her grasp and onto the floor below. Juliette bent down and picked it back up, taking deep, calming breaths.

"Stop panicking, for Christ's sake," she mumbled to herself. "It's not going to do anything. Just take deep breaths and move on. Come on, Juliette. Get your shit together!"

Furious with herself for acting this way, even though she knew full well her body's reaction to the emotions she'd just experienced was completely normal, Juliette forced herself to stand and walk out of the changing room like she wasn't a mess on the inside. She wanted to hear about Phoenix and Bob's status, and she wanted to check on Maverick and Rooster; the former because of the sheer panic she heard in his voice earlier, which was a feat when next to nothing affected the seasoned pilot, and the latter because of their conversation earlier in the morning. Rooster had been terrified something would happen to Juliette, and something almost did. First, however, before she attempted to reach out to them, she wanted to get ahold of herself, to stop the shaking and regain all the strength in her limbs. 

Juliette meandered to the break room. Thankfully, no one occupied it. She took the seat at the bar closest to the wall, wanting to use it for extra support because the backless stool wouldn't suffice. Juliette had just set her bag on the seat beside her when Rooster slid into the room, flushed and wide-eyed. Juliette stood to face him, expecting him to blast her with the 'I Told You So' speech after warning her earlier that accidents happen even with the best of the best, but when she opened her mouth to stop it from happening, Rooster cut her off with, "Are you okay?"

The desperation and cracked voice took her aback. She figured he'd be concerned about her wellbeing, but this... "I'm okay. Are you okay? Is there any update on Phoenix and Bob?" Juliette replied, taking a few cautious steps forward when Rooster shook his head and bent over, bracing himself on his knees. 

"All I know is they're alive. I don't know how badly they're injured or-" Rooster straightened, his chest rising and falling heavily. "Where were you? I've been running all over base looking for you."

"I was hiding from Cyclone to avoid having him make me be seen by a doctor." She took a couple more steps toward him and repeated the question he hadn't answered. "Are you okay?"

Rooster looked at her like she was crazy. "You nearly died, and you're worried about hiding from Cyclone and if Phoenix and Bob are okay, if I'm okay, rather than- how are you-" Rooster pinched the bridge of his nose and momentarily squeezed his eyes shut. "No, Juliette. I'm not okay. I just listened to you nearly die over the radio. I heard you shouting for Coyote to wake up because you were about to crash into the ground and couldn't eject. I haven't felt that fucking useless since my mom passed because all I could do was watch her die, and I couldn't do a single God damn thing to save her just like today when you were in that plane and..."

Rooster trailed off, staring at her with a helplessness she'd never seen before. Juliette wanted to respond with words of comfort because he was evidently stressing over her near-death experience more than she was, although she was admittedly compartmentalizing it until she was alone. Still, no words Juliette thought of could suffice to alleviate his despair, so all that came out was a weak, "Bradley..."

Something about his name on her lips made him snap. He strode towards her, full of purpose. Halfway to her, Rooster said, "Please forgive me."

She tilted her head, confused. "What fo-"

Juliette never finished her sentence. Bradley's body and lips crashed into hers, his trembling hands grasping the sides of her face and his fingers curling painfully into her hair. He kissed Juliette like she was the air filling his lungs and giving him life, like he would die if he released her.

Juliette gripped his hips to hold herself upright as she stumbled backward until her back hit the wall. Bradley never let go of her, keeping the passionate, desperate kiss alive, pinning her against the wall with every inch of his body. Juliette didn't care. She could've stayed like this forever. A small moan of pleasure escaped her lips, but Bradley must've mistaken it as a sign he was hurting her because as suddenly as it all began, it ended just as quickly when Bradley swiftly untangled his fingers from her hair and released his grip on her face.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, his sorrowful brown eyes piercing hers. "I'm so sorry. I thought I lost you."

Juliette, still breathless from the unexpected but welcomed kiss, gently grabbed his hand and placed it over her erratically beating heart. "I'm right here, okay? Feel that? I'm very much alive and well."

Bradley nodded and braced his forehead against Juliette's, closing his eyes. His hand slid up to cup the back of her neck, the other slipping around her waist, effectively holding her into place. His mouth repeatedly opened as if Bradley wanted to say something, but nothing ever came out.

Juliette stood on her tiptoes and gave him a chaste kiss, holding back from giving him anything more because if he kissed her like that again, she'd ask him to take her to bed or lose her forever. Now was not the time with Phoenix and Bob's lives possibly in jeopardy. She'd be damned if she said she wasn't tempted to, though. Instead, Juliette wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled him into a deathly tight hug, squeezing her eyes shut and melting into his embrace. Without warning, the emotions from earlier today she'd so carefully compartmentalized came crashing down on her. Her shaking returned, followed by the knot in her throat. It finally dawned on Juliette how close she came to dying. A few hundred feet and the impeccable timing of her pilot waking up saved her life. Had Maverick not been in the air and locked onto Coyote, had Coyote not woken in time...

Juliette opened her eyes to find her vision blurry, but through her unshed tears, she saw Hangman quietly shutting the door. Realizing he'd been caught, he hurriedly put a finger to his lips, silently saying: Ignore me. I'm not here. Smiling softly, he winked at her and silently shut the door behind him. Juliette would have to thank him later. 

After what seemed like hours of Juliette and Rooster embracing each other, even though it was probably only a couple of minutes, they pulled apart, if only far enough to look at each other. Bradley wiped a few stray tears off Juliette's cheeks while she attempted to gather her composure. He asked, "What were you doing here before I barged in? I thought you would've headed home."

Juliette shrugged. "I was going to wait for Maverick and check on him. I think nearly losing Coyote, me, Phoenix, and Bob in less than two minutes freaked him out more than he's willing to admit. I was going to check on you too. After our conversation today about accidents, I figured you'd be a little on edge too."

"A little?" Rooster echoed. "I think we can both say I was more than a little on edge. I lost my God damn mind."

Juliette gave him a small, guilty smile. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"I'm sorry for making an unwanted advance on you just now."

She shook her head. "Don't apologize for that. Just make sure next time you do it, we're not in a public building because I don't think I could restrain myself from taking you to bed right then and there."

"You're expecting a next time?" Rooster countered, grinning impishly.

"You kiss me like that and tell me you're never going to do it again? Lieutenant, I'm offended. I know I'm oblivious, but not that badly."

"If you call me Lieutenant again, I will kiss you like I did for a second time, public space be damned."

Juliette bit her lip, barely refraining from taking him up on his dare. "Let's wait for an update on Phoenix and Bob, and if everything's good, then maybe we can head back to your room or my house where I can take you up on your dare and call you 'Lieutenant' all I want."

Bradley groaned. "You're playing a dangerous game, you know that?"

"Absolutely I do." Juliette patted him on the cheek. "I'm going to stay here until Maverick gets back, but if you want to go check on Phoenix and Bob, you can go."

"I know the hospital won't let me see them until they've run all their tests and whatnot, and I don't want to leave you. Not yet."

"I won't argue against that, although I might not be much for conversation with all the work I have to get done unless you want to hear me ramble about it."

"You can ramble about anything you want to, and I'll listen," Bradley told her, smiling adoringly at her. Then, he added, "Well, as long as it doesn't involve Hangman."

Juliette laughed. "You don't have to worry about that."

The two of them slid into the stools, and Jules spread out her work on the bar, settling in for what she knew would be a long wait for an update on Phoenix and Bob.

***

Tags: @lgg5989@shanimallina87@polikszena@summ3rlotus@souslesyeuxde@gleasonmalfoy@icemansgirl1999@supernaturaldawning@thedarkinmansfield@lyannaforpresident@lapilark@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth@simpofthecentury @blueeyes-blueskye @gleasonmalfoy @armyx78 @always-abigails-blog @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

[acourtofsnakes]

Arir - Rogue, Chapter 2| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (F)

Summary: After giving up, you and the Mandalorian go back to his ship, travelling out of Sorgan and back into space. It’s a long trip through hyperspace... there’s only so long you can ignore each other for. The differences between you and your hidden secret might cause clashes.. but when the time comes, will you act? Or not? 

Warnings: swearing, injury detail, mentions of death/war etc, degradation (not in a nice way), flirtation/suggestive themes and the such? Let me know if I’ve forgotten anything. 

AN: Thank you all for the love on the first chapter!! Let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!!

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Word count: 6789

Also, the planet in which we visit here is the unnamed industrial planet from Season 2, Episode 1 with the creatures that like the dark. 

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar​ @weirdowithnobeardo

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl

Mando’a Translation: Arir - To act

You swam around in hazy darkness for a while, in no rush to wake up. You were free from pain here, free from running, and from being hunted. It was… peaceful. You liked it here. 

Unfortunately, this is your life. And you don’t have such good luck. Noise began to filter through the haze in your mind, the beeping of machinery and the muffled whir of engines.

You groaned softly, your head feeling like it was full of rocks as you forced open your eyes, blinking a few times. You looked around, seeing a holding area on what appeared to be the inside of a ship.

You were seated on the floor, the cold metal seeping through your trousers and as you pulled yourself up more comfortably, you found that your hands were cuffed to a metal pipe on the wall of the ship. 

Opposite you, was a huge bank of… solid hunks of something, what looked like the bodies and faces of people and creatures stick in them. You frowned, squinting in the low light and then you realised that they were. Humans, creatures big and small, all trapped screaming in carbonite.

Brilliant.

Maybe the fact you were supposedly such a high bounty would keep you far away from being trapped in that.

Resting your head back, you stared at a spot in the corner of the room, just thinking. It took you a while, but you suddenly realised that your shoulder had been bound. It still hurt so much, but the wrappings around it kept it somewhat stable.

Interesting. The Mandalorian had wrapped your wounds before cuffing you in this holding cell of his ship.

-

It might have been hours later, but you were awoken from a light doze by boots thudding softly down the hall and then the Mandalorian was walking over, stopping in front of you, “Wake up.” He nudged your feet with his own, earning a groan from you.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to wake someone up when they’re asleep?” You glared at him, tilting your head back to look up at the impassive expression of the helmet.

He replied easily without missing a beat, “Don’t you know it’s rude to call someone heartless when you don’t even know who they are?”

You smiled slowly, dropping your eyelids to half-mast, “Uncuff me and we can get to know each other just fine, tin can.”

The eye roll was practically audible, but he knelt down, moving close to you as he reached for your wrist, “I was thinking we could keep the cuffs on.”

Maker, the way his voice dropped, that rasp coming through the modulator, his scent washed over you, smoke, metal and something else, something citrusy almost.

You swallowed, having not expected him to play back so quickly, thrown off.

He snickered, actually laughing as he undid the cuffs, snapping them back over your wrists, “You set yourself up for that one, sweetheart.” His voice betrayed the smirk that was clearly under the beskar as he pulled you to your feet. He pulled you past the carbonite chamber, round the corner and through the ship until you got to a ladder, “Go on.”

You looked up, then over your shoulder at him, “You want me to climb a ladder with my hands cuffed?” You raised your eyebrow, well aware of your own skill to be able to do so. After all, you’d been cuffed and still escaped with your wrists bound so many times, you’d lost count. Didn’t mean you couldn’t poke him a little. 

Your protest was met with a tilt of his helmet, his voice dripping in false sweetness, “I saw you run across the canopy of a tree like you were flying. I think you’ll be able to manage this, princess.” He just stood there, watching you, one hand resting on his hip.

A few seconds passed, but you turned, giving in and climbing the ladder, resting your wrists on the rung above for balance. Maybe throwing a little extra sway into your hips as you rose up into what appeared to be a cockpit. Climbing out was a little difficult, the tin can below making no effort to help you.

When you got back to your feet, you looked around. It was cosy up here, two seats, big open windows that gave you a view to the outside, the stars blinking around the ship, scattered across the never-ending blackness.

The lights inside flickered on and off, instruments making soft beeps now and then. Resting to the side, was a metal sphere, sort of hovering there gently. That must be the Child, nestled inside, sleeping safely. And on top…

Duru.

Curled up with her nose tucked under her leg, her tail swishing gently.

You made a soft noise, taking a step toward her because you had been convinced that she was gone, deep in the forest.

The Mandalorian’s voice came from behind you suddenly, “By the time I’d carried you back to the ship, she was already at my feet. Lucky I have armour. Your little friend has a hell of a set of claws on her. I can see why she likes you.”

Something warm stirred in your chest as you beheld her sleeping form. She’d come back to you, tried to defend you. It warmed you so much, that you didn’t protest as the Mandalorian tugged you to the other chair, unbinding your wrists and instead attaching each one to either arm of the chair. He then settled into the pilots’ seat, leaning back, his legs spread naturally, and his arms crossed over his stupidly broad chest.

And just looked at you.

You blinked, shifting in your seat as you gazed back at him, raising an eyebrow faintly, “What?”

Nothing. He said nothing. Just kept looking at you. It was like you could feel his eyes running over you, burning into your skin and turning you inside out.

The seconds ticked by, minutes maybe and you started to get uncomfortable. “If you’re trying to undress me with your eyes, it’s not working.”

His arms relaxed, his hands coming to rest on his thighs, “I’m trying to work it out.”

You frowned in confusion, “Work what out?”

A tilt of the head, “Why your bounty is so high. You mess with the wrong people?”

You rolled your eyes, “No. I thought you didn’t care? I was just a bounty to you?” 

He ignored you, maybe made a tiny huff, but still kept his head tilted, “Kill someone?”

 You leant back in the chair, swinging it from side to side gently, “I think we covered that base already, tin can.”

“You steal something?” 

“Only your heart.” You smiled an overly sweet smile, fluttering your eyelashes at him. “Not even close.”

A thoughtful noise filtered through the modulator, “High class runaway bride from an arranged marriage?”

You stared at him, blinking once and then you burst out laughing, “Yeah, sure. I was engaged to a member of one of the Elder Houses. It was the night before my wedding and I couldn’t take it, so I ran away with all my upper class Lady-ness” You still laughed, shaking your head, “I thought you were supposed to be smart. You really think I’m of noble heritage and class?”

Mandalorian shrugged carelessly, “You’re self-righteous enough.”

“I’d rather be self-righteous than a pretentious asshole like you.”

“Did I say there was a difference?” He still faced you, assessing you. It made your skin prickle and you weren’t sure if it was entirely with discomfort.

“Did you get in with the wrong people? Make some bad friends?” Something occurred to him, something you said during your fight, “Are you a Jedi?”

Too far.

You stared at him, eyes suddenly like ice, “Stop. I’m not telling you, so stop asking.” Way too far.

“What is it? It must be something bad, I’ve seen the list that came before me, and who employed them. Only someone to do with the Jedi would pull in that much of a bounty so y-“

You cut across him, the playfulness dropping from your voice and leaving it dripping with cold fire, a stirring deep within you, a whisper of power. “Enough. I am nothing to you but your bounty, remember? Drop it.”

 Before he could even form the words, his sniping protest was cut off by Duru awakening with a chitter, springing into your lap and then climbing up around your shoulders. Seconds later, the cradle opened, and its little green inhabitant sat up with a coo, looking straight at you.

Stars above, he was adorable.

Your lips melted back into a grin as you beheld his sort of wrinkled green face, large glossy black eyes blinking at you and the most adorable floppy bat ears. You laughed a little, “well, I can see why you went rogue for him. He’s the sweetest little thing.” You tilted your head, cooing back at him, “Hi, sweetie, look at you…”

The Mandalorian spun round, pressing a button on his wrist and the sphere snapped shut suddenly, “Don’t touch him. Or look at him. Leave him alone.”

You shifted a look of disbelief at him, eyebrows raised, “What, because I might hurt him by being strapped to a chair? Well done, Mando, you got it. I’m being hunted by so many people because I take one look at wrinkly, green babies and they die.” You threw your eyes up toward the ceiling yet again, this time with a noise of incredulity. 

“Stop rolling your eyes at me.” His snarl both brought a shit-eating grin to your lips and made your toes curl. You chose to ignore the latter.

You laughed, still grinning as you leant forward as much as your bonds would allow, “Why, does it turn you on?”

You were rewarded with a growl this time and he turned his chair round to face the front of the ship, so quickly you were surprised he didn’t come full circle and face you again.

The seething silence was broken by a soft shwoomp and the cradle opened once more. The Child sat back up, looking at you with a tilted head like his father, those big bat ears lifting.

You lifted your fingers, wiggling them at him in a silent hello, earning yourself a delighted gurgle.  Sweet little thing. The wall of beskar in front of you clearly had a soft heart underneath all that armour. 

You leant back in the chair, pondering that for a little while, Duru’s tail hanging over your chest and brushing your forearm every now and then. The darkness outside the walls of the ship, the muffled hum of the engine and the occasional beeps of machinery provided a soft ambience that had your eyelids starting to droop. You hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in… forever. At least here, in the Razor Crest, there was some level of safety, enough that you could allow yourself to relax.

No!! Stop! You are in a ship, piloted by the rogue Mandalorian who is taking you back to Maker knows where for a large sum of money!

Wake. Up! 

Your head jerked up and you shook it, trying to clear the sleepy haze from it. Maybe you should ask for a medic. Your judgement seemed to be failing you rather a lot lately.

Casting your eyes around, you looked for something to talk about, anything to keep yourself awake. You landed on Grogu’s crib again. “So… you’re really just... doing this on your own?” 

Curiosity clearly got the better of him, because his voice filtered out through the helmet, that arrogant tone edging his words, “Do you see anyone else with me?”

You made a thoughtful noise, “I mean… keeping an eye out for people chasing you, taking jobs and hunting… all whilst looking after the kid at the same time… Aren’t you tired?”

“Don’t these kinds of questions come after we’ve known each other more than 6 hours?” He sounded bored, but you didn’t fail to notice the way his hand tightened on the controls.

 Clearly you were hitting a nerve. And you weren’t going to let it drop, “But going to all these planets, doing what you do… not knowing who to trust…”

“Enough. Stop talking, if you can manage that.” That word was an order, your own word thrown right back at you in a low, gritted tone.

You raised an eyebrow at him – well, the back of his head, “You’re the one that brought me up here. You could have left me shackled to the pipes downstairs and saved yourself the annoyance.” 

Mandalorian made a noise of what could have been frustration or regret at that decision, “I brought you up here so I could keep an eye on you. I don’t trust you down there.”

Now that brought a smirk to your lips, “You think I could have gotten out.” It wasn’t a question. “Afraid I’ll find your weapons and slit your throat?” 

The ship glided easily through the vast openness of stars and darkness, falling around you like you were the only people in the galaxy.

He snorted, “Please don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. The day you can do that is the day the stars implode.”

You rolled your eyes at the back of his head, resting your cheek against Duru’s tail. Dick.

Movement caught your eye and Mando turned to face you, his hands on his thighs after seemingly putting the ship on autopilot, “I thought I told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “I thought I asked if it turned you on. You never answered.” 

You could almost hear the smirk in his voice, “And if it does?” That rasp had dropped, caressing your bones, sliding over them with a dark whisper. He had leant forward in his chair, hands sliding down his thighs and you couldn’t help but look at them, the way they spread over the amour plates. Fuck.

You shifted your eyes back up to him, willing your cheeks not to flush with the unbidden thoughts “I thought I was nothing more than a bounty to you?” You raised an eyebrow, fingers tapping on the arms of the chair. You were only his bounty… so... why this flirting?

Mandalorian laughs, as if sensing your thoughts, “Relax, I’m just playing with you.” He shrugged easily, “I brought you up here because…” He hesitated, immediately piquing your curiosity.

“Because?” 

He almost sighed a little bit, “Because you gave in. Usually, they only give in when they know they’re dead. They give in because they think I’ll let them go. But with you…” He tilted his head a little, ”I could tell it wasn’t that.”

Your eyes flickered over his helmet, debating whether or not to talk to this man. He was here on the request and money of someone who wanted you. But… it had been so long since you had someone to talk to… And your instincts weren’t screaming at you that this man was dangerous. In fact, they were oddly silent. “I gave up because… you were right. So many people have died because of me. Whether they were people that I knew, or people that were… collateral damage. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else dying for me. It makes me sick; I hate myself for it. Even if I had gotten away from you, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

Mando’s voice was almost… soft, “Why not?”

You swallowed, just knowing he must have seen it, “Because even though you gave me a choice… to give in or be dragged in dead... someone else would have come after me. Someone else who no doubt wouldn’t have given me that choice. And… I’m just tired.” You hated the way your voice broke on that last word, hated that you’d just revealed all of that to a Mandalorian of all people. But it had happened anyway. No more. No more talking.

He stayed looking at you for a long while, perhaps debating whether to say something. He just nodded very slightly, and then turned back to the controls.

 ~

The next few hours slipped past… easily. You spent some of it in silence, some if in just absent conversation, as if he wasn’t a Mandalorian and you weren’t a bounty handcuffed to a chair.

 He took you to another part of the ship when night rolled around – not that you’d know with the endless stars, but you supposed he had an internal body clock that ran a routine. It was a sort of storage room, cramped with boxes but it was warm and quiet, just the hum of the engines. Upon arrival, you’d noticed that he’d cleared a space in the corner, laid some blankets out.

You hadn’t been able to help expressing your surprise, “No wonder you have such a high success rate. This is luxury compared to what some of us bounties live in.” 

He’d shrugged again, but something about the way he held his body and his voice had sounded… bashful? “There’s not many sleeping spaces in the ship and… you’re not a murderer or a criminal so…” He shrugged, almost floundering, “As far as I know. I just… thought it might be more comfortable. Besides, I couldn’t leave you in the cockpit, who knows if you’d get that cat of yours to do something.“

“Mando. Thank you.” You had cut him off before he dug himself a deeper hole, the atmosphere becoming a little odd. He had let you lie down – then re-cuffed one of your wrists to the wall, and then went on his way.

 Sleep came quickly that night, exhaustion weighing your lips down again but not before you’d sat and pondering the last 4 hours in your head. You’d said more to him about yourself than you had anyone in… years. Weird. Best not dwell on it.

 ~

 A soft cry woke you what seemed like minutes later, echoing down from the belly of the ship. You sat up, awkwardly, one hand still attached to the wall, ears pricked and listening. It came again, a pitiful cry that you realised was the Child, who had seemingly woken up in the night. You listened for a while, waiting to hear if Mando came but he didn’t.

You couldn’t just leave the Child to cry… what if he’d had a bad nightmare?

Looking at the cuff on your wrist thoughtfully, you reached into your hair, braided back. He clearly hadn’t noticed, but you kept long pins in your hair, the pretence of keeping wisps back from your face. Really though, they were a weapon, specially crafted pins with sharp ends that would hurt an incredible amount if jammed into someone’s eye. They also came in pretty handy as lock picks and you’d used them on more than one occasion to get out of cuffs.

They were one of your most prized belongings. And they would come in perfectly handy right now.

Within seconds, you were free, padding down the hall quietly as you made your way up to the next level, following the crying.

You’d located his little compartment not long later and it opened at your touch.

Inside, bundled in soft rags and blankets, was Grogu. He was sitting up, his big bat ears hanging down and cries emanating from such a tiny body, straight to your heart.

You pouted a little, reaching in and gently picking him up, “Hey… none of that, little one. What’s wrong?” You held him against your hip, instinct taking over and you began to rock gently, your hand lifting to stroke his floppy ears.

Grogu cried still, little stubby hands curling into fists in your cloak as you rocked him. Maybe he’d had a bad dream after all?

You thought back, trying to remember when you were young, scared or upset and what your mother would sing to you. You looked down at the Child, the words coming back easily and then you began to sing, softly. At the same time, you began walking up and down in front of his compartment, adding a gentle rock still to give him a reassuring movement.

Almost at once, his cries stopped, instead turning to sniffly gasps of air and he tilted his head curiously at you, perhaps wondering what you were doing.

As if you could understand him somehow, you smiled around the lyrics of the song, just a lullaby your mother always used to coax you back to sleep.

It took you five repetitions of the song, countless steps up and down but finally, finally his little green head slumped against your chest, his breathing slowing and ears relaxing.

You let out a soft breath of relief, singing the song so quietly now, keeping up your routine just to make sure the kid stayed out.

 Unfortunately, other people didn’t seem to share that idea and footsteps came clanging down the hall, running. At once, Mando’s voice appeared before he did, “Leave him alone, whatever you are doing, put him down. You will NOT hurt him, I’ll-“ He rounded the corner, armour on and blaster raised.

“Shhhh!” You glared at him, cradling the back of the Child’s head and you hissed at the Mandalorian, “Do you want him to wake back up?! It’s taken me 20 minutes to get him to go back to sleep. If you wake him up, I will put you in the refresher until your precious armour rusts.”

He made a noise, his blaster still hovering in the air, “It’s beskar. It can’t rust. And you weren’t where I left you, your cuffs were on the floor and I couldn’t hear Grogu.”

He checked on you? Choosing to ignore that bit, you merely raised your eyebrows at him, “So you assumed… what? That I was hurting him?” You made a noise of disbelief, “Relax, tin can, it’s past midnight. I won’t turn into a child eating monster until tomorrow.” You shook your head, turning your back on him as you rocked Grogu again, walking back to the compartment.

His footsteps sounded from behind you, following you like a ghost, “You got him to sleep?”

You carefully disentangled Grogu from your cloak, placing him back inside his little nest. “Yes.” The word was clipped as you made sure he was tucked in warm and safe, shut the compartment and then turned to look at Mando, starting a little when you saw just how close he was to you and so you crossed your arms.

His helmet was tilted down to look at you and he slowly put the blaster away, “It usually takes me a lot longer to get him down.” His voice was quiet as he admitted this to you, “What was that you were singing to him? I heard you just before…”

You flicked your eyes over the visor of his helmet, wondering if you’d tell him. There was no harm in it, your mother was gone. It wouldn’t hurt her, “It’s a lullaby that my mother used to sing for me.”

He nodded a little after a second or two, “It sounded beautiful. Thank you… for seeing to him.” 

You mimicked his nod, loosening your arms to your sides, “You don’t need to worry, Mandalorian. I’m not going to hurt him. Or you. So you can stop acting like I’m a monster.” Please. It’s bad enough that I think that about myself. I don’t need another person thinking it too.

He stepped back, but his voice was soft when he next spoke, “I’m sorry. I know… It’s just instinct. You know, with the kid.” He gestured toward where Grogu now slept and his helmet lingered toward you before he turned and went back to wherever he came from, allowing you to go back to your space unattended. Clearly proving that he believed you.

It left you confused, this hot and cold behaviour, the lingering atmosphere.

-

The next day, the Mandalorian informed you that he was picking up another bounty on the way to wherever he was taking you. It wouldn’t take long, just a quick stop on a small industrial planet and then you’d be back on your way.

You merely nodded, keeping quiet today after revealing so much yesterday. 

He left you to your own devices, brining you up to the cockpit with him again, but not cuffing you this time. Like he trusted you not to kill him.

The day passed with little to no action, just travelling and idle chitchat and then you were back staring at the ceiling in your little nest before you knew it.

-

 Sleep must have taken you at some point, because when you woke up, the hum of the engines was silent. You figured you’d landed at this planet, so you got up, Duru back on your shoulders and went to look for Mando.

He wasn’t in the cockpit when you went up, but Grogu was in his cradle, so he can’t be far.

 A quick tour of the ship revealed nothing. Except that as you passed, you noticed the ramp was open, unguarded which was… odd. He wouldn’t just leave it open. You were a bounty, and he had a child that liked to explore. Maybe you’d just missed him somewhere.

You examined every inch of the ship twice more but… he just wasn’t there. All your search turned up was the weapons cabinet which he had seemingly left unlocked. It was extensive, holding many knives and daggers, blasters, grenades of different types and some things you’d never seen before. Impressive. Your bow wasn’t there, but your vibroblade was, so after a moment’s hesitation, you’d slipped it back into the sheath on your thigh.

Your footsteps seemed far too loud as you crept back toward the open ramp of the ship. Something wasn’t right.

Weapons cabinet unlocked. Grogu unguarded. Your cuffs left off and the ramp open. Had something happened to him?

Unless… unless this was a trap, and he’d done it on purpose.

Why would he be setting a trap? Where would I run to even if I did escape? He said he’d trusted me and he left me uncuffed.

A frown fell on your face as you reached the top of the ramp, staring into the empty street beyond.

There was no sign of him. No sign of anyone, actually. The street was almost pitch black, pockets of light beneath streetlamps providing the only clues to where you were. Jagged structures were silhouetted from the light, structures that look like metal, sharp edges and hard landscaping. Must be some kind of industrial planet. And where the light from lamps or buildings didn’t reach… were those red eyes glowing in the dark? Nevermind. It seemed clear.  So… do you go?

You bit your lip, fiddling with the edge of your cloak, booted foot tapping on the metal ramp. If he hadn’t done this to purposefully trap… you could escape. Wouldn’t have to face whatever was coming for you. You could back out of the decision you made back on Sorgan.

Something made you glance back, up at the ceiling where you knew Grogu’s crib sat in the cockpit. He’d be fine. He was safe in there. The ramp would probably close when you left it anyway.

You made a soft noise of annoyance at yourself, at your hesitation. Yes, you’d given up on Sorgan, but maybe you were a little hasty in that department. No matter. Time to go.

You squared your shoulders, lifting your cloak so it covered your head and Duru’s body around your shoulders and began to make your way down the ramp and into the quiet street. The air was a little chilly, smelling like oil, smoke and metal.

In the distance, you could hear rumbling, fighting almost. People came from the distance, rough looking people. Different species, some more humanoid with tails or claws, others straight up… monsters.

Okay… so maybe you should get off of this planet as soon as you could.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice the few people that were lingering about were sticking to the bubbles of light on the floor or coming from windows. If they had to cross through shadow and darkness, they ran through it quickly, really quickly.

Maybe you were right about the eyes in the dark.

A noise to your left caught your attention, a soft whine of a noise coming from a dark corner. You slowed down, something snagging at you. It sounded like… something was in pain. Something was hurt. You tilted your head, feeling Duru’s warm breath in your ear, wondering if you should help.

Another pitiful whimper rose from the darkness and had you walking over, stepping out of the light and into the shadow of the street. You looked around, blinking to get your eyes adjusted, looking for the source of the whimpers. You reached out, feeling for the edge of the building that shoulder be somewhere around here, but instead of feeling hard metal, you felt… flesh.

 Flesh?

 Yes. Warm, scaled, wet flesh. Something sticky dripped onto your hand, a low snarl coming above your head, and in your mind, you had a flash of some great, terrible creature, with those glowing red eyes, a mouthful of sharp teeth, dripping with blood-

Duru hissed, a warning yowl coming from her chest, her claws digging into your shoulder.

That decided it.

 You bolted, turning around and practically flying back into the light, toward the little bubbles of sanctuary and it occurred to you, that you probably looked as crazy as the other villagers.

Okaaay, maybe definitely NOT the best idea to leave the Razor Crest.

A shudder licked down your spine and you began to walk again, making sure to keep in the pools of light on the floor. You were at a bit of a loss. Do you go back to the ship? Or carry on going?

 Today was just full of decisions wasn’t it.

 You kept walking, aiming for the building just ahead that looked like a cantina, when a metallic thud resounded in the alley way next to you.  You kept your eyes planted firmly ahead, ignoring it. No more going into dark alleyways, especially not here.

 A familiar, raspy voice broke the silence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re wrong.”

Ah. Mando. So that’s where he was. No matter. Let him have a fight in an alleyway. He’d win anyway, obviously.

You shook your head, looking toward the cantina again but… it seemed your feet had decided to stop obeying your head. You were moving, but toward the edge of the alleyway, hiding against the corner and peering around the wall.

The Mandalorian was being pinned against a wall by a guy just as tall as him, human looking except for the long tail that rose from behind him, black and scaly and ending in a sharp looking barb that made your skin crawl.

“Liar.” The snarl was punctuated with the sound of Spikey pulling a knife from his thigh, shrill where he dragged it over the beskar- “There’s no one else around, Mandalorian so tell me. Now. Where. Is. She?” Each word was accentuated with a punch. “You’ve got her trussed up on that ship of yours? Give her to me.”

An uncomfortable feeling began to creep over you, like you knew what they were talking about. 

Mando grunted in pain again, his voice taut, “Get it through that thick skull of yours. I don’t have her.” He lifted his arm, clearly about to burn this creep.

Too slow. What was wrong with him?

The guy with the spikey tail grabbed Mando’s wrist and slammed it against the wall next to his head. “I know you have her. You had her fob in your pocket. She’s on your ship.”

 Because of you. He was getting beaten because of you. Why wasn’t he giving you up? Did he really want the money over your head that badly?  What was wrong with him? He always wins… why wasn’t he winning? You frowned, peering further around the alleyway and then it dawned on you.

Blood. Coating the armour of his knee, turning the metal slick and shiny red. It must have been bad, he looked like he could barely keep his weight on it.

 Spikey Tail laughed suddenly, leaning in close and kicking Mando’s leg, earning another gritted cry, “Oooh, you freak. You wanna keep her don’t you? Gonna turn her into a toy to keep you entertained on your travels? Must get lonely on that ship, I don’t blame you. She looked like she’d be a good little slu-“

His words were cut short, Mando’s free hand jamming into the guys throat, squeezing and choking off his air.

You saw the mistake just before the Mandalorian seemed to realise it himself. He’d left his side exposed, open to attack.

This was bad. This was really, really bad. You didn’t know why he was defending you, but he was. And because of it -

 A raspy, choked groan of pain brought you back to the present.

The guy with the spikey tail had seen the opening, jamming his knife in Mando’s side behind the armour plates, a cruel, long serrated blade. Spikey’s face lit up when he heard the noise of pain coming from the other man, and with a chilling laugh, he twisted the knife, pushing it in deeper to the hilt.  

Instinct took over and suddenly you were running down the alleyway, barely feeling Duru scramble down your body and run toward Mando. You were too busy careening straight into Spikey’s side. The force of your run and surprise allowed you to knock him back, away from Mando and land a sharp kick to his rib. You quickly sent a punch to his face, feeling a tooth knock loose before hands game up and pushed you back, toward the shadows at the edges of the alleyway.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing, bitch?!” Spikey’s tail flicked in annoyance as he moved back into the light, as if the darkness burned. Or bit.

As he came forward, his bloody face split into another grin as he recognised you,  “Oh. So, he DID have you after all. I thought you’d be strung to a bed, laying all pretty and open for him to get back.” 

A noise of disgust came from your throat, “What the fuck is wrong with this planet?” You leapt for him again, a swift uppercut to his jaw, and then into his throat. “Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of.”

Spikey Tail snarled, his head jerking forward and connecting with yours with a force that had stars bursting in your eyes. The distraction cost you a foot in your ribs and you swore you heard one of them crack. “Slut. I’m going to break you like I did your friend here and then get that bounty. Might even ask if I could keep you.”

You shook the haze from your head, trying to draw him away from the Mandalorian, “You talk way too much for being in a fight.” You lifted your fists, ignoring the screaming pain in your side, every breath you took. Feeling like shards of glass.  

A noise, almost like a snort came from the semi-conscious beskar-clad man behind you. It seemed he was thinking back to your fight on Sorgan.

You looked over your shoulder at him, raising your eyebrows but then, before you could answer, a hand was around your throat and you were thrown up against the wall. Quite literally, your feet dangled a few inches above the ground, held up by whatever freak strength Spikey Tail had.

“You fight hard. But you’re weak. I don’t know who they sent after you before, but they were incompetent. Even the famous Mandalorian couldn’t bring you in.” His hand tightened around your throat, making the already difficult task of breathing become even harder. “I never fancied myself a bounty hunter, but maybe I’ll change my mind once I get my hands on that big fat reward over your head” He leant in and the stench of rotten meat and stale alcohol washed over you, making you gag.

He laughed, and his tail came up and round him, the barb on the end dragging over your cheek and feeling like a lick of fire, “And then I’ll get my hands on you.” He looked down at you, as if he could see beneath your clothes, his eyes becoming glazed in a way that had your blood running cold, “I bet you feel so good. Imagine all of the things I could do to a little slut like you. The pretty noises you’d make for me.” His head tilted back up, coming closer to yours as he dropped his gaze to your lips.

You struggled, gasping for air as you felt your head swim, scrambling for your knife. 

Your power, use your power. Just use it, get him away, kill him, choke him. Just get him away from you and Mando- 

A blast echoed in the alleyway, and Spikey grunted in pain, slumping forward slightly. You saw your opening, finally grasping slick fingers on the hilt of your blade and you yanked it free of your thigh, swinging it up and jamming it into his neck.

He let go of you and went down instantly as you severed the arteries in his throat, spraying you with hot blood.

You collapsed to your knees, pushing his body away as you began coughing, working air into your protesting lungs. Nausea washed over you as the movement jolted your ribs, making you realise there had to be more than one broken.

You lifted your head, eyes searching and then you found him.

Slumped on the floor, head tilted to the side resting on his shoulder like it was too heavy to keep up, facing you. Movement had your gaze dropping as his hand fell to the floor, holding his blaster.

He’d shot Spikey, he’d… saved your life? Just like you’d saved his..

You stared at the Mandalorian for a moment, panting as you still tried to breathe, your knife still in your hand dripping blood. Suddenly, you let go of it and you were crawling across the floor to him, your hands knocking his out of the way and pushing against the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

Wait. What were you doing?

You blinked, looking down at your hands, then back up at his helmet. You could see your expression reflected in the visor. Your eyes were a little wide, a spray of blood on your face from the man you just killed, for the one who’s life you were trying to keep in his body. Your neck was ringed in red, the cut on your cheek bleeding slowly. 

Run. Leave him and run. 

He looked back up at you, slumped on the ground, one blood-soaked hand on his chest where you had pushed it away from his wound.  

Leave him. He’s only going to turn you in. RUN.

Your hands began to lift, but then stopped, hesitating and then returning as fresh, hot blood ran down his side. No. You couldn’t leave him here. 

Yes. You should. He doesn’t have any hope in getting up and coming after you. Find the fob, destroy it and get out of here. He means nothing to you and you mean nothing to him. You are prey and he is the hunter.

But… he’d saved you… and you had saved him. He trusted you.

You swallowed, your mind a frenzy of reasons, choices, trying to figure out what to do. Your survival instinct was screaming at you, run, run, run, but… Look at him. You could hear the jagged breaths coming through the helmet, static crackling through the modulator.

His attacker was already turning cold behind you, killed by your hand as easy as drawing a breath. You had saved the Mandalorian and now, he lay dying in front of you. If you ran, he would bleed out in a couple of hours, dumped in some back alley. His life was in your hands, literally, warm and wet and coming far too quickly.

This had to be clear on your face, in your eyes as you debated whether to safe yourself or him. Be brave or a coward. Act or run.

A soft noise crackled through his helmet, and you looked back up at him, but he said nothing. No sniping comments about being a coward, no pleas to save his life. Nothing. Silence. Letting you decide his fate as if deciding what to have for dinner.

 So… what should you do?

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[sp00kworm]

Under the Old Oak (The Lord of Darkness x Reader)

Pairing: The Lord of Darkness x Reader

Warnings: Adult Content

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The forest was vast in the Kingdom. The Princess had her champion, even if he was not truly hers, and the realm was restored to peace and warmth. The winter, however, still arrived, though it was not as brutal as it once was. The snow was light, and the air was bitter, but no gales battered the lands. It was almost a peaceful winter. You’d spent the winter mornings breathing the cold air, wandering the woodlands in search of foxes and squirrels as you scribbled ditties into the journal. Music was perhaps the only joy you had anymore, and even Princess Lili was amused by the folk tales. The winter, however, was gone, and so spring had overtaken the trees, bursting forth bluebells heavy with flowers and delicate snowdrops which swayed in the breeze. The trees were bursting with new buds of growth, light, new green leaves bursting from curled up shells, but there was not yet enough of them to block the sun and create a canopy. You let out a breath of warm air into the cool morning and watched it drift away into the trees before you avoided a fairy circle of toadstools and tutted.  

 “You are mischievous and rude.” You uttered to the giggling sprites which had laid the trap on the route they knew you took every morning, “And to think I bring you cakes!” You teased as you threw your lunch muffin in the air.

The sprites gasped and darted for the muffin, their sparkly magic light glowing as they each took a sniff and a nibble at the candied fruit decorating the top, “It was a joke!” They giggled as they dragged away the muffin into their mossy homes, “Thank you!” They jeered together as crumbs fell into your hair. You brushed the mess out of your hair before continuing down the mossy path, bouncing around the poisonous toadstools and circles of stones before you reached the stream. It was shallow with the lack of rainfall yet, and you hopped along the deep-set stones, wetting your boots as you went across to reach the soggy bank on the other side. The mud slapped against your boots and you laughed as you headed towards the old oak tree. It sat away from the bank; its roots protected from the constant onslaught of water which would cause it to rot in the silty dirt. With a sigh, you tugged your scarf tighter and sat back against the mossy bed at the base, breathing in the fresh air as the stream trickled on in the background.

 After a few more moments of peace, you reached for your satchel and pulled free your journal from the leather bag with your pencil. Your hand harp came out next and you undid the cloth around it to play a little tune, filling the air with a simple set of scaling notes to check the tuning of the instrument. With a twist of one string, it was into the correct range and you opened your notes to look at the new song you have been working on. It was an old ditty, something that your grandmother had sung you as a child before she passed, and you were determined to rewrite the lyrics for the new legend. The old one was a sad tale, of the darkness being born and spreading sadness throughout the land, but you figured the new tale should be something joyful, with an ending that reflected the new era of light that had been bestowed on the world.

“What have I written?” You asked yourself as you opened the page the song was scrawled on, barely able to read your own writing half of the time. With a squint, you started to pluck at the strings, softly, letting the notes gently hang in the air as you opened your mouth to hum the words quietly.

“Under the old oak tree, boughs cast shadows of dark and silt.” You swayed softly, “In the shadow sits eyes of glittering green, watching a maiden of white and snow.” The harp sung with you as you gently continued into the old verse and rolled the words around in your mouth, thinking about how to change them.

 “Darkness, temptress, wanted one true love. The Maiden’s honour was not his to tempt, and hero slayed him with the sword.” A couple of sprites listened quietly in the branches over your head before glittering and dashing down into the water to pluck at the new water clovers growing in the silt. With a hum and a flourish, you continued, “The fairest maid denied his request, leaving him in shadows and dust, only for her handsome champion, to part ways when the sun rose up.”

A rabbit snuffled at your boot as you continued, “Daylight blinds her heart, when demons sit afar.” With a soft whistle you continued on, tapping your foot to the beat as you blended into a soft, harp solo and finished with a gentle smile. The rabbit sat quietly, chewing on bluebells before it twitched, its eyes wide with fright as its ears flicked. It twitched again before bolting for the trees and its warren. You jumped with fright as a fox tore past you, hot on the creature’s tail, its teeth snatching at the cotton tail of the rabbit. With a gasp you looked away as the fox caught it by the back legs and tried to ignore the scuffle as it continued into the grass and plants away from you. There was a rush of fur and you looked on sadly as the fox carted its kill past you, dripping with blood. There were squeals in the brush and you tried to take solace in the fact that the mother was feeding her new pups.

 Silence stretched out as you scribbled in the notebook, singing soft lines as the air grew warmer and warmer around you, stretching past midday. A few sprites came along to sit on your harp as you continued to sing about the end of the Darkness.

“Darkness sleeps in hearts of man, cruelty and hate combined he thrives.” You whispered, “Yet light blinds and he sleeps he sleeps.”

“A beautiful ditty.” A voice rumbled from behind you, “In details, however, it is wrong.” A beautiful timbre caressed your ears, deep and filled with wisdom of a thousand ages.

You clutched your handheld harp close and looked around the clearing, “Who are you? Where are you hiding?”

“Nowhere. I do not hide. You are sat in the shadows.” The voice purred, “Here I am.”

You flinched as you peered at the long shadows of midday, “The shadows? No creature is shadow.”

“I am no creature.” It purred, “I am the shadows. I am the darkness you are sat in.” It promised, “Can you not see me?”

 You looked at the floor and then peered hard at the shadows of the roots before two burning green eyes appeared in the darkness followed by a great smile, pointed fangs snapping before the smile melted away again.

“I am weak here, but I listened to your song. I heard you speak of me, sweetest thing.” The green eyes burned as they watched you.

“Why are you listening?” You asked, fear clutching at your heart, “I’m singing a song of what happened.”

“And your song is beautiful. You speak of the Darkness. I am he.” The Darkness purred as though his mouth was pressed to your ear.

“The Darkness is dead and gone. He was destroyed.” You whispered to the green eyes, “Everyone knows he is dead.”

“Dead?” The creature laughed, “Darkness cannot die, for the folly of man is where I reside. Every human is cruel and foul, and so I will never see an end.” He promised with another hiss, the teeth snapping in the shadows and disappearing once again as he moved along the shadowed roots, peering out from another hole.

 “Are you here to goad me…Am I to face the pits of your foul home?” Resolve held your words together as you peered into his burning eyes.

A great, deep chuckle resounded in your ears, and you felt the exhale against the hairs on the back of your neck. He laughed again at your shivering.

“Do you think me a liar? I have told you. I heard your song and came here to listen closer.” A black talon peaked from the shadow before curling back into the darkness.

“Isn’t lying your speciality, oh Lord of Sin.” You spat as you took a step back towards the sunlight.

“Lying? It is a sin, but I do not lie. Witches have pacts with me, I do not lie to them about power. I did not lie to the oh so fair maiden in your tale. She was to be mine. If she did that, she would have been a Queen.” He hissed from the shadows, “Do not twist my words, mortal. I too was lied to in that story.”

“Did you not deserve it? You corrupt the innocent and wanted permanent darkness and death. Those are hardly good things.” You took another step towards the light and the Darkness hissed at you with scorn.

“Think of another tale to sing. Your telling of mine is foul.” The eyes receded back into the shadowed roots before glowing, then disappearing, as the creature closed his eyes. There was silence. You rushed into the sunlight and peered around the clearing as you tried to catch a glimpse of the green eyes burning in the shadows. You rushed back for your harp and bag before making sure to run into the trees and back towards the town.

 It got warmer as the week progressed, the leaves on the trees were beginning to unfurl properly and soak up the warming rays of the new sun. After a week you dared to enter the woods again, taking the same path you always did, jumping toadstools until you reached the base of the sprites’ tree.

“I brought you a biscuit.” You offered up into the branches, “They’re lavender and honey, you said you all liked that last time.”

The sprites chittered before taking the biscuit from your fingers and letting crumbs fall into your hair. You brushed at the crumbs and smiled.

“Have you felt anything weird lately?” You asked, “Anything untoward?”

The sprites paused in their eating to look at you confusedly, their little pointed faces confused, “We sense all manner of things. Black and white, light and dark. All are normal in our woods.” One sang before another grinned and tugged at your ear, “White as the unicorn, black as pitch. All is the same to the Fae.” She giggled and the rest sang a soft little rhyme about the fox and the hare.

“You’re all so useless sometimes.” You sighed.

The sprites paused in their dances, “We told you the answer. No lies we speak.” They sang again as they took the food and disappeared back into the moss and birdhouses.

You huffed at the branches, “Useless Fae and their riddles.” You kicked a pebble into the small stream as you slowly moved across the steppingstones.

 The water had made new pond weed and sludge grow over the steps and you yelped as your boot slipped and landed in the stream, filling with icy cold water.

“Oh, by the Gods!” You cursed as you hopped along the rest of the stones. When you reached the bank, you hopped a little further, into the dryer dirt before standing on a great pile of moss and upturning your boot. Water splatted onto the dirt and you huffed again as you hopped to the oak and tucked your boot against the trunk along with your other, hoping the warmer air would dry the inside of it.

As usual, you opened your bag and plucked your hand harp from inside the fold, unwrapping the cloth from it carefully before listening to its gentle noise. The soft plucking of the strings rose up into the canopy and you smiled at the noise you had always loved. Your grandmother was the finest harpist you had ever met, and you wished you had her level of skill as you plucked at the notes for the song she had first sung to you as a babe.

 “Darkness see the Light, on the break of day. Season turn cold to warm, with her never ending sway. Once the dawn doth break, the dreams are chased away. Darkness see the Light, on the break of day…” You hummed softly, plucking in a gentle cadence as the sunlight worked through the new green leaves, dappling across your face. Soaking in the glow, you let the song die on your lips as the birds sang high above, hidden in the mass of leaves from predators and prying eyes.

“Such a wonderous song.” A dark voice rang out from behind you. Once more, you startled and peered into the roots beneath the giant tree, “Sweet thing, have you come to sing for me again?” The Darkness purred from the depths, his green, burning eyes morphing into the burning orange flames of fire, “Or do you sing of me again to tarnish my name?” He teased as he raised a single claw before curling it back into the shadows, begging for you to come closer.

Fear curled along your spine, “I don’t sing for anyone. I sing for myself.” You promised as you turned on the moss to see the eyes burning into your skin, looking as though into your soul, “I would not sing of you if it were not the song’s lyrics. I have to play this for the town festival.” The confession ran like water and you covered your mouth with a gasp.

“Lies cannot be spoken to me.” The Darkness chortled, “Your songs are tales. Beautifully woven to enchant even the deafest of ears.” He complimented, “I would like to hear another, if you would be so kind?”

 “Why should I play for you?” You asked, spitefully, “You almost ruined the world.”

The Darkness laughed again, “Ruined? I merely changed the order. There is balance in the light and dark, and one day that balance will be mine to destroy. The shadows will have their time once again. It is the order of things.” He observed mildly as you held your hand harp closely, trying to avoid his intense gaze.

“Would you destroy everything to have it?” You asked, curiosity burning away at the anxiety in your gut.

The Darkness hummed, “Perhaps. But perhaps it would be best to turn the humans to my own side.” He grinned, as though a new nefarious plan was forming in his mind, white teeth glittering in the roots of the tree before he spoke again, “Play for me little harpist. One more song, I beg of you. The sound is like nothing I have below.”

“And what is it you have below, Darkness.” You asked as you opened your book.

His smile faded, “Screams and bellows. The sound of the foulest torture. There is some music in my power, but it is not that of…” His mouth moved before he spat the word, “Innocence…or purity. There is little joy in it.”

 “You do not lie…do you?” You whispered as the eyes burned.

“Why would I lie about such things?” He spat, “Sing for me, please. Play a song.” There was tiredness in his voice as his mouth disappeared into the blackness of the shadows and dirt.

“I can sing for you.” You nodded gently and sat before the shadowed roots, ignoring the burning orange gaze as you remembered the next line of the song.

“Behold the singing song bird, watch the bubbling stream. Before the dawn breaks, naught can be seen. Dreams of sorrows past, chased by the burning light. No more will they bother you, despite the aching blight. Darkness see the Light, on the break of day.”

The Darkness’ eyes lowered with the song, his gaze low and tired as his claws slid back into the roots, disappearing into the dark chasm of his own shadows.

Your voice came to an end, and you opened your eyes not to see the Lord of Darkness nor his gaze. There was silence as the leaves rustled over your head, flapping against one another as you sat, staring into the roots, wondering where the creature had disappeared to during your tale.

 A groggy noise of discontent sounded, “Why did you stop singing, song bird?” He asked, a single eye peering out from the shadows.

With a smile you chuckled, “I thought you had fallen asleep.”

The Darkness smiled, fangs exposed as he laughed, “I was close. Your music is gentle, like a Mother’s song to a babe.” He complimented, “You surely sing for the court?” He asked.

A blush graced your cheeks, “No, I sing for myself.” You reaffirmed, “One day I will maybe share my songs with the world…but not for now.”

The Darkness watched you for a moment, “I could make it happen.” He tempted softly, “There would be no one that didn’t know your name.”

“I won’t fall for your temptation.” You huffed, “I would rather sing and make the children happy than be forced to entertain the King and his finicky court.”

“Then perhaps a world without a King is what you truly desire?” He asked with another purr.

“Don’t twist my words against me. I want nothing from you.” You told him as you laid your harp back in your bag.

 The Darkness opened his other eye, “Nothing? After such a graceful performance…” He tutted to himself before he twisted a finger into the dirt and you watched your boots wiggle, as though there were invisible feet within them, “Consider this a small token.”

You watched as your boots marched their way over, under the influence of some sort of magic, before jumping and landing in your lap, cosy, lined with rich fur and utterly bone dry. They shined bright with wax polish and smelled as though they were new.

“I…” You stuttered, “I can’t accept these. They’re made for royalty.” You brushed the fur inside.

“Take them. It is payment for your music and for your craft. Wear them well, little bird.” He purred before you watched his eyes grow tired again, the orange turning green and disappearing into the roots randomly before he hummed and disappeared entirely, “I will see you again.”

“Yes…See you next time.” You whispered as the roots twisted and knotted back into place, the Oak hiding where the creature had once been beneath it, “Maybe I’ll have something new for you.” You pulled on the heavy boots and smiled at the warmth and the fit before rushing back over the stream.

 You jumped from the rocks and smiled as you looked back into the trees. The sprites bolted from their homes.

“Darkness clings and darkness takes hold.” They whispered in your ears, hidden along your coat collar, “Temptation is the beginning of sin.” They rushed before ripping through your hair, “Careful little one. Darkness tempts in other ways.”

“What do you mean?” You asked but they disappeared up into their homes, leaving glittering dust behind them. You looked up and listened to the silence of the birds before rushing to make your way home before the darkness decided to set in. The sprites cowered in their moss homes as the night rolled in that night, and the wolves howled beneath their trees.

 “Does the bird’s song ever wake you?” The Darkness asked from his shadowed hole, his eyes watching your fingers move over the harp, “You only come to sing as the Sun raises to its highest point.” He observed, “Does someone else occupy your time?” He asked with a hiss.

“No.” You plucked a string particularly forcefully, “I’m busy in the mornings.” You confessed, “I have to cook and clean for myself now.” You felt tears well in your eyes.

“What troubles you?” The Darkness asked, the tips of his claws peaking from the roots.

“My Mother passed.” You confessed, “She was all I had left.” You whispered and the Darkness reached out before recoiling from the sunlight with a howl, forgetting himself as his eyes flared with anger.

“Does her passing not anger you. Such sorrow is ill-fitting. I have heard your song in the night.” There was a flicker of something in the shadows, “Can I not offer you some solace, bird?”

“I want nothing of your tricks, Darkness.” You spat, “I want to remember her in her chair, not as a walking corpse.”

The Darkness recoiled at your spite, “I offer no such thing…Only my company. If you would have it?”

You did not keep your shock to yourself, “Truly? You won’t trick me and drag me away into your hellhole?”

He laughed, “No, sweet thing. Where would the fun in that be?” The creature teased before tugging at your bag, “Sing your sorrows. Soon, your heart will not feel the pain anymore.”

You took hold of your bag and took out your hand harp, tightening one string with a watery smile before you sung late into the afternoon, beginning the process of healing your own heart.

 “Will you stay a little longer?” The Darkness asked as the sun reached to dip below the horizon. You’d been visiting for so long that you couldn’t remember the time before you did. Your days creating were much more fun with someone to critique your lyrics.

“It will be night-time soon.” You muttered over the rain which pattered against the Oak’s leaves. You were protected underneath it’s canopy, huddled in your fur, your boots tucked against you as you looked out at the rain. The stream bubbled with fresh new water, rushing harshly against the rocks.

“Night is just the day without light. What troubles you so that you cannot walk in it? There is nothing to harm you in these woods.” He offered, eyes flickering with green jealousy.

“There are wolves and mean sprites at night. Even forgetting that, I can’t find my way back without being able to see where I’m putting my feet.” You joked as the Darkness’ fingers tested the space outside of the roots, his claws curling into his own palm.

“Wolves are not after prey such as you.” The Darkness rebuked, “If I were here, no evil is greater than I. We would be alone, to enjoy the silence.”

You noted the whimsical tone of his statement, “Alone?” You asked gently, “Alone to do what? I have no songs about the night.”

He did not miss the joke, “All I would ask is that you sit, and talk with me.”

 The rain hissed as it poured against the trees and greenery. You were both quiet for a moment as you digested his request.

“Perhaps not tonight.” You replied, “I…”

“I do not need an explanation.” The Darkness’ tone was harsh, “I understand that your kindness does not go that far.”

“This is not a kindness. I do not pity you.” Taking a handful of leaves, you began to peel them from their stems.

“If not pity, then why do you still come?” He asked with a snarl, his pointed teeth clenched.

Peeling another leaf apart, you wondered why you still entertained his request, “I suppose that I have come to enjoy your retched company.”

“You flatter me, harpist.” The anger seemed to dissolve from him, “Then why not come, entertain me in flesh, tonight?”

 “Not tonight.” You smiled as you stood up, gathering your harp and shaking the sticks from your coat, “I heard there will be a storm soon.”

The Darkness moaned softly in the shadows, “Yes. Such a wonderous event. The fear, the agony and the unrest to the land. A time for my shadows to spread further.” He purred inside the roots before his burning gaze rested on you, “Meet me then, in the thunderstorm, I beg of you, my sweet.” His claws peered from the shadow before receding.

The taste of blood covered your tongue from biting your cheek, “When?”

“The day after next.” He whispered as you dipped your hand into the roots. The cold touch of the shadows made you shudder before there was a press of something to the back of your hand, “Wear something to dance.” The Darkness hummed before his lids grew tired and he disappeared into the roots. You jumped and took your hand back as the oak tree groaned and moved back its old roots, hiding the opening once more.  

 Thunder crashed for most of the next day before the real storm swirled over the land, black clouds twisting in on one another, rolling and spewing torrents of hammering rain. Wind blew down the mountainside for most of the morning. Carefully you chose and outfit in the afternoon, shuddering as the rain bounced off your windows, twirling in the fine silks and singing with the harp clutched in your hand about angering the mother of the skies. You watched the sun set as you ate, spooning your food into your mouth as fast as you could manage before you stole away into your room to grab at the large coat. The rain lightening as you stepped outside, your harp protected in your bag from the torrents. With a smile, you bounced into the woodlands from the cottage’s backdoor, mouth open wide as you sung once more.

“Rain and wind, thunder and howl, across ye plains. Birth of life, green and root, into the soil ‘gain. As the sun sleeps, douse the land, with water o’plenty. Watch and wait for Mother to sing, about when the larder was empty.” You sang as you rushed into the woods, listening in fear for the wolves as the rain slowed to a drizzle. Your hood flew from your head as you rushed beneath and over the homes of many animals, hunkered down away from the foul weather.

 Suddenly, you were laughing, twirling into the stream as the rain soaked your hair and the water filled your pumps. A great thunderous crash made you face the sky, looking into the clouds as blue electricity singed across their surface. Another crash was accompanied with a flash of light and you grinned at the power of it before jumping from the stream and throwing your coat off, the silks attached to your shoulders flaring as you plucked your harp from your bag and played over the rain and thunder, spinning in the moss beneath the Old Oak.

“Sweet harpist.” The Darkness purred and you opened your eyes as black silk and cloth rippled in front of the tree, the roots closing with a groan of upset behind his giant figure. The clothing covering him draped over his giant, ebony horns, falling in waves that rippled with the wind. You peered into the hood and saw his orange eyes. His eyes watched you, panting, sodden with the rain falling from the sky. His clawed hand reached from within the cloth covering and you span from his reach with a gentle pluck of your harp.

“You tease me.” He offered before another thunderous crash sounded, along with his laughter. The cape hood and cape around him billowed again in the wind, the encrusted jewels clinking, and you looked to see as the silk around his arms in two cuffs ripple gently. His form was interchangeable, and you watched him float before two cloven hooves thudded to the ground from beneath the bottom seam of the cloth.

 “Are you going to dance with me, my lord?” You asked as you span to play your harp away in your bag, thrown beneath the tree.

The Darkness nodded from within the hood and offered his red, clawed hands once more, “Let us celebrate this night.” He rumbled; his voice distorted as the thunder rumbled again overhead.

In his palms, your hands were dwarfed by his own, and you held onto them tightly as the Darkness drew you in closer to him, his silks blending with your own before he led you around in a small circle, one arm outstretched and the other placed at your hip. The cadence of the rain grew louder and louder as you both twirled past the oak tree and through the woodlands, trampling flowers and brambles as you span around in each other’s embrace. Rain soaked you as you laughed and ducked beneath his arms, and the Darkness howled with laughter as the thunder crashed and boomed overhead. A lightning flash revealed his red face, sharp, angular, and long with a mouth of white teeth, his incisors long and sharp. He leaned over and you reached to catch his face, pausing your dance in a great meadow which was soiled and boggy with water. Gently, you took hold of his cheeks, running your wet thumbs over his boiling skin. His hooves sunk in the mud as he leaned closer to you, staring into your eyes as the rain dripped from his great horns.

 “I suppose you think me a monster?” He asked as the thunder rolled above you both, drowning his bitter laughter from your ears.

“You’re the Darkness. You are not man nor monster.” You whispered close to his lips, “You are balance and sin.” It seemed like your tongue was loosened, “The sprites warned me…about temptation but you have given me nothing but comfort. There has been no agony, only laughter.” You reached to his pointed ears and closed your eyes as the rain rushed over you both.

The Darkness raised his great cloak and shielded you both from the downpour as his lips pressed against your own. It was gentle at first, hot and intimate, before his teeth nipped at your lower lip and his pointed tongue pressed into your mouth, hot against the coldness of your own mouth from standing in the rain. The Darkness wrapped you tighter beneath his cloth, the silk brushing your damp skin as one large hand cupped your face, his thumb tipping your head higher, and his other skated down your chest before cupping the small of your back.

 The kiss was long and passionate, filled with the decadence of the night, some things that the light simply could not offer to you. He pulled himself away from your lips, leaving you gasping for air as you recovered, wrapped in his great cloak.

“I feel…many things, when I am with you, little one.” The Darkness confessed into the folds of his cloak, his eyes looking into your own, meeting them with a confidence you had never seen before in an courter, “I would make you my ruler.” He confessed as he pressed your hand to his hot chest, underneath the cloth.

You looked up at him as rain dripped from his horns and over your own face, dripping down the bridge of your nose in speedy tracks, “I don’t want to be a master.”

“Then play for me, for all time. Play music and inspire my name into those once more.” He begged softly, clutching your hands before he hissed, the thunder crashing overhead once more.

“Can we be together?” You asked in a whisper, fear making your fingers tremble.

“For eternity.” He promised, “Beyond and after the ends of time. Sing songs of Darkness and Love for me.”

“Eternity…”

 There was another rumble, and you took his hands again, before the lightning struck a tree in the distance sending fire and wood exploding into the sky. His hood disappeared with a gale of wind before the cloth and silk wrapped around you once more and the Darkness hefted you into his arms, bleeding black with shadows and darkness as the storm and its plight fed him power. You leaned back in awe of the sky, rain burning your eyes as the clouds rolled above you. A great growl sounded from your lover’s chest before he laid you back against a great stone tablet, made for the harvest ceremonies of the fae. Your back met the stone gently before the silks slapped and stuck to the rock and you moved backwards as a furred leg rested against the edge. Red and black merged on his skin as he took hold of the silk and pulled you to the lip of the table, his eyes hungry for a taste of you.

 “Can we do this here?” You asked, breath escaping you as his huge form covered you, the black material shielding you from the rain as he stole another deep kiss.

“Yes. Anywhere. Whenever. I adore you.” He heaved as he pulled away, his words heavy in the air as he leaned back to tear as your clothing, exposing perfection to his gaze, “You are temptation.” He uttered with another heavy groan as lightning struck the earth again, “Glorious Sin.” He moaned as his tongue laved at your neck, tasting the flesh, “Surely this is what innocence tastes of. Purity and…” The Darkness broke off into another guttural moan as he kissed down your chest, pressing his tongue to your nipples, enjoying them as they hardened into sharp peaks. His hot breath pebbled your cold skin and he moved over your stomach, squeezing, and enjoying himself as he reached the dip of your hips. His tongue dipped to wrap around you, and you writhed against the table as rain crashed against the hillside.

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

Zavis was clicking his tongue as he walked through the trees.

“Tk, tk, tk, BCC?? Little chugger buddy?? Tk, tk, tk, tk, tk.” He weaved through the trees, sunlight casting tinted green light on his head through the canopy. He was half limping on his left leg, as the nearly-breaking-his-neck-on-a-staircase-and-experiencing-whiplash-as-two-members-of-his-family-threatened-his-well-being event had made his muscles sore. 

With no giant horse in sight, he changed tactics. Zavis took out a banana and started to unpeel it, offering it up to the wilds.

“Pspspsp! Big Chungeroni?? I got your favourite snack! Pspspsp...”

His feet crumpled loose leaves and twigs and he maneuvered through the woods. Finally he came upon a clearing, bathed in open golden sunlight.

Or at least it would have been, were it not for the giant horse blocking out the sun.

Big Chugging Chungus was rearing on his hind legs, snorting and clopping its hooves at a pair of red Bokoblins, who were squealing with fear as they ran off in the direction of the village. Zavis immediately ran up in front of the horse and held out his hands.

“Heyheyhey! Shshsh, it’s me, BCC! It’s your pal, Zavis! Shhh...Shhhh...” He held out the banana and continued shushing the horse like he had always seen his Master Kohga do. Although he wasn’t exactly sure why it was practical. To his knowledge, Big Chugging Chungus had never spoken. Perhaps it was a Yiga Chief thing.

The horse shook its mane, and leaned down to munch the banana out of his hand. Zavis stroked his snout.

“Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy!”

The horse’s tail swooped left and right.

“Yes, yes you are! You did such a good job! Helping to cause terror and feed chaos onto Kakariko!! Who’s a good troublemaker??”

Again, he wasn’t entirely sure the point of asking questions when he was fairly certain that the horse could not answer for himself. Nonetheless, he continued imitating what he usually saw his dads do.

“That’s right, you’re a good troublemaker!” Zavis then scratched the back of his head. “You’re such a good troublemaker that now we’re just going to help undone all of the work you did for me cause there’s a change in plans, haha...”

He didn’t know how, but he could sense the horse was looking at him with exasperation and disappointment.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Zavis tossed the banana peel back as he threw his arms up. “I got a job to do! OK?”

The horse stayed silent, only flopping one ear around as a bug flew by. Zavis wasn’t really fond of the one-sided conversation.

“What job you ask? Well my job to help the princess, that’s what.” He put his hands on his hips. “That’s right! Helping her find the best way to save the kingdom has been my sole drive since the beginning.”

The horse, once more, replied with the quiet munching of a banana.

“‘Are there any other reasons?” you ask? Well...no! There isn’t!” He crossed his arms and turned away from the horse like he was mad at him. “Did I ruin my family’s hard redeemed reputation by revealing myself as a Yiga? Maaaybe. Did I possibly instigate Mr. Hartell’s complete moral collapse by revealing that the origin of our relationship was based on more selfish desires? Maaaaybe. Did I join the Yiga Clan in an attempt to get closer to my dad, only to discover that his loyalty to the Yiga is like, super-duper strong and possibly stronger than his bond to me, which means that I also have to deceive him in the same ways that I’ve lied and taken advantage of all my other weird parental relationships in my life that have been recently ending in disaster?” Zavis waved his hand in a circle. “...Maybe.”

He suddenly pointed a finger at the horse. “BUT! Do I have any regrets about it as I pursue the path to victory? Do I need tp apologize for the hypothetical damage I may or may not have done to the other people in my life even though it would be entirely useless in achieving the greater end result?” He looked at the horse expectantly, as if begging him for the answer.

Big Chugging Chungus did not.

“...NO COMMENT!” Zavis whirled around once more. “DOESN’T MATTER. I DON’T HAVE TO ANSWER YOU. STOP ASKING STUPID QUESTIONS.”

Zavis started marching off back towards the village, expecting the horse to follow.

He did not.

The boy turned his head back and sighed. “Ugh are you STILL mad at me? Look, you did a good job, the chaos is gonna make the Champions look good. But now we’re just helping out cousin Impa by reversing it just a little bit. You did such a good job, that now we’re undoing the impact of your job! So it’s all good, let’s go!” He pointed forward and took a step, but still the horse was unmoving.

BCC snorted at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?!” He stomped his foot. “BCC? Come.”

The horse spit at the ground.

Zavis gasped so loud and dramatically it could have been mistaken for Kohga himself. “How DARE you! Don’t you know what’s at stake here?? The whole village! The whole world!! And before you try and tell me about being a traitor, this helps the Yiga Clan, too, you know!”

The horse leaned down to chew some grass.

“It does!” Zavis yelled again. “Everyone in the clan is too stupid to realize that the Calamity is probably just gonna stab us in the back down the line. So us helping the princess saves lives,” he stated, matter-a-fact-ly.

The horse considered chewing the grass.

“Don’t ignore me!” Zavis ran up behind the horse and tried pushing him to get him to move. His head barely was taller than the giant horse’s leg. His name didn’t begin with “big” for no reason...

“Is this about losing you at the castle? I left you under a secluded bridge! I thought for sure no one would steal you, cause who goes out wandering for large horses under bridges in the middle of the night.” He tapped his foot impatiently as he gave up on pushing the giant beast. “A-And besides. It’s YOUR fault for letting some rando ride you. So I can’t be blamed here.”

The horse suddenly stopped eating, and perked their head up. He turned and looked Zavis directly in the eye. His gaze was calm and collected, but the sheer power of the horse’s deep dark eyes bore into him, like he was being boiled from the inside out.

Zavis was left sputtering as he walked away from Big Chugging Chungus. “Stop doing that! Stop being so weird! If you don’t like my methods, that’s a you problem.” He let out a “hmph” as he plopped himself on the ground, criss-cross-applesauce.

He pointed at the horse. “I’M not a manipulator who can’t accept the fact that he’s taken advantage of everyone around him, YOU’RE a manipulator who can’t accept the fact that he’s taken advantage of everyone around him!”

After Zavis’ scolding insult towards the horse in question, he scooted his butt back and leaned against a tree. He angrily took off his cracked glasses and shook them in the direction of BCC. “Look at these circular glasses! Would a person in denial be this cute?!” He shoved them back on and continued to pout. The horse did nothing.

Zavis tried again. “BCC? Come.”

BCC flopped onto the ground where is stood.

Zavis palmed a hand to his forehead. “UGHH......” He took off his glasses once more, and wiped the non-existent dirt from his eyes that was causing them to water. “You’re useless! Y-You’ve got no right to treat me like this!”

He used his sleeve to clean up the fog on his glasses. “I’ve been trying to help everyone since the day I was f-fucking born! I’ve been on this journey since I was twelve. TWELVE! So if you wanted to stop me from doing all this other shit, maybe someone should have given a damn and stopped me then!” He was now rubbing his glasses with such frustration, he nearly popped the lens out. He tossed it into the dirt.

“You’ve got no right to judge me! I didn’t have to do this! This isn’t my problem!” He gestured around him, towards the forest, the earth, the mountains, and the sky. “Did I cause the Calamity? Did I fail my job as a king, or leader, or parent? NO! So take up your complaints with them. I inherited their mess and now I want to clean it up, that’s the opposite of selfish!”

The horse’s ear’s stood attentively in the air, and BCC’s gaze once again bore into Zavis. He clenched his jaw in anger.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I-I haven’t done anything wrong...I’m...” He scoffed to himself. “Maybe some other people should have done their jobs better! If you wanted a perfect fucking job done from a fucking kid, then maybe some experience adult should have done it! But no, I’m taking the helm cause everyone else is fucking self-absorbed and too fucking busy to pay attention!

“Now that I’m fucking doing the jobs that they should have done, all of the sudden NOW you’re gonna pay attention to my every action, huh!? Bunch of hypocrites!” He stood up and stomped over. “I thought I was just a kid! I thought I was allowed to make mistakes! Why did no one fucking tell me that the entire well being of the kingdom now hinges on my every fucking choice!” His eyes were tearing up now, be he stared at the horse’s abyssal gaze with fury.

“All I wanted was for someone to look at me and make things ok! Didn’t I have to fix everything so someone could notice me? Or are you saying that I was too impatient and should have waited a little longer?! Was he right?? Was I too ungrateful?? Was I too stuck-up to appreciate everything I was given? Should I have been satisfied with my loneliness? Should I have been satisfied having no one around me to hurt!?”

The dark horse stared at him, unblinking. His red mane moved up and down in the pleasant breeze like soft fire.

“...It’s not my fault.” Zavis whispered. He returned to his tree, and sat in the dirt, picking up his glasses. “It’s not my fault,” he said again.

The two creatures stared at each other for a minute longer. In the distance, someone screamed, but it harmonized with the whistle of the wind.

Zavis sighed. He suddenly opened his palm, and a sudden poof of smoke and talismans appeared, along with his old lute.

He tried once more. “BCC? Come.”

The horse stared at him, expectantly.

Zavis huffed to himself, then started playing a verse, arranging his fingers on some random chords.

Storms are ever winding Storms are ever binding to the ground

The clouds above, her modesty The earth bears her atrocities, profound All her beauty’s on the ground

They say that air is freedom Stone lets the tempest lead ‘em homeward bound

Servant to her royal pleas Bowed down toward the heir’s new breeze and sound Commands her beauty to the ground

I hate it now.

The sky hails down remembrance The sky then fades away Yet here I am, the trodden soil I bear her newest day But she’s away

All of her rain, then she’s away. I never thirst, but she gave, anyway

Zavis withheld himself from playing another chord. He observed the horse once more, to see that he hand been attentively listening the whole time.

The horse looked at Zavis Asu.

“...I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry.” He tiled his head towards him. “I’m sorry I forced you to do a bunch of work for me only to kinda make it seem useless. I’m sorry I left you under a bridge. I’m sorry for...”

The mountains greeted his gaze.

“...a lot of things.”

Zavis lifted his lute, and it disappeared in a puff of smoke and talismans once more. He cocked his head again. “Can you help me now? Do you accept my apology?”

The horse drooled into the grass.

Zavis sighed with acceptance. “Fine, I guess you don’t have to. But at the very least can you move somewhere else so that you don’t scare monsters towards the village anymore?”

BCC immediately sprung up and moved toward Zavis, resting his chin on his head for a moment. His hair was now slightly slobbered with horse drool. Gross. Finally, the horse move back and started trotting down the northern path towards the Lanayru Promenade.

Zavis wiped his hair, and fluffed it back up. He stood, and noticed some more bokoblins moving down towards the village. He mentally went over Impa’s suggestions-that-involved-murder-if-not-followed-to-the-T, again.

“Ok then.” Zavis clenched and unclenched his fist. “Time to solve this mess definitely I didn’t make.”

[labyrinth-runner]

“Are you scared? Don’t be. ‘ll protect you from today onwards.” For Obi x Reader please?

Title: King of Hearts

Summary: When you’re sent to a neighboring kingdom to marry the king, things do not go as planned. Warnings: None. Word Count: 5400

Tag List: @blackirisposts, @star-whores-a-new-hoe, @nerd-without-a-cause, @all-hallows-evie, @darthserling

As always, thanks to @the-mandalorian-clone-lover for being a low-key Beta.

You could hear the sound of the wheels running over the forest floor. It had been hours since your carriage had set off on its journey towards the kingdom that was to be your new home. Your legs ached from being in the same position for so long, but there was nothing you could do. Stopping now was out of the question, as you had driven into enemy territory an hour ago. Your guards had even advised against looking out the window. After all, the Princess of the neighboring kingdom would be a prime target for the warlord ravaging your kingdom. That was why it was imperative that you got to your new kingdom in one piece. Your marriage to the King would unite your two kingdoms and act as an alliance that would hopefully end the war. 

Resting your head against the wall, you absentmindedly played with your pendant as you tried to picture the man you were to marry. You’d met him once, a long time ago. The two of you had both been young when his father, Qui-Gon, had come to your kingdom for a summit. You couldn’t have been more than ten at the time. You remembered meeting an awkward teenager who would talk you out of all the mischief you had planned. He was so serious, with those crystalline blue eyes that looked like they were wise beyond their years. Most of all, you remember he was kind, having an affinity for animals that led him to spend most of his visit in the menagerie.

Now, you wondered what he was like, having been King for a few years since the death of his father at the hands of a warlord. Would he still be kind? Or would years of a harsh life have turned his heart cold? A sigh breezed through your lips as you tried to stretch in the small space. 

Thwip.

Thud.

Screaming.

You froze, hearing the unmistakable sound of an arrow being loosed into the air, and the carnage that it no doubt had caused. The horses were startled and strayed from the path, causing the carriage to run over a boulder. It started to list to the side until it was tumbling. You braced for impact as the carriage landed on its side. Peeking out of the window, you noticed you were at the bottom of a ravine. 

“I’m a sitting duck,” you realized in horror as you struggled to get the door open, let alone crawl out of the carriage. Part of you wanted to stay put, to play dead, but you knew better than to trust your attackers with your body. If they were thorough, they would finish the job. With that knowledge to steel your nerves, you used all the strength in your arms to pull yourself up through the doorway.

Once on the other side, you closed the door so that it would take them a while to notice anything was amiss. Swiftly, you moved across the clearing towards the tree line. You could hear running water nearby. If you passed through it, then they would loose your trail. Your feet propelled you further and further, vowing to yourself with each step that you would not die here, that the hope of your people’s salvation would not die here, alone, in the forest. 

The water was cold on your calves as you plunged into a running river. It was deeper than you expected, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Wading through the waist-deep water, you trudged to the opposite bank and pulled yourself up.

The foliage on that side of the river was dense enough to conceal you from your attackers. Your heart thudded in your chest as you listened to the sounds of footfalls. Through a gap in the trees, you watched as men in dark cloaks came into view, searching for you. When they passed by without incident, you released a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

On the horizon, the sun was starting to set. You knew you couldn’t stay in the woods forever, but you couldn’t travel as you were either. Your clothes were much too rich for the area. No, you’d have to go back to the carriage and hope to salvage some of the clothes that your maid had packed.

Mary, you thought sadly. She had been riding on the front of the carriage when you were attacked. There was no way she would have survived. A pang of guilt washed over you, but you had to shove it aside. Your feelings, as valid as they were, would not enable you to survive if you dwelled in sadness. 

Somehow, the water seemed colder the second time around. It felt like tiny knives stabbing into your skin as you made your way back, retracing your steps as best you could in the falling darkness. 

Eventually, the carriage came into view, it’s dark form rising out of the shadows. Your luggage was strewn across the ground, with some crates leaking fabrics. Surprisingly, your treasure was untouched. 

“So it was never about the money,” you sighed, “It was always about me.”

With a shake of your head, you started to root around for a plain outfit that would be warm enough in the cool night air. You found a blue servants gown and a brown wool cloak that would suit you nicely. Quickly, you changed into it.

Laying on the ground a few feet away was a crumpled body of one of your soldiers. With some care, you removed his dagger and attached it to your own body. You hoped you would never have to use it, but you would rather have and not need, than need and not have.

Lastly, you took your pendant in your hand, a wedding gift from your fiancé. On it was his crest along with your family’s motto on the back. Ad astra per aspera. You tucked it under the neckline of your dress before looking up at the stars. Giving the guiding lights a resolute nod, you started to walk.

You walked for what felt like miles with no end in sight until dawn started to break over the horizon. Streaks of light cut through the canopy overhead washing everything in a warm amber glow. The trees started to thin out and a small town could be seen past the fields and farms on the outskirts near the forest. To your dismay, you could see that the town was crawling with enemy troops. You pulled your cloak further down your forehead to hopefully obscure your face. As much as you just wanted to walk past the town, your stomach was growling and would not be ignored. 

Trudging into the tavern, you slipped into a seat in the corner hoping to avoid detection.

The gods were not smiling upon you.

As soon as you sat, a group of soldiers sauntered over towards you.

“Well, sweetheart, aren’t you a new face?” one of them purred as the barkeep placed a bowl of soup in front of you.

You pointedly ignored them, hoping they would take the hint and leave.

Instead, another soldier sat across from you. “Are you traveling alone? You know that’s dangerous with a war on. Wouldn’t want someone as pretty as you to get caught in the cross fires.”

“You know, when a lass ignores you, that’s usually a sign that you should stop talking,” a man said from behind them.

“Yeah? And what are you going to do about it?” The soldier taunted back.

“This,” the man simply stated before punching him in the face.

A brawl soon broke out in front of you. With a sigh of annoyance, you picked up your bowl of soup and side-stepped the kerfuffle to finish eating your soup at the bar. 

The men continued to brawl until the owner kicked them out. Then, the owner turned towards you, “And you, too.”

“But I-” you started to protest.

“Out! You’re bad for business,” he said sternly.

You sighed. At least you’d finished eating. It was time to move on from here, anyway. Pulling your hood back over your head, you made your way out of the tavern and into the street, seeing the man and a younger boy nursing their wounds as the soldiers stalked off down the road.

“Are you alright, lass?” the man called out. He looked like a farmer, based off his clothing. The boy with him must be his farmhand, you surmised.

“Yes, but you didn’t have to do that. I was capable of handling it myself.”

“Were you just going to sit in silence and suffer their presence?” he asked, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. He had a scruffy beard, but the most amazing eyes. 

Your face felt hot as you looked away, “I suppose I should thank you, then. For saving me the trouble of their company.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a kind smile. “Where are you headed, lass?”

“Stewjon,” you said before pausing. Thinking on your feet, you came up with a reasonable lie. After all, you weren’t sure how they would treat the princess of a neighboring kingdom, even if they had just defended your right to eat in silence. “I’m an ambassador from a neighboring kingdom looking to bend the king’s ear.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. You technically were a representative of your kingdom, and you were hoping the King would listen and help his new wife’s homeland. You absentmindedly played with your necklace while you waited to see if he’d accept your lie.

The farmer nodded, “We’ll take you there.” He cast a suspicious look at the pendant in your hand, squinting at it slightly. 

Quickly, you tucked it back into your neckline.

They started to walk and you followed them in silence, sizing them up. The two men seemed to have an unspoken language between them, knowing how the other would tackle the stumbling blocks in the road or which path to take to get to the right place. Their’s was an easy companionship from what you could see. Every once in a while they’d crack jokes when they tripped or slipped.

“No wonder you aren’t a knight, if a tree limb can trip you up,” the farmer teased.

“Better me than you,” the younger man quipped. “I don’t know if your old bones could handle a tumble.”

The man thwacked him up the side of his head.

“Ow!” the boy complained.

“Respect your elders,” the man simply stated, sending you a wink.

A chuckle breezed through your lips at their banter.

“See? Even the lady thinks you’re a fool,” the farmer smirked.

“Or maybe she just happens to find my antics amusing,” the boy straightened. “After all, she does have Anakin Skywalker at her service.” He affected a low bow, waggling his eyebrows at you as he looked up.

You giggled, “Lovely to make your acquaintance, Mr. Skywalker. And you, Sir?” you turned towards the farmer. “I should like to know the name of my savior.”

“Oh, should you now?” he asked, his smile slipping slightly. “It’s Ben.”

You nodded, “Ben and Ani.”

Ben looked up at the sky and cursed, “We’ll have to make camp.”

“But it’s midday,” you replied.

He pointed towards the horizon, “Those clouds spell a storm. We’ll want to find a nice, dry cave to stop in until it passes.”

“There’s a mountain ridge up ahead,” Anakin added. “There should be a cave there.”

“The river’s a bit to the south. If the lass wouldn’t mind getting some water?” Ben asked, handing you a canteen.

You nodded, taking it from him going off towards the direction he indicated. You could hear Ben ordering Anakin about as you left.

The stream wasn’t too hard to find, and it was significantly less cold than the one you had found yourself in the day before. As you dipped the canteen in the river to gather water,  you caught sight of your reflection. There were trees in your once-neat hair, dirt was caked on your limbs, and bits of blood were dried here and there from where you had been nicked by brambles and branches.

Casting a look from side to side, you realized you were alone. You may not get another moment like this, and you certainly did not want to show up to the palace in such a state. In moments, you had undressed and waded into the running water. Taking a handkerchief from your clothes, you used it to scrub yourself clean, marveling in the fresh feeling of once again being spotless. You leaned back, floating for a moment as you let yourself relax.

“Lass, we found a cave,” Ben called out as he came trudging through the bushes. Then, he caught sight of the clothes on the riverbank and his eyes briefly flicked to your floating body before he averted his gaze.

You straightened immediately. “I’m sorry. I-”

“Please, don’t apologize. I should have been more discreet. I averted my gaze as quickly as I could,” he replied, keeping his back towards you as you got out of the river and dressed.

“How far is the cave?”

“Not very far,” he replied.

Gently, you took his hand to hide the look of embarrassment. His hand was warm around yours, comforting. “Lead the way.”

Soon you found yourself standing at the mouth of a cave. Inside, Anakin had started a small fire and spread out their cloaks to cover the ground to make it softer.

The three of you sat as the start of the storm could be heard outside.

“I guess you were right,” you murmured.

“He’s always right,” Anakin said pointedly.

Ben rolled his eyes, “I just had to learn this from my father at a young age.”

“Because of working in the fields?” you asked.

He blinked, “Y-yes.”

You stared out the mouth of the cave at the steadily growing storm. “Can you tell me a bit about the king?”

“Haven’t you met him before?” Ben asked.

“A long time ago,” you said wistfully. “It’s been a while. People can change. Life changes them.”

“He’s a hard ass,” Anakin smirked. That earned him another thwack from Ben. “Alright, I lied. He’s kind. He’s a real people’s man.” The younger man laid down on his cloak and turned away from you. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a nap.”

That just left you and Ben.

At first, the silence was deafening, but then the ice broke and conversation became easy.

The two of you talked for hours about anything and everything under the sun, from childhood experiences to the things you did for fun. There was so much that you two had in common, and talking to him was so easy. You’d never felt more at ease. As you talked, you noticed little things about him. The crinkle near the corner of his eyes from smiling was your first observation. Then, it was how beautiful the color of his eyes were. In the back of your mind, you wondered how soft his beard was. Still, all the while you kept swapping stories and learning more and more about this handsome man who had rescued you. When you woke up on his shoulder later on, you didn’t even remember falling asleep.

“Morning, sunshine,” he murmured. 

The rain had stopped, leaving a clean smell hanging in the air. Anakin was snoring softly across the cave. The fire casted Ben in a warm amber glow that you found entrancing. Gently, you reached up to smooth a piece of hair out of his face. His eyes softened as he looked down at you. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing as his cheek pressed into your palm. Your thumb caressed the edge of his beard as you found your eyes settling on his lips. In the back of your mind, a voice said you probably shouldn’t be doing this, but you found yourself leaning in anyway. Your lips connected with his, pressing firmly against him. He kissed back almost immediately, slipping his hand to your neck as his fingers snaked into your hair. The cave was suddenly warmer than you could handle and you pulled back, eyes wide at what you’d done.

Anakin stretched behind you, waking up. “Well, I suppose we should start walking again?”

Ben answered, not taking his eyes off you. “Yes, we should. Then we’ll at least reach the city limits by daybreak tomorrow.”

“We’re going to walk through the night?” you asked in dismay.

“It’s best that we make haste,” Ben replied, getting up and pulling his cloak back on.

“R-right,” Anakin seconded, his brow furrowed as he glanced between the two of you.

“If we make it to the city limits by dawn, then we’ll be able to rent a horse for the last leg of the journey,” Ben added, as a consolation. 

You nodded, getting yourself together to follow them out into the late afternoon sun.

The walk was harder now, with the ground slick with wet grass and mud. It was slower going, and somehow you managed to hold onto Ben’s hand the entire time. He kept you from falling, and pulled you out of the mud when you got stuck. He barely looked at you as you went until you needed help. Then, there was concern in his eyes as he steadied you, an extra hand on your arm to make sure that you were in fact alright. 

It confused you. You were to be married to a man you hadn’t known in a long time, and yet here you were falling for a farmer who couldn’t even look at you for longer that ten seconds since you’d kissed. Still, you knew that nothing you’d have with the King would ever be as easy as with this farmer, but there was nothing you could do. Your kingdom needed this alliance. However, that didn’t mean you couldn’t stumble or slip a bit more so that you could spend more time with the farmer. All you were doing was prolonging the inevitable, you knew that. Yet, you wanted to do it. You were enjoying this sense of freedom before being bogged down with the needs of a kingdom again.

As night drew nearer, you held his hand tighter, not wanting to get separated in the dark. Ben gave your hand reassuring squeezes intermittently. Once, although you could not see it, you felt him bring your hand to his lips and kiss it when you’d stopped at a fork in the road.

Somehow, they knew the way in the dark. It was almost as if they’d spent years traveling these roads, which you thought was odd for a farmer. Then again, he probably traveled to sell his wares. As it got darker, it grew colder. That was when you felt a cloak being dropped on your shoulders. You nestled into it, squeezing his hand in response. 

Your feet were so tired you felt like they would fall off of your body and abandon you. At that point, you realized that you had been walked the majority of the way to the palace, a trip that took about six hours by carriage, but a day and a half on foot. You wanted to stop. You wanted to rest. But, you knew that if you were tired, then so were they. Yet, they kept going to get you to your destination. They didn’t give up, and neither would you.

Finally, dawn started to break. You’d broken out onto wide open road a while ago, but now in the early morning rays, you could see the city sprawling before you and the ocean beyond it. You nestled further into your layers as the sea breeze ruffled the fabric. 

“Is that...?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said with a fond smile on his face as he looked at it. “That’s Stewjon.”

“It’s massive,” you breathed. 

“Which is why I said we’d get horses to take you to the palace,” he winked. “Besides, the best way to tour the city for the first time is on horse.”

“You’re going to give me a tour?” you asked, unable to keep the giddiness from your voice. Perhaps you didn’t have to say goodbye so soon, after all.

“If that is alright with you,” he grinned.

“You two go on ahead,” Anakin yawned. “I’m going to go home.”

Ben shot him a glare.

Your brow furrowed. Home? But they were farmers. There were no farms around the city.

“I mean... I’m going to find some lodgings,” Anakin chuckled nervously. “You know, my brain is so tired I should get some sleep so I can start making sense again.”

You raised a brow as the boy awkwardly backed away.

Ben gently took your hand and tugged you towards the stables. “Wait here.”

Bouncing on the balls of your feet, you waited for him to return with a horse. He helped you up into the saddle before climbing on behind you. His body was warm against your back and you found yourself leaning into him, resting your back against his chest.

He set the horse into a slow pace, pointing out various businesses and places all over the town. People waved to him as he passed and he waved back.

“You’re quite popular,” you teased.

“Nonsense,” he murmured, “They’re just friendly here.”

“I hope I’m well received,” you sighed.

“I’m sure you will be, lass,” he whispered in your ear.

His voice sent a shiver down your spine in a way you’d never felt before. As you closed your eyes, you pictured what it would be like to have him whisper sweet nothings to you in the dark of your bedroom. His hands were warm around yours as he held onto the reins. They were large and calloused. You couldn’t help but imagine what they would feel like against your skin, fingers splayed as they trailed up your sides.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, severing your connection to your daydream. You couldn’t be thinking like this. Not now. 

“Take me to the palace, please,” you said with a sad smile.

“Of course,” Ben replied, but you thought there was a slight twinge of disappointment in his voice.

The rest of the ride was silent. He put you down in front of the palace steps. Each step up them put more and more distance between the two of you in more ways than just physically. With every step, you tried to wall up your heart to protect you. You didn’t dare to say goodbye for fear of not being able to let go. You felt foolish, loving a man so easily and so quickly, but it felt like you’d know him for years, not mere days.

You placed your hand on the door, fingers spread and pushed it in to enter a grand hall. A woman quickly flitted over to you, giving you a hard appraisal.

“I’m sorry, but the King isn’t seeing to the townspeople today.”

“Oh, I’m not....” you trailed off, trying to think of the best way to explain yourself as the woman raised an eyebrow at you. “I’m the King’s betrothed. My carriage was attacked and I had to walk the rest of the way here.” You dug out the necklace that the King had sent you as a gift and showed it to her.

Her eyes lit up in recognition and she curtseyed, “Of course, your highness. My apologies. My name is Padmé Amidala. I serve as an advisor to the King. Please, allow me to show you to your rooms.”

“May I not see the King first?” you asked. “I’ve traveled all this way.”

“Wouldn’t you like to make yourself look....presentable first?” 

You looked down and took in your appearance. “I suppose I ought to.”

Padmé nodded and led you towards your rooms. They were grand rooms, richly furnished with all the finest pieces and fabrics. Yet, they lacked the warmth and familiarity of yours back home.

Servants came to draw a bath for you. Once it was full, you dismissed them and sunk into the tub. It’s nice to bathe in warm water again, you thought as you leaned your head against the rim of the tub. 

Your eyes cast a critical glance back and forth as you took in your surroundings. As nice as the rooms were, part of you wondered if it were only a temporary arrangement. After all, you’d have to move into the King’s room eventually once you were married.

Quickly, you sunk below the water at the thought. Sharing a room with another person? Hell, sharing a room with a man? The thought was overwhelming.

When you broke back through the surface, you noticed that the sun was starting to set. It was then that you realized just how much time you had spent with Ben around town. It had gone by in the blink of an eye.

Your fingers started to wrinkle from the water and you decided to emerge from the tub. Wrapping a robe around you, you padded back towards your bedroom to find Padmé waiting for you.

“Your highness, we must take some measurements for your wedding dress,” she informed you as a group of handmaidens swarmed into the room. 

You were guided up onto a pedestal and turned this way and that as they draped a gown around you, pinning and stitching things in place. 

“How soon will this be finished?” you asked.

“Don’t fret, your highness, I’ll have the dress finished in time for your nuptials tomorrow,” the seamstress said as she packed up her things.

“Tomorrow?” you asked incredulously. It was so much sooner than you thought.

“Of course,” Padmé smiled, “The King will want to marry you at sunset tomorrow, as is tradition.”

“Isn’t that... quite soon?” you asked.

“You’ve known each other for years, have you not?”

“Well,” you sighed as you pulled your robe back on. “May I at least speak with the King first?”

“I’m afraid not, your highness,” she said with a sad smile, “His majesty is in a meeting with the war council tonight. It’s to go over plans for reinforcing your father’s troops. I don’t think he’ll be out any time soon.”

“I see,” you said, a frown of disappointment apparent on your face. “I’d like to enjoy dinner in my room tonight, Padmé. There’s no sense in eating in the dining room if I am to be eating alone.”

“Of course, your highness,” Padmé nodded, ushering everyone out the door. She paused in the doorway before turning back to you. “If it helps at all, your highness, please know that his majesty is a kind man. He is just as nervous about this as you, but I can promise you that everything he will ever do is to protect you. When you were late in arriving.... well, I have never seen him more distraught. I was sure he’d scour the kingdom just to find you.”

“I see,” you murmured, looking out the window at the vast kingdom. “Thank you, Padmé.”

She left without another word.

When dinner arrived, you hadn’t realized how hungry you were, but then you remembered that you hadn’t eaten since the tavern fiasco. Regardless of whether or not it actually was the best meal you’ve eaten, your hunger made it so. 

By the time you’d finished eating, the sky had turned into the indigo depths of a lightless ocean. You settled on the window seat and opened the window to feel the chill night air on your face. Your farmer was out there somewhere, with his eyes like the sky in the morning when you have a whole day ahead of you, bright and nary a cloud in the sky. As you closed your eyes, you pictured his face, his strong jaw, his beard as it brushed the shell of your ear during the tour of the kingdom, his strong arms as they wrapped around you. Never had you felt more safe. 

You fell asleep on the bench, dreaming of your farmer. It wasn’t until much later that you woke up to a pair of arms carrying you to bed.

Fluttering your eyelids, you noticed a shadow holding you. Your first instinct was to push back as you gasped in fear.

“Shhhhh, lass,” a man murmured as he tucked you into the covers. “Are you scared?” He gently smoothed your hair out of your face, “Don’t be. I’ll protect you from today onwards. Always.”

In your heart, you believed him. You couldn’t make out any of his features as he retreated towards the hall, but when he opened the door, the candlelight reflected off the crown on his head. By then, you could barely keep your eyes open and let yourself succumb to sleep.

Padmé let you sleep in the next morning, having guessed that you had been through quite the ordeal and were thoroughly exhausted. When they finally woke you up, it was around noon and they started to get you ready for your wedding.

It was all a blur as you felt your nerves begin to rise, settling into your chest like a weight. You couldn’t eat, instead just allowing yourself to be taken over by the process and trusting your new handmaidens and Padmé completely.

Soon, you found yourself at the chapel as the afternoon sun started to set, swathing you in colorful light from the stained glass. Your hand came up to squeeze your pendant in your hand, wishing that your father could have been there. Ahead of you stood a man with his back towards you, a crown nestled in his auburn hair. Part of you wondered if you could really go through with this, but then you remembered that this was for the good of the kingdom. Your life was never just yours. You lived for your people, and what your people needed was for you to solidify this alliance. For your own sake, you hoped that love would come later, once Ben was long forgotten. If you could ever manage that.

You walked with a measured gait towards the front of the chapel, coming to rest next to the man that would be your husband. Your heart was thumping in your chest, but then he turned to you and time stopped.

He watched with a smile as your eyes widened and your mouth parted slightly. He was so very handsome. His beard looked incredibly soft. His eyes were a brilliant blue and you were certain that you’d drown in them someday. He was your farmer, and here he was holding his hand out for you to take.

“I don’t understand,” you murmured as you took his hand.

“When you didn’t show up as expected, I had to go searching for you. We traveled the main road and found your carriage. Then, Anakin and I broke off to find you,” he explained.

“But I thought-”

“That I was a farmer,” he grinned, “I couldn’t put a target on my back when there was already one on yours. Traveling the way we did was better for all involved.”

“You could’ve told me,” you replied, squeezing his hand.

“I hadn’t seen you in years. I wanted to know you just as you are, and for you to know me in the same regard,” he replied, kissing your hand.

“And the name Ben?” you asked.

“A nickname from an old friend who lives in a cloister,” he explained.

“I love you,” you told him earnestly.

His hand came up to cup your cheek, “I love you, too, lass.”

The bishop cleared his throat in front of you and you both shared a wide grin before turning back towards him to finish the proceedings.

For the entire ceremony, you were thinking of the man standing next to you and how you knew that no matter what, everything would be alright. You recited your vows, exchanged your rings, and turned back towards each other.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. Your majesty, you may kiss your bride,” the bishop grinned.

Obi-Wan’s eyes trailed down your face towards your lips as his arm wrapped around your waist to pull you close. His other hand came up to tilt your face towards his. Gently, he stroked his thumb across your cheek. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you settled your hands on his chest. 

He leaned down to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours. To your surprise, he dipped you back, causing you to chuckle against his lips as he straightened the two of you out. Then, he scooped you up and carried you towards your castle so that you could live happily ever after.  

[writefightandflightclub]

A heart in stealth mode:  (Cara Dune x fem!reader)

Summary: Cara has been fighting for so long she doesn’t know how to let her guard down. Your love, though? That crept up on her.

Author’s note: my FIRST TIME writing for my space wife so PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK?! I wanted this to be angsty + hazy + romantic and hope I pulled it off but who knows? EDIT: This was written b4 the G*na drama. I like the fic, so I’m keeping it up, but may not write any more for the character, sadly.

Mood songs / song quote inspo:You can't start a fire / You can't start a fire without a spark / This gun's for hire / Even if we're just dancin' in the dark- Dancing in the Dark, Eddie Berman

You take it all for granted, then you leave / And then it takes a while to realise what you need / If never you find what you're looking for / Come on back to the front porch - Front Porch, Joy Williams

Word Count: 5.5k(ish). It got long, I’m sorry. 

Warnings: 18+ for the smut. F/f: vaginal fingering; oral; strap-on penetration. Language. One reference to a character death. As usual, angst and typos.

Tagging: @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol, @darksideofclarke, @lokiaddicted, @mandoplease, @misssamx, @courageinthemidst

GIF: by @fataldusk​

She had fallen from the heavens quite unlike an angel, leaping fearlessly from a metal mouth and tearing through the Endorian sky, parachute wings cascading behind her. She met the ground already in motion, already ferocious and flanked by her squad, combat boots pounding the ground like the clamour of horses’ hooves. She was muscle and brawn and power and thunder, and you had never seen anyone so beautiful. In that, Carasynthia Dune was alike to an angel. An angel sent to your planet to tear down warlords and dismiss them to hell.

You had caught her off-guard. Not many people could do that. Your stealthy, light feet had picked a careful path through the forested terrain, tailing her squad as their route threatened to encroach on your camp. Your upper hand has lasted only as long as her surprise before strong arms held you. Still, whilst you were the one flipped, grappled and pinned, the instant the shock trooper looked into your eyes you had a hold over her more inescapable than any she’d known.

Even as she pinned you, you couldn’t help but be enthralled by her bright brown eyes and the sweep of her raven hair. You couldn’t help but enjoy the weight of her settled on top of you, her muscular legs straddling your hips, your arms pinned over your head, and a mossy cushion of earth at your back. You had gone through the motions of struggling ineffectually against her, until you were simply squirming beneath her for the hell of it. Just to feel her clamp down on you. 

“Stealthy, for sure. Strong, for your size,” Cara had assessed. “But you’re not a fighter, are you, Princess?” she had asked, eyes bright and inquisitive as she surveyed your civilian clothing. You clearly weren’t an Imp, and you had a rifle which you’d neglected to use. That had told her you were far too trusting to be any kind of soldier.

“More of a lover,” you had half-smiled as she tightened her grip on you. “But I usually like it a little more gentle,” you had purred, arms straining against her grip and not knowing what had come over you.

She had narrowed her eyes at you in interest, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement. Once you had talked yourselves allies, Cara finally released you, though her hold on you was never truly relinquished either, beyond that moment.

During the months that followed, your community’s humble camp had provided safe haven to the shock troopers. They had fanned out to surrounding villages to take out the warlords who had driven you from your homes in the first place. Forced you to hunker in tents and hide like animals. Between missions, Cara’s squad had returned to your base for healing, of whatever kind you could offer. 

If wasn’t long before Cara’s wolfish gaze had begun to find you in the nightly fire glow. It wasn’t long before she had sought out your gentle hands to bind her wounds, your tentative touch brushing against a bared thigh or an arm or a stomach. Your eyes trailing over bust lips and fingertips over bruised cheeks, generating all that heat under the guise of healing. You had felt like a flare every time she looked at you, your desire exposed like a raw fuse line. You felt like metal becoming molten in a forge, every interaction with her stoking this fire in you. She had you ready to be remade and remoulded to fit around her body, as snug as the armour which hugged her shapely contours.

There had been no wooing; there was no convincing to be done - no resolve to chip away at. Cara had no pretences and you had no reservations. Instead, there were knowing smiles. There was you, teetering on the edge of her, always in her orbit, eyes tracking her as though she were a mark. Cara knew fine well what you wanted and she wanted it too. She didn’t like dancing around things. She was a soldier, and she preferred a clear mission. She preferred to act. To be in motion. To talk with her body.

The first night it happened, Cara had been seated on a felled log, legs splayed wide and feet planted, elbows resting on her knees. Her body was hunched yet poised, as though she could spring into action at any moment, if she needed to. She had caught you looking, gaze trailing keenly over the solid mass of her, defined arms and thick thighs and a certain fullness you enjoyed. She had openly appraised you in return, letting you know she liked what she saw too. Casually, looking half-amused the whole while, she had polished off the dregs of her beer before setting the bottle down. Then she had stood, heading away from the commotion of the camp. You simply watched her, tracking towards the clearing where the tents were pitched, until she turned back towards you, with a tilt of her head to beckon you over to her.

“You coming?”

The glint in her eyes and her confident smirk had your stomach tied-up in knots, and yet you had tried to play it cool as you padded towards her, despite the flush rising in your cheeks and the giddy grin which spread over your face the moment she wrapped her arm firmly around your waist, leading you to her pitch.

She had guided you into the cramped tent by the hand, making your humble surroundings feel positively regal. Your bodies had no choice but to press against one another as you settled down on the mats. Cara had laid on her back, arms folded behind her head, a cocked eyebrow and a disarming smile inviting you to make the first move.  

Eagerly, you had crawled right on top of her, straddling her hips and pressing your palms to her folded elbows. Cara had laughed musically, her eyes creasing, when you had suggested you had her pinned, this time. You both knew already - it was a foregone conclusion that Cara was going to take control- but, still, she had humoured you.

“You’ve got me in your snare alright, huntress,” she insisted earnestly, her eyes blazing. “I think I’m a goner.”

You had become entirely bashful in response, that irresistible, half-amused smile cracking her face again as you fumbled for words and helplessly fluttered your eyelashes at her.

“So. Now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?” Cara had purred with an impossibly sweet smile, her voice dropping lower in her throat and her eyes trained on your lips and your breasts which were thrust towards her as you maintained your position.

“You’re too hot to kiss,” you had breathed. “I don’t know if I’ll survive it.”

She had shifted an arm free from you to lift a palm to your face, trailing fingers over your cheek and sweeping her touch over your hair.

“I’ll be gentle with you, beautiful,” Cara had promised, a hard swallow bobbing in her throat. 

“Don’t be,” you had challenged, and something about the combination of your shyness and boldness made her eyes become so wolfish they practically growled at you.

As the lust gathered in your darkening eyes in return, Cara had lurched her head up like a sprung trap. She had captured your faraway lips and you had sunk down to meet her, mouths melding and tongues trying to fold themselves into one like molten metal. There was a rising heat as you melted into the kiss. That heat like a forge, reshaping you and fitting you to her every contour as your bodies merged; became liquid. 

She had rocked you in the depths of the jungle, in the sticky night, sweat beading like jewels embroidered on your skin. Her reverent touch had made you feel royal, even when you had nothing but your wits and your rifle to call your own. She whispered “my Princess” into the shell of your ear, the words like the breeze parting leaves in the dark depths of night. Like the fingers plunging to part your folds in the dense black. You had whimpered rhythmically for her like the cicadas and crooned for her like a songbird. Your sounds had seemed to fill the whole expansive space of the forest, from whispers in thick grasses to wails in the canopy, even as your tent enclosed you both, barely wider than your bodies writhing there. Never has anyone felt so transcendent when so close to the ground, you could swear.

After that first time, those hot, sticky embraces kept coming. You had collided, and now there was nothing you could do but release the energy like a storm. You had pleasured each other until she growled like thunder on top of you. Until you jolted like lightning beneath her. Together, you had equalled a squall which could sway the outer reaches of the forest, and you raged until you were spent. Until there was nothing left but calm in the centre of it all.

At times, she had taken you gently, rolling you on top of her, your back flush to her pillowy chest, her knees coming between yours and spreading your thighs until they strained from being parted. She had slid her hand to your folds, her touch beginning on your clit as soft and rhythmic as the patter of a raindrop. Then, her touch would build you up until your pleasure was akin to a waterfall tumbling from a cliff edge - enough force to erode mountains. Her fingers had curled into you; two then three of them filling you up while she held you firmly in place, until she had you spasming in the throes of pleasure, your arousal trickling down beyond you to coat her stomach and thighs, merging with her own heat.

She had always showered you in praise and compliments, breathing pretty words into your ear in the near dark until you felt like you could take no more.

“So perfect. You’re so beautiful. I know you’re beautiful when you come for me. Show me. Show me. Show me. That’s it, Princess.”

Sometimes she was rougher, when you wanted it, topping you all brawn and ferocity and as thunderous as the day you saw her fall from the sky. Sometimes the strap-on she looked so damn good in would slam you, skin slapping against yours as you gripped Cara’s muscular arms either side of you, your biting fingers ensnaring her like the barbs of a trap and refusing to release. You had been enthralled by the way her breasts would bounce and undulate with each motion, until she would pin her body flush to yours and almost crush you with the force of her, buckles and straps digging in at your hips until it stung. You hadn’t cared. You had liked it. When you were close, Cara would dip her lips to you, her tongue twining with yours and her sweep of raven hair brushing over your face and neck like feathers, the softness of her sending you over that edge as you wrapped your limbs around her, clinging on for dear life as she hit your sweet spot until you whited-out.

It was rare that she had let you take control, and when she did you would make the most of it. When you’d come down from your high you would keenly trail your mouth over every inch of her. You had marked her neck and dragged your tongue over her collarbone. You had sucked her nipples into your mouth and circled your tongue languidly around the peaks of her. You had sunk your mouth to her heat to taste how wet it had made her to fuck you, your tongue lapping and writhing against her folds, fingers finding purchase again like wolf’s claws digging into her full thighs. From the way she would moan for you as you dipped your tongue towards her entrance, you’d think you had wrestled her into submission. You’d think she was powerless against you. Perhaps that’s how she truly felt when you had made her come undone.

No matter how she took you, afterwards Cara would always hold you. You had spooned and you had nuzzled your head into her breasts, or across her thighs, seeking out all the softness of her. You had traced your fingertips over her body and learned every muscle and every scar so well you could find them in the dark. You had gazed into her pretty eyes in the low lamplight and you had spiralled. Spiralled into her. Into her beauty and brawn and the way she had rocked you and held you in that sticky night.

Then, abruptly, after a string of nights like this, it was time for her to move on.

On your last night you had teased, “I bet you have a lover in every camp.” Cara had shaken her head, looking tortured as she replied, “No. No, there’s only you.”

You had cried in the morning when she said her goodbyes to you, and she had tugged you into her chest and wrapped you in her strong arms. She had walked away with what remained of her depleted squad and you had simply watched her go, half expecting her to turn around with a tilt of her head -like she had that night- and ask “You coming?”.

But she didn’t look back. Carasynthia Dune couldn’t bear to.

Cara was a soldier. She preferred a clear mission with a clear exit strategy. This time, she had neglected to plan how she might leave with her heart intact. You though, you were a builder, a protector. You had made a home here for this community, however humble, and you had kept them safe. You had done the same for Cara too. It turned out you had caught the shock trooper off-guard in more ways than one. She had never expected to fall so hard for you, but your love had crept up on her and had never stopped tailing her since.

It was years until you saw her next. Until she had begun visit you in your wooden house out on some Sargon backwater. You were barely surprised the first time she showed up with a firm knock on your door, all muddied combat boots and charming smile as she stood shyly on your wraparound porch, chancing that you would greet her like an old friend and not an enemy.

Cara had been a mercenary by then, an Alliance tattoo on her cheek, and you had sat out on your porch for hours. You had talked and smiled and drank tea and circled the inevitability of it until your hands had accidently brushed, and even as your breath stalled in your chest Cara was already on you. You had practically climbed her in need before you fell to the floor together in the doorway, not even making it inside before you unravelled your clothes and each other.

She had still held you afterwards. Had wrapped you up in her warmth and kissed your hairline and whispered how much she had missed you. You had missed her words curling in the pit of you. Had missed all of her, in fact. 

From then on, Cara would come and visit whenever her missions allowed her to return to this sorry backwater you so loved. Sometimes, in the night, she had whispered her dreams to you in the dark. Pretty words about retiring and starting anew. But, like all dreams, they always faded in the stark light of day. She had always left you with the rise of the sun, as if she could only dance with you in the dark. Like fire glow, which licks idly and prettily at shadow, and whose display dissipates with daylight.

Sometimes, she rocked-up fresh from a bloody excursion, bloody herself and looking outwardly like a wolf fresh from a kill. Behind the armour though, you knew this strong, ferocious woman came to you delicate and quaking like the wings of a dragonfly, her rabbit heart fluttering and nervous as your gentle hands deftly tended to her wounds.

Years ago, you would have always suggested that it was you who was the rabbit and she the wolf. However, you had always been hungry and bold with your love. It was Cara who had been flighty and nervous in matters of the heart. She didn’t like to feel exposed. To feel weak. And you? You made her melt.

When she already felt vulnerable, after battle, she had both sought you out for comfort and shrunk back from you all at once. She needed to bask in your warmth, but she also feared that your licking flames might burn if she came too close whilst too open. Over the years, she had built up her defences, and try as you might you could no longer peel them away. Whenever you moulded to her body she was always wearing armour of some form. Always trying to hold you at arm’s length in some kind of way.

Cara would pleasure you and hold you still, but she wouldn’t allow you to touch her. She wouldn’t let you have her liquid beneath you. If she became molten, how would she ever put herself back together? You had softened her like nothing else, and defenceless is the last thing a solider wants to feel. She had seemingly forgotten the softness of those nights in the forest, when you had stripped every kind of armour away from her, and still, you could never deny her when she came to you, because you hoped and hoped that somehow you might revive her heart, buried as it was beneath her breast plate. You hoped that you might light the fuse and revive the love hiding there in the dark.

One particularly sticky night in the Sargon summer, Cara had come to you after months apart, troubled and unnervingly quiet. She had been covered in blood, which had dried liked peeling rust on her skin. Not her blood, she insisted. Not her quarry’s either.

You had opened your door and she didn’t even step over the threshold. Her eyes had been alarmingly hollow instead of bright, and when you reached for her hands they were trembling like leaves. This time, Cara didn’t deny your touch. Didn’t protest when you bundled her towards your refresher. She had leaned gratefully into your palm as you caressed her hair and her face and slowly stripped her armour away. Her eyes had encouraged you; pleaded with you, as you gently eased her beneath the warm water and let it soothe her.

You had smoothed a cloth over her whole body, delicately soaping the blood and dirt from her skin, hoping that your touch felt like something akin to worship. Hoping that it made her feel as safe and as royal and as revered as her touch had made you feel, back in those long-lost forests of Endor.

“Cara?” you had asked finally with a broken voice, after as much silence as you could bear. “What happened?”

She had finally looked up at you, her eyes turbulent, brows knitted together as the water sluiced over both your bodies. Her soft voice had come out in monotone.

“I didn’t make it in time. The quarry killed someone’s wife before I could…”

“It’s not your fault, baby” you venture, wanting to reach out and hold her, but not wanting her to bolt away from your touch. Her muscles were tensed and she had looked ready to run like a tumult of horses breaking free.

She sniffs. “I know that. It’s the fault of the fucker who did it. I took him down right after. Didn’t make it too clean either. I just… The husband… he’d lost everything he loved. That’s what he said... and I...”

Cara had gripped on to your hands for dear life as tears had cascaded down her cheek, mingling with the water. She had seen a lot of death. But this one had really got to her.

Oh. Oh.

No wonder she had buried her rabbit heart under so much armour.

It was soft. It was soft. It was soft. 

You had smoothed your palm over her cheek. You had swiped her tears away with the pad of your thumb.

“My angel,” you soothed fondly, with a soft and steady smile, knowing that all you could offer was comfort. “Let’s get you dried and get into bed, okay? We can cuddle, or you can rest. Whatever you need.”

Her brows had still been knitted together but Cara allowed you to bundle her into the bedroom, to tuck her under layers of toasty blankets. She had been tired. You had slotted yourself behind her body and held her. Her hands had clung on to yours as if you were a parachute cord – the one thing she knew not to let go of. Her lifeline. Her canopy. You had stayed until you had felt her relax, her breathing sleep-ridden, and you had quietly extricated yourself to the porch.

The sky had darkened, and familiar sounds were swelling around you from the depths of the forest. You had lost track of how long you had been sitting there in the muggy night. Sweat clung to your skin like that first night with her, but suddenly you didn’t feel like royalty. The beads were no longer jewels. The spark had waned. Cara still made love to you, but it had lost some of its tenderness. It was as though she had convinced herself that your states were fixed; she was a fighter and you were a lover. You didn’t know what else to do. You didn’t know how else to fight so that she might let you love her. So, for a while you had just sat there on your porch, remembering, and letting a mug of tea grow cold in your grip. Letting the nostalgic sounds of cicadas and songbirds wash over you. 

You had almost startled when Cara appeared in the doorway, her movements uncharacteristically light and careful. You had yearned for her. You had yearned for her desperately even as she stood right in front of you.

“Can I sit with you a while?” she had asked softly, as if you might dream of saying no, and the absurd question tugged a gentle laugh from you.

You didn’t say anything but you had smiled with your eyes and patted the bench next to you. She had taken a seat, and you wrapped your arm around her, easily folding her into your embrace, her head nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder. Cara remained there in silence for a while, perhaps letting the sounds of the night wash over her too. Perhaps remembering herself. After a moment of contemplation, she had tugged in a sudden deep breath as if coming back to life. She had sat up and twisted her face to look at you. You had met her gaze, surprised to find her eyes more unguarded than you had seen them in a long while.

Slowly, unsurely, as if it were your first kiss, Cara had dipped her head towards you, letting her nose bump and nuzzle against yours. Letting her lips hover, hesitant but wanting as her breath fanned over you.

“I want…” she had whispered a half-completed thought, and you pressed her to finish it. Begged her to finish it. Sometimes you couldn’t comprehend the way she hesitated with you, even after all this time, as if you were a wolf holding her beating heart in your teeth. “I want you to touch me.”

At her words, you had blazed like a flare all over again, your desire for her on show like an exposed fuse line as your voice trembled, catching in your throat.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Yes,” Cara had insisted, and now it was you who reacted like a sprung trap, lips crushing to hers like you had never known touch. Like you were starved and had suddenly learned to hunt. Like your lips and tongue sought to encase her and ensnare her and devour her. She had moaned into your mouth, her sounds billowing and soft and needier than you’d ever heard her, almost a protest but entirely a surrender.

You led her to your bed by the hand, as if your surroundings were regal and she was a Queen. You had laid her out on the covers, tracing your lips softly over her mouth, her neck, her collarbone. Another act of worship. In moments, her pleas and praise encouraging you, you were peeling her top over her head and shimmying her shorts away from her full, sturdy thighs until every gorgeous contour of her was visible. Drinking the sight of her in, you trailed kisses over her breasts, her nipples pebbling beneath your tongue. You kissed her stomach, all the way down to the neat, dark trail of hair guiding you to her wanting core. Nestling in between her thighs, your sure hands had parted her legs until she was entirely exposed to you, her folds so readily glistening and her moans spurring you on.

You had sunk yourself into her heat, eating her out like a parched woman dipping her head into the soft babble of a stream, tongue lapping gratefully at a refreshing, life-giving deluge. Your tongue had shimmied all the way down from her clit to her entrance, dipping over every contour and sweet spot like a river finding its course. You worked her with your lips, sucking at her swollen nub, your tongue probing and dipping into her entrance to collect her arousal, tasting her sweet release. You practically submerged yourself, and you had no reason to come up for air.

Cara hadn’t come undone like this in so long. She had moaned prettily into the air for you, her core practically molten, hot and wet beneath you. Knowing how good you made her feel and how much she wanted you was everything you’d ever craved. It was everything you’d ever been hunting for, and her response as you worked her had you moaning into her heat too. Your hands had gripped on to her thighs even more firmly, clawing at her as she began to buck her hips and writhe herself desperately on your face, your mouth and nose and chin all pressing in to her and becoming slick with her.

“Beautiful. You’re so … beautiful,” she had gushed, in between groans, gazing down at the sight of you nestled in between her thighs. You had looked up at her all laid out and squirming for you and you were overcome. She was your angel. She was still the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

Unable to respond with words you had simply dug your tongue into her folds with renewed vigour, gliding a finger into her slick and smiling as you watched her fists clench desperately into the blankets. As you watched her clench her teeth and tip her head back to growl in ecstasy, the sound sending a shiver right through you.

It had been so long since Cara had surrendered. To anything. But she had finally surrendered to you after so long. She had unravelled beneath your touch and your tongue, moaning for you as if overcome by a storm so powerful it could split the sky clean open like thunder. Whilst you weren’t sure whether she was ready to surrender to love, you were so deeply happy that she had trusted you enough to be vulnerable like this again.

When she had floated down from her high, you had cleaned her up, and you had sat together on your porch in nothing but your pants, the warm night surrounding you like a blanket. Like an old friend. You had clutched mugs of warm, sweet tea and clasped each other. Laughed together. You had sat there even as the rain fell in the forest around you, letting the sounds and sensations of night enclose you. The patter of the rain. The smell of petrichor and camomile. Cara had even taken your hand and dragged you into the clearing, circling her arms around you and swaying you to silent music as your bare feet became muddied and the rain tumbled down to wash any last trace of her armour away, the heavens opening to cleanse their angel. 

You had held her tightly, while you could hold her. You had a nagging feeling that she would be gone again in the morning, all of this magic fading in the harsh light of day.

You knew fine well that Cara could jump headfirst out of a spaceship. She could run headfirst into battle. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to run headfirst into you. Cara had always been on the move. Always in motion. Her heart was always a moving target, in case it ever got pinned down.

In the morning, she had watched you sleep, her eyes glowing with gentle awe and admiration. And then, she had gotten up to leave you anyway.

You had stirred and awoken as she slunk out of your house. But this time, instead of watching her walk away from you, like usual, you had run to the door and called after her, you voice ringing clearly into the forest.

She turned back towards you, outwardly looking hard and impenetrable - but you knew better.

“Din got word on a new bounty. Gotta ship out from town later,” she had explained apologetically, shifting her weight guiltily between her feet.

You had tracked down the porch and onto the forest path where she had stood, finding conviction in your steps. If Cara couldn’t be brave enough, you guessed that one of you would have to be. If she couldn’t be a lover, maybe you would have to be a fighter.

“Carasynthia Dune,” you had begun, leaning up to press a chaste yet loving kiss to her lips. Your gaze had remained steady, lips curled up into a soft smile. “You’re my angel. My thunder. My calm. My heart. Come back to me safe, will you?”

“I always come back to you,” she had admitted, looking up at you shyly from beneath her lashes, even as she looked taken aback by your words. “Can’t help it.” The hold you had on her was too strong to resist. Even after all this time. Especially after all this time.

On this occasion, you had been the one to turn away from her, padding back towards the house. This time, Cara had to watch you walk away from her.

“I don’t know what I’m so afraid of,” she had called out to you, voice wavering as it rang through the clearing. 

You had stopped in place and turned slowly towards her, your eyes warm and sad at the same time. You had taken a few small steps towards her and Cara closed the remaining distance, even as she looked tortured by the words she had blurted out. You hadn’t known why Cara’s heart was in stealth mode, but you knew that sooner or later she would have to uncover it. Let her heart live as ferociously as the rest of her being. 

“Me neither,” you had admitted, with a small shrug. “You jump out of spaceships with nothing but a parachute and trust fate. I promise if you jump into this love, I will give you a soft landing. I’ll protect you.”

As soon as your confession was through, you had become bashful again, all fumbled words and batting lashes and every single thing Cara could never resist on you. “Assuming that you... I mean... if you feel...”  

Suddenly, Cara was no longer afraid. She knew you. You were a protector. You were her protector. Even if her heart was in your teeth, she had suddenly known it would be safe there.

All that time ago, your love had crept up on her. And ever since, when she had moved forward it had always been with a quick glance behind her, to check that your love was still tailing her. She was afraid of being hunted, but as soon as you had turned away, she knew that she was far more afraid of losing you. Of looking back and not seeing you there at all.

“I do. I love you. I’ve loved you since Endor,” she had breathed, her brown eyes sheening with emotion.

“I’ve loved you since you fell from the sky,” you had replied, feeling nervous, as if you had ensnared a bird and its wings thrummed against your rib cage.

You examined Cara’s expression, and an when unguarded smile had inched across her face, you had tilted your head to beckon her over to you, trying your best to mimic her most classic move.

As soon as she had obliged and stepped closer, you had grabbed her and pulled her on to your lips, circling your arms around her sturdy circumference as you both melted into the kiss. When you broke for air, you were both wearing bright, even smiles, and Cara was every bit as giddy as you had been that first night. Happiness had fluttered in your chest like all the birds in the forest were contained there.

Your eyes had glowed as you gave her a small, encouraging nod. “So I’ll see you when you get home then?” You had stolen another quick kiss from her plush lips, and this time as Cara left, she had held your hand as you walked her to the edge of the clearing. “Oh, you should bring Din and the Child to visit too.”

Cara had smiled but looked sceptical, ruffling a hand through her sweeping hair. “Din already teases me about how soft I am for you. I don’t know if I could bear to give him any more ammo.”

You had grinned widely at the revelation, joy swelling in your chest at the thought of her speaking fondly of you. “Just tell Din that if he dares to tease you I’ll fight him.”

You had reached the edge of the clearing and Cara paused to face you, knowing you wouldn’t go any further in your bare feet.

“Bold talk, little one,” Cara had smiled, cocking an eyebrow, her cheeks appling in a smile.

“Oh, you don’t think I could take a bounty hunter?” you mocked, indignantly. “I pinned you, didn’t I?”

The smile which inched over Cara’ face was positively wolfish, and you thought she might devour you. Instead, she had inched her body towards you, tipping her head forward until her voice billowed over the shell of your ear. “I’ll be back home soon, my Princess, and I dare you to try it.” 

This time, when she had turned from you, it didn’t feel like losing her. You knew there was a promise in her eyes to return. Cara Dune’s heart was no longer in stealth mode. It was still soft, but you believed it could also be ferocious; this time, both a lover and a fighter. You had watched your angel go, knowing she soon would be coming back to where she belonged.

[bbugyu]

a knight's honor + choi seungcheol

he hadn't expected rescuing you to be so simple, and you had been waiting for him in more ways than one.

part one | part two

wc.5868 | smut, flangst, royal au, princess!reader and knight!cheol, its like tangled meets shrek, i recognize that thats awful but i cant help it, this is (again) some soft dirty shit, title kinks, begging, overstim, kinda edging?, unprotected sex (its like ye olden times ok pregnancy was magic and stds were curses), pls have safe sex irl, cream pie, unrealistic representation of how virgins have sex but thats why its erotica, vague mention of sexual harrassment of minors (wanted to include this just in case), cursing (this should be a given at this point)

this was originally meant to be a goofy drabble based off of this post from @hansols-yoda-boxers and then i predictably got extremely carried away and wrote something way too angsty, only carried a couple of comedic elements, and then doused it all in porn with too much plot. thanks for the inspo, mercy!

*

seungcheol swiftly rode through the oversized halls of the castle, leading the dragon further from the living quarters. further from the tower. further from you. he knew you had waited for someone like him to arrive, and he felt awful for making you wait even longer, but dragons were far too long living to be slain. they were meant to be outsmarted.

his trusty steed galloped, only slowing to turn sharp corners, causing the dragon to crash into the walls as it tried to follow. the halls got narrower, and seungcheol said a word of encouragement to his horse as it neared a closed wooden door.

the door burst open with an explosion of splinter and hooves into a nearly empty dining hall, and the dragon crashed into the doorway and clawed desperately at the floor as it tried to fit its too large body through the narrow opening. as it realized its folly, it tried to back out, but the force at which it was chasing seungcheol had wedged its body further into the doorway than expected. he grinned victoriously, patting his steed's neck and urging it towards the other hall entrance as the dragon roared in his wake.

and again, he rode, as fast as his horse would take him back to you, his almost too long hair blown back by the speed. a smile creeped onto his face. had it really been that easy? they could be back to the royal castle by sundown. he was never one to brag, but he wondered how so many could have failed before him if all he had to do to succeed was lead the dragon away until it trapped itself.

he was a well revered knight at home. he was smart, strong, and he knew how to speak diplomatically. he had climbed ranks young, younger than any before him. the king had taken a liking to him years earlier, so much so that he had delayed seungcheol's mission to save his daughter in fear that he would fail. not because he didn't believe in him, no, seungcheol had always been their best bet by far, and he had argued to be sent sooner, but the king had always denied his requests. because no one in eight years had ever succeeded. because he saw seungcheol as the son he had never been given. because he refused to lose yet another child to the foul beast. 

he flew off his horse at the base of the stairwell, giving her a reassuring pat and eyeing the stone walls that were stroked with bright colors and patterns. his fingers followed the painted seam of a leaf before he hopped up the first few steps, hand landing on the hilt of his sword, unsure if he would truly be able to save you without a fight. the stairs wound upwards, and seungcheol lost track of how many steps he had taken less than halfway. even still, the discomfort of the hike dissipated as he approached a large wooden door, and he took the last few steps quickly in anticipation.

he almost tested the handle, then thought better. he leaned against the door with a hand instead, listening. "princess?"

he heard wood shift against stone. "who goes there?"

your voice even sounded beautiful though the thick wood of the door, with a lilt that he almost recognized. "my princess, i am sir seungcheol, a knight of your father's table, and i've come to rescue you from this abandoned castle."

there was a pause, then he hurriedly backed away from the door as he heard approaching footsteps. the door swung open inwards, and he was doused in the sunlight that streamed from the room you lived in.

you were beautiful, he thought. even more beautiful than the legends said. perhaps they had tried their best, but seungcheol knew they hadn't seen you like he could now. he remembered when he was lucky enough to have met you briefly at a spring festival, back when such things happened in the kingdom. before you were taken and the happiness had left. he remembered the way you smiled and danced with him as only a child, but being viewed through his wide, curious eyes, wondering why the kingdom's only princess had held his hand and swung him around her in the plaza. his heart felt light as he saw the same features upon your face, matured and even more lovely than ever. he wondered if you remembered him, too, despite knowing that you had danced with likely a hundred others, though only some of them as young as he had been. he was so caught up in thinking about how he may be the first in the kingdom to see you since your taking, he hardly noticed the look you were giving him, one hand on the door and the other on your hip.

"you didn't kill her, did you?"

seungcheol blinked. "k-kill her?"

"penelope. the dragon," you specified, despite feeling as though you truly shouldn't have to. "you didn't kill her?"

his hand left the hilt of his sword, and he kneeled, bowing his head as he remembered who you were to him. "no, my princess. slaying dragons is not something i would do willingly."

you stared at him, his dark hair grazing over his eyes as he looked back at you in awe, and your gaze softened at his words of respect to the powerful race. no one had ever made it this far, not the entire time you had lived in this castle. when he had arrived, you were with penelope in the garden, and she spotted the horse riding dutifully towards the castle. you questioned her noises, then watched her gaze, quickly mounted her back and allowed her to take you back to your tower as the horse neared. you had heard penelope when she roared in the distance - the same roar she gave when you had to help her untangle from a chained chandelier last week - and you had wondered how he trapped her. how he outsmarted her. although, you thought. it was before midday, and penelope had always been slightly slower in the mornings.

nevertheless, there was a handsome man kneeling before you, with a proven heart of gold and a penchant for calling you his princess, and you had been feeling particularly lonely as the recent weeks dragged on.

you reached down for his hand, which he extended to meet yours. he kissed the back of your hand briefly before rising to his feet again, his eyes never leaving your face. "princess, if i may speak freely-"

"you may," you said, looking up to him expectantly.

"you are the most beautiful being i have ever laid my eyes upon. are you sure you're not a goddess?"

you felt your chest set aflame at the compliment. "sir seungcheol, if i didn't know you were a knight, i would say you were courting me."

you smiled when his eyes got big, realizing his mistake. "milady, i apologize, i did not mean to-"

"hush, my brave knight." his jaw clenched when you purred the words to him, pulling him by the hand into your living quarters.

he looked about the round room, taking in as much of it as he could. the ornate canopy bed opposite the door, against the only flat wall in the tower. where the walls jointed on one side, there was a steep staircase leading up to a lofted area, and on the other, a door. the windows were large and let in lots of light, one of which was pushed open to allow a breeze to waft through the room. large bookshelves curved along one side, with a ladder expertly positioned under the section you were currently reading through. the tall walls were covered in paintings, some old and sunwashed, while others were as vibrant as the blue sky, and many that fell somewhere between. a hobby you had picked up with time, he supposed, before he remembered the similar paintings he had seen at the base of the stairwell. had you been brave enough to venture down there, as well, when you had run out of space here? he noticed a table to his right, at which there was an askew wooden chair. that must have been where you were sat when he arrived, and he moved towards it, finding a notebook and a quill. he looked away from your neat handwriting, not wishing to invade your privacy, before hearing you shut the door. 

"i've never had visitors."

he stared at you as you closed the small gap between the two of you. "i-"

"you didn't mean to visit, i know," you said, fingers running up the chainmail on his forearm. "you meant to rescue. but alas, sir seungcheol, i may have once been prisoner here, but the fearsome penelope has grown fond of me. i have been free to go for years."

he watched your face, his fingers itching to reach for you. "my princess, what keeps you here, then? so far from the kingdom that loves you?"

you exhaled lightly, realizing you hadn't spoken to anyone but a dragon about anything for far too long, much less these feelings. perhaps sir seungcheol wasn't the worst person to confide in, if he had made it past your tenacious penelope. "i was still so young when i was taken, but even then, my parents only ever spoke of me as a pawn for the kingdom." your voice was quieter than you intended, and you noticed seungcheol's shoulders tense, not wanting to react poorly to his king's action, but unable to not empathize with you. "i was a disappointment from birth for not being a son. all they wanted me for was to marry someone from a powerful family. that was my role to them, and the sooner the better. when i was taken, i was almost thankful." you thought a moment, and seungcheol watched you like he was on the edge of his seat. "fate bought me some time."

"my princess, i'm sorry," he paused, hesitating. "i didn't realize the hardship-"

"how old were you?" you asked, interrupting him before he could claim you had a hard life. you didn't. you knew that. you were luckier than most. "were you a knight before i left?"

he looked down at you, your eyes large as you questioned him. "n-no, i pledged because of your taking."

you smiled vaguely. "you joined to save me?"

seungcheol's eyes hid from yours suddenly. "yes, i suppose that is why," he said, adjusting his belt and the equipment that hung from it. your eyes flicked downwards as he cleared his throat. "it happened a week before my sixteenth birthday. i volunteered as soon as i could."

you watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed, still avoiding your gaze and instead staring at the paintings adorning the walls. sixteen was the youngest anyone was allowed to enlist, but none that joined that young ever got knighted. you thought of the dedication he must have had at such a young age, but you remembered that you had befriended a dragon at the same age. "you're not much older than i, then."

his lip folded under his teeth, eyes on a deep purple painting of the dragon - penelope, you had called her. "i know."

just then, the floor shook with a low grumbling roar. your eyes went to the window. "sounds like penelope escaped your trap."

seungcheol's hand went to his sword immediately, and you pushed his hand away from the hilt.

"please, sir seungcheol," you gave him a teasing look. "she only bites if i want her to."

he looked at you, hearing the gust of strong flapping wings approaching. "do you want her to?"

you smiled. "not at all."

you went to the window as the dragon approached, the tower being cast in darkness as her wings obscured the windows and shaking as she gingerly gripped it, her head poking in through the opening. he wondered how often she did that. if the tower was at risk of collapsing from her visits.

"are you okay?" you asked, placing a hand on her snout. "he didn't hurt you, did he?"

seungcheol swallowed hard as he watched you, doing his best to not show fear. he had spent six years training to, against his better judgement, slay the so-called "ruthless" dragon that had killed many knights before him, yet here you were, baby talking to it. and it was chirping in response. he allowed the two of you to exchange words and grunts for longer than he felt comfortable, but he truly wasn't in much of a state to stop you.

"well, go on, then," you said finally. "go take a nap, you had a hard morning, we shouldn't get any more visitors for a few weeks."

the dragon let out a gentle roar, and sunlight flooded back into the room as it left, flapping away. he approached you as you watched her, and he wondered if you intended to stay here forever.

"she only kills people with wicked hearts," you said quietly.

seungcheol stood beside you by the window, watching your profile. "she can sense them?"

you nodded, and he thought of all the brave men that had come before him only to never return. he had idolized them, once, when he was too young to understand, but he knew she was right. they only dreamt of the riches saving her would bring them. men the age of your father bragging that they would bring you back for you to be made their queen, giving them the kingdom. you would be indebted to them, they had said. he wondered how the men that had sworn to protect the kingdom and its inhabitants could speak such vulgar words about the one and only princess, especially when you had been only a child when you were taken. seungcheol was the youngest knight among them, the youngest to be accepted of any trainees, even to this day. bottom of the pecking order. he knew if he said something, he would never get the chance to save you for the right reasons. to try. to succeed. so he had kept his mouth shut for far too long. now, he thought, they had gotten what they had deserved.

"i've been waiting," you sighed, turning to look up at him, his gaze shooting away from yours on instinct. "for a man with a good heart. a man smart enough to be worthy of my hand."

seungcheol stared at the open window as you walked behind him, trying to understand your words in a way that did not mean him. "p-princess, i don't think i under-"

you tugged at the ties of his armor, remembering well the way your home army built it. he jumped, grasping at the metal chest plate before it clattered against the ground. "sir seungcheol, why don't you stay a while?"

he leaned the chestplate against the wall and spun to face you, brows furrowed. he had sworn to protect and serve you blindly, giving up any family he may have dreamed of having in the past. he had rejected courtship in favor of being fully prepared to die in an attempt to save you from your prison. and when he found you, my god, he couldn't have been more blown away. you were more stunning than he could have ever imagined, a radiance to you that was indescribable. he wanted to take you home, to the kingdom he called home. to your parents, the king and queen, and to reunite the royal family for the first time in nearly a decade. he wanted to see the way he had imagined your face would light up at the reunion. but you…

your hands landed on his chest, now only covered by a cotton tunic, your fingers splayed across the toned muscle beneath the fabric. "i've… never had visitors…"

your repeated phrase read like a plea, and his hands instinctively went up to hold you in comfort. your eyes met his again, and he begged to any god that would listen for a way to say no. but the way your gaze held his, your small hands against his pounding chest, the way your teeth briefly pulled back your lower lip…

he prayed for forgiveness for breaking oath before he raised a hand to your jaw, leaning down into you.

your fingers gripped at his tunic in anticipation as your lips met, and you sighed happily at the contact. his lips were soft and plush against yours, and you considered how lucky you were that the knight smart enough to reach you was also incredibly beautiful. his eyelashes brushed against your cheek before he pulled away, and he held your face near his.

"my princess, why me?" he searched your eyes. "i've already sworn my life to serve you. you could have any prince in th-"

"oh, hush," you smiled briefly. "my dear, sweet, noble seungcheol. you being the one to reach me has been service enough."

though seungcheol would never desire to oppose you, he disagreed. he had so much more to do for you. he pulled your waist into him, kissing you deeper. you moaned into his mouth, and he thought you sounded more angellic than any choir he had ever heard. his fingers dug into the fabric of your dress, and he wondered briefly how much you wanted from him. how horribly would he desecrate the oath of knightship for your sake? everything in him yearned for you, a feeling he had never fathomed before. how could he possibly say no, when your body was against his, begging for him to say yes?

you pulled at the strings holding his armguards, letting the chainmail and leather clatter to the floor on either side of you, and seungcheol watched you, swollen lips parted slightly, as you unthreaded the corset of your dress.

"seungcheol?"

his dark eyes met yours, an involuntary reaction to you calling him casually shooting straight to his groin. his hands were on your waist when his tongue shot out to wet his suddenly dry lips. "how can i serve you better, princess?"

you smiled slowly, pulling your hair away from your nape as you spun in his grip. "help me out?"

seungcheol's voice may have wavered slightly when he said "of course," but his motions were anything but hesitant. you briefly wondered if he had done this for any women before you, taking down their dress ties and coaxing the material off their shoulders like he did yours. or, perhaps, you thought excitedly. perhaps he just had a sister at home, or he had aided his mother in the past, and this would be something new for him, as well.

the tunic and corset fell from your form, leaving you in a thin slip and your undergarments, and you turned again, stepping out of the fabric around your ankles to push into seungcheol's chest, pushing him towards the bed in which you spent every night alone for far too long, your lips desperately seeking his. his fingers gripped around your waist, and he felt the warmth of your beautiful skin on his fingertips through the cotton material that kept him from seeing all of you, and it ignited something in him.

seungcheol slipped an arm below your hips to lift you slightly, swinging you over and walking you to your neatly made bed. his clothes, he thought. he had ridden through mud that morning. he sank to his knees as he placed you at the foot of the bed, not wanting to bring the taint of the outside world into the sheets you dreamt upon. you held him, down on one knee between your split legs, as his lips trailed down your neck, and his hands ran down the curve of your hip in a hurry. your hands never left his neck, his nape, his shoulders. you felt him tense at your vocal reaction to his touch. you adored the way he touched you. like you were a sculpture. a beautiful form in clay, and he had to swipe the pads of his fingers over every inch to make sure it was right. you were nothing less than perfection to him, and he had to make sure his sculpture represented the curve of your waist well, and the way it met your breasts, then down your spine and over your hip, feeling around your ass before running down your thighs. you sighed and moaned, making his fingers tense on whatever flesh he was grasping at those moments, and you wondered if all of it would feel this good.

"seungcheol," you said suddenly, hands cradling his skull as he paused his hushed praises of your collarbones to look up at you. "i'm not asking this of you as your princess."

a small smile tugged at his cheeks, dimpling them, understanding what you wished to clarify. "princess," he addressed, but with a dark tonal change that had you tingling for contact. "i'm not doing this as your knight."

you only managed to smile at him briefly before he dug his hands under your slip, pulling the cotton over your head. he tossed it somewhere behind you, but it didn't matter, because you didn't even have time to be annoyed that he was severely more dressed than you before his mouth dipped to your core.

you gasped, hard, the feeling of his tongue on your clit through your panties, and you grasped at his hair desperately. seungcheol only grunted when you stuttered out his name, and he only looked up at you, still tasting at you through the fabric. "christ, seungcheol, i'm sensitive."

he nodded, lulling you into a false sense of reprieve as he pulled away, but it almost felt like pity when all he said was "you taste too good," and all he did was pull your panties down your thighs. you didn't see where those got discarded, either, because you were too distracted by the stars that danced across your canopy, you back arcing over your bed at the feeling of seungcheol's tongue pressing into you, his lips latching around your sensitive hood and making you squeal out repetitions of his name, gripping at anything you could. his hands held your thighs up, out of his way, but in a position comfortable for you, letting you settle your legs where it felt best. he could feel your walls tensing around his languid muscle, and your grip on his hair, right at the crown of his skull, made him throb in need. you cried out loud, and if you were capable of coherent thought as you came hard, and directly on his tongue, you would have been asking why it never felt this good when you had gotten yourself off. maybe seungcheol was the answers to your prayers after all.

his eyes met yours again when you finally managed to open them, and he licked a wide stripe up your pussy. you could almost focus on his pupils, dilated in lust, and he tugged at the ties around his riding boots. he pulled you to sit up as he stood, pressing your lips together again. you moaned, tasting yourself on him, your arms instinctively draping themselves around his shoulders as he hurriedly undid his belt buckle. you adjusted your posture, and you were tugging at where his tunic was tucked into the belt he was stripping away from his body, pulling it over his head as soon as he dropped his equipment on the ground. you were on your knees at the foot of your bed, your hands skating up his gorgeous torso, still not over how insanely lucky you felt to have been found by possibly the most perfect man in existence.

then, when he shoved his pants down his hips and his undergarments went with it, you were absolutely positive he was the most perfect man in existence.

his member was hot and heavy, and you had to swallow to stop yourself from drooling onto yourself as you sat back. you reached for it, and seungcheol hissed at the contact as your fingers wrapped around the shaft. his lips chased yours, hips inadvertently thrusting into your hand while he kicked off his boots. when he stopped, so did you, and his eyes opened to look your face up and down.

"princess, this would likely be punishable by death if i were any other knight."

you knew he was right, but you now knew that the two of you held all the cards. the tiniest detail he had implied - only punishable if he were any other knight. your father liked him. and he had saved his beautiful daughter and heiress to the throne. anything could happen from here, and you two would end up on top. you smiled, only enough for him to barely catch it as he caught his breath, then kissed him briefly. "let's make it worth while, then, shall we?"

seungcheol's stomach clenched at your words, his grip on your hips tight. he gave you a need filled kiss before flipping you onto your stomach, lifting your hips until your knees settled at an angle on either side of his legs. he held himself at your entrance, gathering your leaking juices on the head of his already red hot cock as you moaned helplessly into your blankets, your full chest pushing into the mattress. your hand skated down to him, brushing over his fingers on your hip before he grabbed it and pushed your hand against your back. you whined, trying your hardest to push back onto him despite him holding you off.

"you'll hurt yourself, princess," seungcheol warned, eyebrows crinkling as he tried to stave off his want to snap full into your velvety cushioned walls, only dipping himself into you a centimeter at a time. you could only whine again, then gasped once when his full head popped into you.

"please, seungcheol, please please," you begged, tears threatening your eyes as they stinged with want. your fingernails dug into his hand. "i need you. all of it. please."

he groaned at your pleas, his hips jerking ever so slightly as you moaned in response. he let go of your hand to grip your hips with both hands, and you scrambled, using your newly recovered limb to push yourself back into his hips. you screamed into your blanket as seungcheol let out a choked moan, suddenly fully sheathed in your warmth. you were breathing heavily, mind swimming at the feeling of him stretching you out wide, and all the incredible places he was hitting. it hurt, slightly, but god it hurt good. he paused, praying to god he didn't cum just from the feeling of you around him - he needed this, and he needed a lot of it. he would never forgive himself for cutting it off early.

you were gasping as you pushed your palms into the bed, moving your body forward and pushing back again, really savoring the way his thick cock fit snugly in you, the way it fucked into a sweet spot you had never reached before. your babbling became less coherent as seungcheol recovered his ability to move, pulling you back into his thrusting hips with a pleasantly tight grip around your waist. he leaned forward over you, pinching at your nipples before letting one hand roam down your stomach to your core. you yelped, your elbows buckling as his finger brushed against your clit. you collapsed into the mattress, though he was holding your hips up to where his met them repeatedly, and you moaned, desperately trying to lift yourself off of your own face. his other hand pulled your hair away from your neck, gripping it in a loose ponytail as he kissed your shoulder blade.

"you're the most perfect thing i've ever seen," seungcheol said breathlessly. "the most perfect thing i've ever felt."

you pressed your neck into the blanket, desperately twisting and trying to see him as you were steadily climbing towards a second release. you wanted to say something equally as poetic and sensual, but when his dark eyes found yours, and you moaned in the same moment, you had already said the most sensual thing you could have. and then, you swore you saw a dark smirk on his lips before they hungrily mouthed at yours.

you squirmed beneath him gasping and curling your toes as he pounded into you, the sound of his hips against your ass echoing off the far wall vaguely. your release came fast and hard, the same way he fucked you through it, and seungcheol used every ounce of discipline he had to keep himself away from ending this as you pleaded for him to cum with you, voice cracking as he snapped into you.

you were somewhere between babbling and crying, your vision blurred from a combination of the way his cock felt like heaven and the moisture that had accumulated in your eyes from the orgasm, and your hand grasped at his as it clumsily rubbed against your nearly spent clit. you laced your fingers with his, pulling it up to your breast, and he rolled a nipple between a finger and a thumb until you were pushing yourself back onto him again, desperate for more of what only he could give you.

you could only gasp when he pulled from you completely, your pussy aching as it stopped accommodating for seungcheol's considerable girth. your hands gripped at his shoulders as he rolled you over again, and you easily aided him in repositioning you on the bed, giving him ample space to toss you around as much as he wanted.

you attached your lips to his neck, starting to crave him deep in you again, if only he would just let go. you wanted to feel him chase after his high with no concern for you. you needed to feel his cum stain your walls. your open mouthed kisses down his pulse as you begged for him to just lose himself in you, and god did that sound delightful, but he didn't want to be done yet.

his still slick cock bumped into your clit, making you squeal against his shoulder, biting down briefly. his arm nearly buckled, and you registered the reaction just in time to bite down on his pulse as he pushed into you again.

with his knees on either side of your hips, he was curled over you, pulling your thighs down to sink you onto his cock. you wiped at his hair, slick with sweat now, and you imagined how lovely he would look in your mosaic wash tub in the room behind your bed, lit by the moonlight streaming through the window as you sat on his lap, taking in as much of him as you were now. you hoped he would be okay with staying long enough to fulfill some of your wandering youthful fantasies. his lips landed on yours again as you gripped at his hair, noises falling out of you as he split you in half.

he sat up, making his member curve into you addictively, and your back arched slightly in reaction. he ran his hands up your torso, curving around your breasts, playing with your nipples, rolling his hips gently into yours as you let out some of the most explicit and seductive moans seungcheol could have ever hoped to hear. you rolled your hips over his and he grunted, brow twitching inwards as he stared down at you. you looked back up at him, then rolled them again, making him drop his head. you pulled a deep moan from him with another roll, and as you continued your motions, his cock bulging into all your pressure points, you were whining for release as he was letting out short gasps, brows knit together. he suddenly laced his fingers with yours, then pulled your hips onto his abruptly with his palm on your thigh, and you shook with pleasure as you felt hot rope after hot rope make a complete mess of your cunt, your walls pulling him deeper, cum seeping out around the dick that took up too much space in you.

"fuck," he groaned, wiping back his damp hair as your nails scraped down his chest. "i didn't want to cum."

your mouth was hanging open and your eyes were only half lidded, and seungcheol thought he had never seen a more appealing expression in his life. "i needed you to."

his soul returned to his body as your words sent a rush of arousal into his body again, and he briefly wondered if he would ever stop wanting to be in you. he pulled one of your hands from his chest to place too gentle kisses across your knuckles, and he pumped into you slowly, white streaks leaking out as his cock steadily refilled the space. he pulled out, using a hand on his cock to collect some of the leaking cum and pushing it back into you. you practically wailed, fingers digging into his thighs as your messy cunt pulsed around him.

"s-s-" you whined, the name unable to be vocalised as he pumped deeper into you. "sss- s-!"

"yes, princess," he panted, a hand wrapping gently around your throat. despite there being no pressure, the warmth of his hand on you made you groan. his voice was low and harsh, like gravel. "am i serving you well?"

"s-sir," you gasped, finding the title easier to force out than his name in that moment. "i'm-m gon- god, s-seungcheol, i'm gonna-"

the hand on your throat slipped between your neck and the plush pillow, lifting your face up to be directly under his, and you watched him glower at you with a gap between your lips. "then cum, baby."

and with his chocolate eyes on yours, you quaked below him, clawing at his back and squeezing him tight. soon his lips were a comforting presence on yours, and your toes curled aimlessly with the backdrop of your ceiling as your face burned red, embarrassed by his ability to egg you on so successfully.

"you are incredible," seungcheol said finally, kissing at your squeezed shut eyelids. "how lucky am i that you saw something in me."

your eyes opened slowly, heat still radiating off your cheeks from your orgasm. "sir seungcheol, i think we may have been destined to cross paths."

he thought of the brief time you had danced with him at festival. the reason he dreamt of being a knight. the way your father took favor of him. the way his entire adolescence had been spent training to rescue you. perhaps, he thought. perhaps you were right.

and whether you were or not, when his lips met yours again and his hand caressed your cheek, you were once again nothing but putty in his hands. his fingers felt like they were designed to specifically hold your body, and he was that much closer to believing you were his destiny.

[gospelofme]

A Normal Morning for Kix

The alarm blared that irritating beeping noise. He almost wished for Captain Rex to be yelling at him to get up again...almost. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to block out the sound, just three more minutes. He cracked an eyelid just enough to see if he could sleep in, both eyes opening suddenly when he saw the time. 0630. He scrambled out of bed and grabbed his robe as he quickly made his way to his kids rooms. He had meant to set the alarm for 0600 but had forgotten. You had already left for work, having taken an early morning shift to be able to get off that evening for Jesse’s game. You usually woke him up before leaving unless you were able to take the kids to school. Kix didn’t have to report until 0800. The kids had to be at school at 0730.

“Kids!! Get up, daddy overslept!” Kix announced, tying his robe shut and opening Jesse’s door. His son groaned as Kix turned the light on,

“Five more minutes.” He muttered into his pillow, Kix shook him awake.

“Sorry buddy, it’s already 6:30, you have to be there in an hour.” Kix said, lifting his son into a sitting position. Jesse moved at a snail’s pace, trudging to the refresher while Kix urged him along.

“Brush your teeth, I’ll wake Kaia.” Kix instructed, handing his son his toothbrush.

“Kaia, baby, it’s time to wake up.” Kix called as he walked into his daughter’s room, promptly tripping over a toy castle that was set up in the center of the room.

“Ouch, damn, sorry.” Kix muttered, not sure why he had said sorry. He cautiously walked over to Kaia’s bed, pulling back the sheer curtain of her canopy. His little princess was fast asleep, clutching that old taun-taun she had had since birth.

“Baby, come on, wake up.” He whispered, waking Kaia was different than waking Jesse. His son usually just moved slowly, but didn’t complain. Kaia could be a little troll sometimes. Today she smushed Kix’s cheeks with her hands as she looked at him sleepily.

“Daddy, sssshhhh, I’m in the middle of a good dream. It’s about you and mommy and mommy is kicking butt.” She murmured softly.

“Oh really? And what is daddy doing?” Kix asked, his voice slightly distorted from being smushed between two small hands. Kaia giggled. Kix urged her to get up, Kaia spotting the toppled castle as she walked towards the refresher.

“Oh no! You broke the witch’s house!! Now she’s going to curse you!” Kaia said matter-of-factly.

“Cool, cool, don’t forget to brush your back teeth okay.” He replied as he walked back towards the the master bedroom.

Louise, now 8 months old, was fast asleep in her bassinet. Kix gently leaned over his smallest child and brushed her cheek with a single finger. The baby stirred after a few moments, making an unhappy face.

“Sshh, sssh, it’s just me.” Kix soothed, his daughter’s face changing from nearly crying to a small grin. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, grabbing his finger with her tiny hand. She yawned.

“Oh that’s such a big yawn for a small baby.” Kix spoke with what you called his “baby voice”. He still denied he had such a thing, but often pointed out the faces you made when trying to get the older two to eat. Suddenly he heard the sound of the buzzer.

“Oh crap.” Kix said under his breath, scooping Louise up, and heading back to the refresher.

“Jesse, move! You’re blocking the mirror!”

“I need the mirror more than you!”

“WHY!? You don’t have any hair!!”

Jesse had buzzed his hair to look like his father’s, Kix figured he was just touching it up.

“Hey, are you two getting dressed soon?” He asked, walking into the space. Kaia was trying to brush her hair, but Jesse was trying to make sure he didn’t mess up his buzzcut. Kaia made an irritated noise and left to go get dressed.

“Come on buddy, you still need to eat breakfast.” Kix reminded Jesse. You had made this look so easy, but he felt like he would never master it. You had it down pat and everything moved like clockwork. One day he’d get the hang of this, maybe when Jesse and Kaia were in high school and he just had Louise to tend to.

“I want a lightening bolt like you dad, can you do one really quick.” Jesse said. Kix smirked and shifted Louise to one arm. Jesse handed him the buzzer and Kix carefully etched a lightening bolt into the side of his son’s buzzed hair.

“I can touch it up this evening okay, but it should be fine for now.” Kix said, Jesse smiled and checked out the new addition.

“Hurry buddy.” Kix gently ushered his son from the refresher. He brushed his own teeth back in the master bathroom, changing Louise and dressing her in a new dress. Padmè had purchased it when Louise was born and she was just now big enough to fit into it. He then got changed into his black bodysuit and armor, hearing bowls clinking on the counter in the kitchen.

As the kids ate their cereal, Kix coaxed Louise into taking a bottle of breast milk you had set aside for him.

“I know, it’s not the same.” He told the baby as she seemed unhappy at the fake nipple.

“Gross dad.” Kaia said.

“What? This is how you ate!” Kix teased her. Kaia made a face. Jesse finished his cereal and set his bowl in the sink.

“Ahem.” Kix gave him a look. Jesse rolled his eyes and put it into the dishwasher instead.

“Thank you. Could you finish feeding your sister please.” Kix asked, Jesse nodding and taking the bottle and baby from Kix. His son enjoyed feeding Lousie and she seemed to eat better for him. Kix grabbed a hair brush from the sofa, taking a seat on a couch cushion. He looked over at Kaia and gestured for her to come over. She hurried over to him and sat down between his legs. Kix then got to work brushing out Kaia’s hair. She hadn’t quite finished the task since she had been blocked from the mirror and had to get dressed. As he brushed the tangles from the end of her hair, he worked his way up the long strands. His daughter hadn’t cut her hair besides an occasional trim. She wanted it long, like her mothers. Kaia hooked her arm around her father’s armored leg. Most kids wouldn’t find hard plastoid comforting, but she did. She had fallen asleep on his armor many times, as a baby it was one of the ways to get her to fall asleep.

“What do you want in it?” Kix asked.

“A French braid please daddy.” Kaia replied after a moment. Kix had always been good a braiding hair. You were pretty good at it, but Kix seemed to master complicated styles easily. You had chalked that up to his quick learning abilities. With Kaia’s hair perfectly French braided, all three kids were secured in the speeder, which pulled up to Coruscant Primary with just 5 minutes to spare.

Not bad, Kix thought to himself.

“OH! Dad can you sign this!!” Jesse shoved a piece of flimsi and a pen in Kix’s face.

“What is this?” Kix asked, trying to read the wording as Jesse flailed it in his face.

“A permission slip so i don’t have to dissect a Nuna.” Jesse shrugged.

“Okay, fine.” Kix signed the paper and prayed that’s what it actually was.

“Oh, sign mine too daddy!” Kaia said, producing her slip.

“So you don’t have to dissect a Nuna?”

“No, so i can dissect the Nuna!”

“Oh, cool!” Kix signed his name again. He had to admit he enjoying being able to sign his first and last name to documents.

Once the kids were in the building, Kix headed to the base and dropped Louise off at the daycare center. The women in the infants room always cooed over Lousie, and he couldn’t blame them. Lousie was the cutest baby in the joint. He always had a hard time leaving her though, wishing he could take her with him to work. But a hospital or training was no place for a baby, even if he was pretty sure General Skywalker wouldn’t mind.

“I’ll be back to check on her in two hours and the wife will be here around lunch time.” Kix said as he left. He paused at the door, hurried back over to his small infant and scooped her up. He gave her small cheek a raspberry, the baby breaking into a heavy laugh. All the woman “awwwed” at the same time, but Kix only had ears for Lousie’s laugh.

“Okay, that’s all i needed to hear. Two hours!” Kix said, heading out the door, putting his helmet on.

Tag List

@simping-for-fives @leias-left-hair-bun @jgvfhl @nelba @baby-queen-zen @halzore @escapedthesarlacc

[unstoppableforcce]

golden

CHAPTER ONE: simplicity

pairing: Poe Dameron x oc! Anya

next part | masterlist | oc art

a/n: this is set before the Force Awakens and is a rewrite and expansion of one of my first fics. it’s a big one, this part is 6.7k which might be the longest thing i’ve ever written lol, but i love my oc and the relationships and the plot of this, i hope yall do too bc i can’t wait to write more!!! 

He had forgotten how beautiful the galaxy could be. 

Before him, through the clear windshield of the dilapidated transport ship, laid an expanse of towering mountains of green, thick like the jungles of Yavin IV he knew so well, and vast like the breath of the galaxy he was only beginning to familiarize himself with. In the valleys that sat between the intimidating heights of the jungle were ponds and lakes, illuminated by the contrast of their soft pink hue and the sunlight from three suns beating down on them overhead. And within each jaw-dropping landscape they flew over, the lanky jungle trees stretched high and interwoven with each other and the depths of the gentle pink lakes, he caught glimpses of the hidden civilization. 

Stone buildings of dark brown granite hidden beneath the twisted green vines and thick, overgrown tree trunks, windows of reflective glass cascading like waterfalls built back into the shape of the mountains. From as high as they were, flying above in the shaky transport ship, he could make out the movement of the people through the trees and on wooden crescent boats out in the milky pink water of the lake, working as the suns bore down on their backs. 

Flying in his X-wing, he had mission objectives and responsibilities. He travelled from point A to point B and never lingered in one place for longer than he needed to, not with the First Order patrols cracking down across the galaxy. He couldn’t remember the last time he had travelled so slow, the last time he got to truly see the colors of the universe around him which normally passed in hyperspeed blurs. 

He had forgotten how beautiful the galaxy could be. 

“Wow…” the awe fell from his lips unconsciously as his eyes stayed wide, scanning the horizon not only out of necessity given their flight path, but because he couldn’t look anywhere else. The D’Qar jungle was said to be beautiful, as beautiful as this, but for the past months he had been tasked with growing their new base there, he saw the inside of buildings and the burn of haunting fluorescent lights more than he did the real greenery and sunlight. 

It was… breathtaking to say the least. 

“I thought I misremembered,” the calm and collected voice of the General sounded off over his shoulder as he slowed his speed to navigate a lofty bit of cloud cover that surrounded the tops of the mountainous valleys he navigated between. “I convinced myself somehow that no place in the galaxy could be as beautiful as I remembered but I was wrong.”

He couldn’t blame her. If he wasn’t seeing it with his own eyes as his hands gripped tight to the controls of the ship, he wasn’t sure he would have believed it either. 

Waterfalls of the lightest pink hue, the sparkling of the natural granite deposits in the rock which shined equally as bright as the city construction as they continued over it, the polished rock made into skyscrapers which rivaled the surrounding mountains in height, the natural overgrowth of green vines and thick canopy tree tops… the more he saw, the more Poe found himself overwhelmed by the beauty. 

“How far until the palace?” He hummed with a brief quirk of his jaw back over his shoulder to Leia as his eyes stayed trained on the intricate habitational design and fields woven between towering structures which shadowed over smaller homes which led to more fields and rivers, rocks and jungle. 

“Not far, it’s impossible to miss.”

It hadn’t made sense at that moment, but he refrained from asking her to expand, trusting that whatever she meant would be clear to him as they kept going. Within the following minute, his trust proved itself. 

The nose of the ship lifted slightly to get them over a particularly tall mountain top, and as the clouds cleared away while he nosed back into the valley below, he found the most gorgeous architectural and natural displays he had ever laid his eyes on. Built, like the hidden structures he had seen earlier, into the most commanding mountain of sparkling brown granite in the landscape before him, the palace was a delicate, yet proud masterpiece with spires as high as the clouds and a bustling marketplace pouring out the front of it, spilling towards the shore of the pink ocean before it. 

Banners of colors brighter than he even knew existed fluttered in the wind coming in off the coast throughout the marketplace, and as he brought the ship in to a stop at the surrounding rim of the mountain above the palace’s top spires where all the other ships sat, he began to notice the vibrant crowd which flowed from the boats in the water all the way through the palace gates. He loved his home with all his heart, but this was the most beautiful place in the galaxy. It had to be. 

He and Leia quickly unloaded from the non-descript ship, and Poe made sure to leave his blaster secure in the cockpit as Leia had instructed him earlier, taking only his jacket and communicator with him. A jacket he quickly realized he would not be needing as the two of them stepped out amongst the ships atop the mountain and felt the overwhelming heat from the suns above them. 

“Don’t be too in awe, we are here for a reason.” He glanced back from where he stood near the edge of the flattened mountain top to see Leia stood as regal as ever with her hands linked behind her back and her stare that of a careful mother. “An important reason,” she minded once more and he had no choice but to nod. 

As he reluctantly pulled away from teh edge and joined her at her side while they drew closer to the nearby lift and the mindlessly chatting guards stood around it, he couldn’t help but voice the one thought he couldn’t get out of his mind,“I can’t imagine a place like this ever allying with the First Order.” 

With a voice lowered closer to that of a whisper while they passed the guards, Leia carefully minded him again, “There is a complicated history to Haiki, as beautiful as it is.”

“All the briefing memo said was that they were great allies during the war, pacifists, but great allies.” He responded in an equally hushed tone until the doors to their lift shut and they began descending deep into the dark, sparkling rock. “You said their leader was a friend.”

“Their King and Queen were friends of mine while I was still living on Alderaan and fighting with the rebellion, unfortunately the queen died shortly after the Empire fell and their king has been sick for almost as long.” She explained as the thick walls of granite passed quickly by them as they continued to descend. 

“Who are we here to meet with then?”

The lift came to a stop at the bottom and the doors opened to a dense crowd of people, all dressed in vibrant colors of thick woven fabric, skin decorated with thick strokes of black ink in intricate designs that varied from body to body. But as much as Poe wished to step forward and immerse himself into the lively crowd of the market, Leia’s firm grip on the elbow of his jacket pulled him in the opposite direction, towards an open doorway outlined by beautiful branches and bright flowers as her words quickly pulled him back to the reality of their mission there. 

“We’re meeting with the Princess,” Leia answered as they continued down the hall illuminated by windows which brought cascades of bright light into the halls as they travelled in a direction which seemed to Poe as if it were going deeper into the rock of the mountain. “I’ve met her before, but she was young, now she runs the whole planet and, from what I can tell, is not as eager about our alliance as her parents were.”

“You think she’s fielding threats from the First Order? You said they were pacifists--”

“It’s not about weapons or defense, it’s about supplies.” Leia sighed as the two of them came to a halt in the middle of the hallway, allowing the few locals who were walking behind them to pass in front and leave them alone with the bright sunlight. “We need their support, the medicine they create, the food they grow… If we don’t get it, I don’t know how much longer we can survive.”

Poe nodded, his overgrown curls bouncing with the nod of his head as he glanced around the empty hall and began pulling his jacket off his already sweat-slicked back. 

He knew they were there for support, but the briefing memo had been vague on purpose. No one else could know they were there, no one could know why they were there. If there was a leak, if the First Order somehow found out that the Resistance was reliant on Hakian support to survive, they’d decimate the entire planet, strip mine them for their resources and slaughter their peaceful population. 

He trusted their people, and he knew Leia did too, but he also understood why he had to be kept in the dark until now. This was just too important. 

“When we get in to see her, you’ll call her only ‘princess’ or ‘dekka’, never by her first name unless she gives you permission. And make sure you keep your distance, be respectful,” Leia warned as they slowly began walking again, turning a corner and entering another well-lit hall still travelling deeper into the mountain it seemed. “They are sticklers for tradition here and we can’t afford to play around.”

“What does ‘dekka’ mean?” 

“Respected one.” She answered quickly, keeping her voice close to him as another person came into view at the end of the hall. 

The man towered just like the mountains they flew through did, taller than any human man Poe had seen in person, nearly wookie height if he was being honest. But there was nothing intimidating about him, he merely flashed a bright smile and opened his arms in a welcoming stance. 

“Princess Leia, it is an honor to see you again.” The man bellowed out, meeting them at the end of the hall where it let out into a gorgeous room of tall ceilings and windows that stretched from the polished granite floor all the way up to the tallest rafters of twisted vine and tree root, letting in an electric amount of natural light. 

Leia quickly unlinked her hands from behind her back and wrapped them around the man, who stood at nearly twice her height, in a solid embrace. “Elias, it’s an honor to see you as well.”

“I had no idea you were coming, whatever can I help you with?” His thick accent continued to cut through the air, louder than Leia could muster by several dozen decibels. His command over the basic language wasn’t too strong, but he certainly made up for his shortcomings with heart and confidence.

However, no amount of strength of heart could overwrite the confusion outlined by his words, leaving an unsettling feeling in Poe’s gut. Judging by the slight deflation in Leia’s commanding stance, it was clear he wasn’t the only one. 

“No idea…” Leia chuckled nervously, trailing off with a brief shake of her braids. “We were meant to meet with Dekka Anya-Va, is she not here?”

Elias’ chuckle was equally as unsettled, something was wrong. 

“She hasn’t been in all day,” he added as another rough chuckle escaped his lips, “I didn’t know she had schedule, she didn’t tell me…”

Seven hours. That’s how far away Haiki was from D’Qar when travelling as fast as possible in the only non-resistance ship available, an old, deteriorating transport ship. He spent seven hours behind the controls on a trembling, shaking ship, and the Princess they were supposed to be meeting with to secure necessary supplies for the resistance was not there? Was this some kind of joke?

If it was, he didn’t find it very funny. 

Leia glanced back over her shoulder, finding the waiting confusion that covered Poe’s face and turned back to Elias wearing a very similar look. “She hasn’t been in at all?”

“She’s been… cutting me off, isolating herself from her advisors… I don’t know…” He stuttered over each and every word, clearly pulling them from a particularly painful place in his chest. 

And on any other day, Poe might have cared about the way the towering man’s intimidating voice trembled in his explanation. The overwhelmingly empathetic heart that beat steadily in his chest was accustomed to feeling for anyone from anywhere across the galaxy, but in this moment, the weight of the resistance was too apparent on his shoulders. 

If Leia said they needed this Princess to save the resistance, then that was that. They needed this Princess, and hearing that she was circumventing her advisors as much as she was avoiding their meeting only increased the nerves in his unsettled stomach. 

“You are welcome to wait for her in the throne room, I will send her your way whenever I find her…” Elias made a desperate attempt to relight the smile that had fallen from Leia’s diplomatic lips, but it only succeeded somewhat, as much as Leia could muster, feeling the same weight that Poe felt sitting heavy on her shoulders. 

“Thank you, Elias.” Leia bowed her head, and Elias quickly did the same. 

But the second Leia turned away from him and began nudging Poe back in the direction they came from, her diplomatic disposition fell away, returning her harsh, commanding stare. 

“She’s avoiding us?” Poe was quick to question as their pace hastened back down the brightly illuminated halls leading back to the busy marketplace. 

Leia shook her head, keeping her voice low as the two of them walked, shoulder to shoulder. “Remember when you asked if I thought she was fielding First Order threats already? I think we just got our answer.”

“What do we do?”

As the two of them entered back out into the dense crowd of the marketplace, Leia gave a brief shrug, still tugging him along with her as she fought against the flow of tattooed people. “Now, we have to find her.”

“Do you know where to look?”

The stare Leia gave him was one he was all too familiar with. It was the same look he got when he asked questions about procedure he already knew the answer to, the same look he got when he asked questions he knew she wouldn’t answer. It was a look that meant one thing. The simplest answer, the easier answer, the obvious one that was punching him directly in the face, was the answer he should be looking for. 

And with Leia, when it came to asking if she knew anything, the answer was without a doubt, a resounding ‘yes’. 

Following the banners, each one a color more vibrant than the last, Leia continued to push him through the marketplace. As they exited the front gate of the palace, the market grew impossibly larger and the crowd more dense, every soul moving with a specific purpose, from stall to stall with shoulders carrying heavy bags and faces bright with electric smiles. 

Poe couldn’t remember the last time he saw so many smiles in such a densely packed region.

The sun was beating down hot on his back, slicking his curls to his forehead in a light coating of sweat, but everyone around him seemed oblivious to it, either too distracted by the spices piled high in the booths, wafting a plethora of new scents around the beautiful square, or the swaths of fabrics covered in intricate stitches and designs. Was this what life was like where the war didn’t touch? 

People could walk around, fully immersed in their own vibrant culture wearing smiles brighter than the multiple suns which hung above them, seemingly without a care in the world when it came to the slaughtering and genocide happening around the galaxy at the hands of the First Order? Did they even know? 

Did the parents who let their kids run around with tightly woven baskets piled high with spiky blue fruit even know about the children across the galaxy who were stolen from their families and conscripted as nameless troopers? Did the elderly who sat off to the side even know that just last week, a village of respected elders on Nantoo were mowed down indiscriminately by First Order officers looking to set up base on their sacred land? Did any of them even know about the war?

If he lived here, maybe he could understand it. Maybe… 

But Stars, was ignorance really bliss when millions were being slaughtered? 

“I knew she’d be here…” Leia sighed, pulling Poe’s attention back to her pursuit as the market began to thin out closer to the pink translucent shore packed with crescent shaped boats of dark wood unloading at the docks. He didn’t know where to let his stare fall however, the water immediately took his attention, but as Leia kept walking, he fought to both find her stare and follow it in the same direction. 

The shore wasn’t packed, but there were just enough bodies to keep him guessing even as he followed Leia’s focus. Where was she looking--

He found her.

Nothing had changed, he still didn’t know exactly where Leia’s stare was directed nor did he have any verbal confirmation that he was looking in the right direction, but he was sure of himself, overwhelmingly sure of himself as his stare landed on the detailed tattoos that covered the back of the lone woman sat on the damp shore, isolated from the crowd. 

The thin interwoven fabric of the maroon dress that cascaded down her form was exquisite in it’s intricately stitched details, but nothing compared to the thick, jet black ink stripes that crested over her back and arms, the extent of the skin he could see from the angle they were approaching with. Everyone he had seen so far on this planet had some form of similar markings, be it extensive designs sprawling up their arms or small delicate images drawn on their hands or necks, but none compared to what he saw on her skin. 

It was like the dark ink was woven around her, like a vine crawling it’s way up a tree. Or maybe more aptly, it was a web, drawn by a diligent insect or maybe even claw marks from a creature, thick where the wounds ran the deepest and thin at the start and ends of each mark. 

Haiku itself was one of the most beautiful planets in the galaxy, but the woman before him was more beautiful than even that. 

It took an elbow in the side from Leia to snap him back to reality. 

“Why don’t you let me do most of the talking, yeah?” She countered, a knowing quirk to her brow as she nudged him again with her elbow. 

He wanted to argue back but Leia had already begun walking ahead of him and the second he moved to catch up, a large guard stepped up to block their path. 

This man was tall, like Elias back in the palace was, but he didn’t wear his intimidating height the same way. He was much broader in the shoulders, much wider in his stance, effectively blocking any line of sight either Poe or Leia had towards the princess. Yet unlike Elias, there was no friendly greeting, no real acknowledgement at all besides his narrowed scowl down towards the two of them. 

For a planet of self-proclaimed pacifists, Poe wasn’t really feeling at peace. 

Not until the soft hum of her voice flowed in from the gentle lull of the shore. “It’s alright, Xia, let them through.”

The wall of a man quickly stepped aside on her orders, revealing the exhausted collapse of her shoulders while she began to pull herself back up to her feet. The languid pull of her muscles was obvious with the delicate cut of the maroon dress across her skin, which contrasted the blood color of the fabric with a dark brown glow, not unlike the sparkle of the magnificent granite mountains under the overhead suns. 

“Dekka Anya-Va…” Leia addressed carefully but was quickly cut off by the return of her coarse hum of a voice. 

“I was hoping by not being at the palace that you would get the impression I didn’t want to meet with you,” her accent was thick, much like Elias’s but her comfort with the language was much more evident as it flowed much smoother from her lips despite the natural raspiness to her tone. It was a mesmerizing sound, complemented by the dulcet tone of the gentle waves, making it something he could easily get lost in if it wasn’t for his ability to still hear the words for what they were. 

Condescending. Nearly mocking if he was being honest. It just didn’t sit well with him, not when directed towards Leia. 

“We got the impression, we just ignored it,” Leia countered, pushing her careful tone to the side in favor of the tone she used when addressing her Commanders, a tone that commanded respect, even if the Princess seemed too aloof to provide it. 

She let out a rugged chuckle at that, jagged at the edges where it seemed to have fought through her throat and out from her perfectly shaped lips. “We…” she hummed, “I wasn’t aware you were bringing friends.”

The pointed tips of her words were sent like daggers with her stare as she turned from Leia to where Poe stood right beside her, hands linked behind his back and still holding his jacket in a tight grip. But as personal an assault it seemed, when he opened his lips to respond, Leia was quick to cut him off. 

“I--”

“This is my pilot, Commander Dameron.”

As unamused as the princess seemed to be, she still did a lot of stone-faced laughter, and that theme held true as her stare held on Poe’s furrowed and focused face. “Does the Commander have a first name?”

With a quick glance to Leia, then back to the Princess, he finally spoke for himself, answering “Poe,” simply. 

He didn’t know what he thought throwing his name into the conversation would add, but he couldn’t determine any reason why not to add it, not until the Princess turned her stare back to Leia and shuddered her shoulders back into a steady stance with her chin raised. “Would you mind telling Poe he can go wait by your ship, I don’t imagine it will be a long conversation.”

There it was again. Aloof, condescending, mocking even. Poe couldn’t stand it. 

“Excuse me--”

“Actually, Dekka Va, I brought him so he could join our talks,” Leia explained, one of her hands shooting up quickly to keep him in place by her side as she felt the heat of his temper rise with her words. 

“He doesn’t seem like he’d be much for conversation.”

He realized his natural disposition may not have been the most diplomatic, he also realized that hot-headed and cocky weren’t necessarily the best qualities for negotiating delicate alliances, but if she was allowed to talk to him with the tone she was taking, he was having a hard time understanding why Leia was keeping him silent. Why even bring him along?

It was infuriating. She was infuriating. She wouldn’t meet them in the palace, she was hiding on the beach, she was biting back with each and every one of her responses. He understood the alliance between her planet and the resistance was important, he really did, but why in the kriff was he even there--

“Dekka Anya-Va, I assure you, Poe is one of my most trusted Commanders and when our discussion eventually turns to shipment methods, he is the only one I trust for routes and numbers--” Leia began, still holding her hand out carefully in front of Poe only to drop it the second the Princess shrugged her shoulders and cut her off the same way she had been cutting Poe off. 

“There will be no shipment discussions.”

“Dekka--”

“I apologize for avoiding the meeting, but it wasn’t accidental, I truly have no interest in meeting with you, General.” She continued, using the brief second they stood silent and frozen in shock to navigate around them and back towards the market. 

Leia was the first to break out of it, Poe trailing behind, but he still remained quiet, holding back his boiling temper as the General continued to argue. 

“It’s a rather important conversation that we need to have.”

The princess continued forward as if she barely noticed them following, and as the density of the market's population began to increase the closer they moved to the palace, she made no move to slow her careful and practiced step through the crowd to accommodate their trailing. Again, condescending and aloof.

Leia broke his train of thought again as she fought with a quickened pace to find her way to her side and continue her argument just within range of Poe’s ears. “A face-to-face meeting will allow us to discuss our deal more intimately, take away any fears you may have and--”

If she cut Leia off one more time, it wouldn’t matter that she was the most respected being on this planet, Poe wasn’t going to be able to keep quiet for much longer. 

“I’m not afraid of anything, General.”

Before either Leia or Poe, with his temper steadily boiling over, could mount another argument, the princess pulled one of her guards aside, retrieving a small pouch of golden coins from him and turning back to the stall that had caught her eye in the first place. It was the stall they had passed earlier, filled with children and the spiky blue fruits which had caught his eye as he thought about the rest of the galaxy. 

And it was exactly where the princess was kneeling down. 

Her rough tone of voice, coated in it’s natural raspiness, flowed out much easier in her native tongue as she let a genuine smile take over her lips. The kids running the booth were bouncing out of their boots as she lowered herself to their level, and their excitement only grew as they began talking to one another in the Hakian language. It would have been heartwarming if Poe weren’t so frustrated. 

He didn’t understand what they were saying and it was clear as he glanced toward Leia and saw her focused brow that she didn’t understand the words being spoken either, but from the shared interactions, he had a pretty decent idea what was transpiring. 

She asked a question, the kids nervously responded, shaking their heads and trying to offer their product for free before she convinced them to accept her coin. Again, a heartwarming display that he didn’t have time for. 

The sun was hot, boiling hot down the back of his neck, and the anger bubbling from within his chest was heating him up from the inside out, making the whole experience ten times worse. He didn’t need to see any heartwarming display, he needed to say something, and he was becoming increasingly overwhelmed with the feeling that when he did, things wouldn’t go well. 

Yet the moment seemed to be drawing closer and closer as the Princess stood back to full height with a bag full of the spiky fruit, passing her coins back to her guard. He was ready to open his mouth, to unload on her with the same hot-headed cockiness that Leia feared he would lead with, but he was again denied the chance as she silenced him by turning her back to the two of them and reentering the crowd, heading back towards the palace. 

It wasn’t until they were down an isolated hallway of the palace that she turned back, opening the bag of fruit and pulling three of the spiked fruit out easily. 

“Dekka--” Leia tried, but the princess silenced her, sticking one of the fruits into her hand before carelessly tossing one in Poe’s direction. 

She was making a point, and they had no choice but to stand there and take it. 

“This is Mewe, one of our planet’s sweetest fruits,” she hummed, holding up one of her own and turning it gently for them to admire even if all Poe could manage was a subtle roll of his eyes. “They cannot grow anywhere else, they require massive amounts of sunlight, and they are one of the most versatile fruits that exist anywhere in the galaxy, edible on their own, full of health, easily fermented, their juice can soothe sore throats and upset stomachs...”

Puncturing the tough, spiky skin with one of her nails, the vibrant teal juices began to drain quickly out of the shell, too quick for even her quick mouth to catch as she brought the fruit to her lips. The following bite she took was effortless following her brief struggle with the dripping juices, and as much as Poe hated whatever point she was trying to make with this display, as Leia followed her lead and took a bite, he had no choice but to do the same. 

And as desperate as he was to stay boiling with anger when he looked at her, even with teal juices dripping down around the corner of her mouth, his mind was flooded with a delicious distraction the second his tongue touched the inner meat of the vibrant fruit. It wasn’t enough for Haiki to be the most beautiful planet in the galaxy, nor was it enough for her to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in person, they also needed to have the most overwhelming natural fruits. 

Each hesitant chew he took sparked flavors across his tongue, wild, exotic, unlike anything he had ever tasted before. It wasn’t just that his diet had consisted of bland ration packs for the past few years, the taste was truly sweeter and more complex than anything he had ever had on his tongue. 

As much as he hated giving her the satisfaction, while he looked up from the greenish inside of the skin to find her careful stare, he could see that he was doing little to hide his overwhelming satisfaction with the flavor given her increasingly smug smirk. 

“Haiki is a special place, I don’t think you realize that.” The Princess continued carefully, shifting her stare back to Leia directly. 

“We do, Dekka, however--”

“I don’t think you do.” She was quick to counter. “You would have me pledge my sponsorship to your futile movement and sacrifice my planet and the millions of souls who live here to the wrath of the First Order with nothing to offer me in return. You must think my planet worthless.”

Leia shook her head, taking a brief second to swallow the rest of the fruit she held in her mouth and regain her composure in order to fight back, “We can offer your planet protection from the First Order--”

“Because that worked so well for Alderaan, Raysho, Cardota and Courtsilius?” Again, the princess, without hesitation, cut her off. And this time, Poe was done holding his tongue, the heat finally sending his anger boiling over. 

“And pledging your allegiance to a sociopathic regime of murderers is preferable?”

It was exactly what Leia had feared. It was the exact reason she had tried so hard to keep him quiet. Not because she feared he would shoot and miss, but because of his tone. 

Each word drenched in a level of disrespect he hadn’t earned with her, stepping over a line he didn’t even realize, but one Leia couldn’t help him back from, even as she reached up to grab hold of him to prevent his anger from carrying him closer to the Princess and making things worse. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my planet.” She held her stance even as Poe stepped up, making no move but the slight uptick of her chin as he got closer. “As a peaceful planet, we have no options to arm ourselves outside of diplomacy and the First Order is being far more convincing.”

“Whatever they’ve said is lies, you can’t seriously consider trusting them.” He spoke like a man with no knowledge of his actions, entirely oblivious to the way her guard tightened their stances the closer he got, too blinded by his anger as she continued to argue back against him. 

“Because the resistance has never lied to us? Because you can be trusted implicitly on your word?”

With another step forward, eliminating any space between the two of them, Poe effectively cut Leia and her futile attempts to get him to back down out of the conversation. “What have they promised you? Safety? Isolation from the war? It’s only a matter of time before they are enslaving your people and stealing your resources--”

“They’ve promised me protection and have been nothing but cordial, unlike you and your failing resistance.” She scoffed, shaking her small bun of greying hair enough to let loose a few strands as she refused to back down. “So you’d do best to mind yourself before you overstep a boundary you can’t walk back from.”

There was a sense of finality to her tone as she ended her sentence, one Leia picked up on immediately, but even as she moved to grab more forcefully at Poe’s arm to pull him back to reality, he continued to fight his way out of it. Hot-headed, stubborn, cocky. She should have known better than to bring him along. She should have known things would go the way they were going. 

“You want me to play nice? People are dying.” 

Everything that happened next happened all too fast. The words came spewing from Poe’s lips and as the Princess turned away, no longer requiring herself to be subject to his cruel intonation, he reached out and grabbed her arm before he could be stopped. 

In the back of his mind, he could still hear the echoing warning Leia had provided him, telling him to keep his distance and speak with nothing but respect, but the flashes of war echoing in his head and the fire burning in his chest were crackling too loud for anything else to matter. A part of him knew it was out of line, that same part of him was begging for him to stop, and yet his hand still found the smooth, tattooed skin of her forearm, holding her in place as she moved to turn away in frustration. 

Leia took a strong hold on the sweat-soaked back of his shirt and yanked him back, but the damage had already been done. “Stand down, Dameron,” she tried out but by the time he released her arm, the guards had already descended upon him, gripping him by each arm and kicking the backs of his legs in to drop him to his knees. 

“I think the damage has been done, General.” Her voice was firm in her resolve and equally firm as her language switched and her tongue released a flurry of orders towards the guards who held the stubborn, fighting Dameron on his knees. 

“What the kriff-- I barely touched her--” He fought as their grips grew tighter, forcing him frozen where they held him. 

Leia tried again, this time not to hold Poe back but to carefully convince the princess, “Dekka Anya-Va, please…”

But her mind was made up and nothing either of them could do would change that. 

“We’ll let him think himself over with a sleep in our cells,” she explained to Leia as her stare then fell back to the squirming form of the curly haired and now defenseless pilot. “You can leave with him in the morning.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“No, but it seems you might be.” The rough, raspiness to her tone which had been so distracting as it filtered out her accent shifted to something nearly playful, as if the whole display before her was amusing. He was being restrained by a towering guard of thick muscle on each side and she had the audacity to chuckle so plainly in his face, only making him fight more even if he knew it was futile. 

Leia stepped forward carefully towards the princess but before she could muster any last defense, the princess gave a wave of her hand and the guards, with shoulders wide in intimidating bulk, heaved the fighting pilot to his feet and began backing him up, dragging him in the opposite direction. 

“Dekka Anya-Va, let me apologize for his actions--”

“Mensha?” Her raspy voice interrupted the General before any real defense could leave her lips, ushering a young maid out from the small crowd which gathered around the display. “Please escort the General to a room where she can wait, give her anything she needs.”

“Dekka Anya-Va--”

“I’m not my mother, General, the sooner you learn that, the better for all of us involved.”

The long walk back into the depths of the granite palace was all too lonely as the Princess dismissed each and every member of her staff which approached her, even waving away the genuine concern on Elias’ brow and leaving him in the halls as she continued to the throne room. Her back was screaming out from the straight form she maintained with each and every step, but she held her stance and walked on, shoulders firm and chin up, just as she was taught. If anyone passed her, they had to see her as what she was, their leader. 

And leaders didn’t waver, no matter how strong the vacuum of emptiness swirling within their chest was, not when there were eyes to see. 

But the second the towering doors of intricate dark oak shut behind her, leaving her alone in the expansive and empty throne room, her shoulders fell in, collapsing her perfect form as her chin fell to her chest. The weight which settled there was too great, and the hollow gorge that tore through her heart was too powerful. 

Did he really think it was that easy?

Her throat burned with the heat rising out of her chest and her legs grew weaker with each step until she collapsed back against the exquisite throne of dark, sparkling granite consumed by overgrown vines, the words from the hot-headed pilot echoing through her mind, latching onto every thought. 

Did he think it was all that simple? Did he think she saw the blood on the hands of the First Order and so easily ignored it? Did he think it was that easy?

A sociopathic, murderous regime… did he really think she didn’t realize what they were? 

The bubbling in her gut continued on as her thoughts swarmed with a buzzing around her mind and her head fell forward into her hands where her elbows rested on her knees. Her fingers made furious circles of her temples but it made no difference, his words were there, haunting her mind and inescapable. 

Did they really think she didn’t know right from wrong? 

With the responsibility for millions of souls resting heavy on her back, the fate of her kind in her hands, it just wasn’t as easy as good versus bad. No matter how badly she wished it was. 

“Dekka Anya-Va,” the faint voice of one of her staffed maids entered her thoughts as the small woman carefully tiptoed into the room. “The prisoner is… angrily shouting for a meeting with you.”

Her back straightened on instinct, sending a shooting pain up her spine with the quick pace of the change. A pain she could barely mask with her regal tone as turned her stare towards the young woman, “we’ll leave him to calm himself down for now.”

“Of course, Dekka.”

As the door shut again, leaving her alone with her thoughts again, a sigh of insurmountable exhaustion fell from her lips and she collapsed back into the uncomfortable shape of stone. 

If only things could be that simple...

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