#so NOW with that event it means we will be ready for a new Percival unit.

[icharchivist]

godd i’m genuinely so happy about the Wales event, i’ve been wanting for it for years now and ever since Light Percival came out i knew it was looming on the horizon. 

And i’m so glad because while the wait was agonizing i do think Savior of Dalmore AND Strength to Wield did such a good job at building up Lamorak that now any reunion between the brothers will be satisfying in some shape or form, in a way it wouldn’t have been had they not built it up.

and i just can’t waittttt hhh

and people are already talking about playable Lamorak/Grand Percival and this has been my thoughts this whole time as well so i’m really hyped. I have 2 sparks and 2 Sierotickets so i’m genuinely ready now. Bring it on. Please.

[someoneyoucantstand]

Of Security in Memories

So I couldn’t get the new love of my life and the way he protected Squirrel out of my mind so I wrote this. (Also found on Ao3 if you could give it some love over there too)

OF SECURITY IN MEMORIES

He remembers vaguely that, in his previous life time, he had only ridden a horse a mere two times. Ash people had very little need for steed to the degree he’d imagine other clans had; they lived high up in the mountains, towering over towns and villages in private isolation. They had the freshest of water, collected from the beginning of the slipsteams at the top of the mountains so close to their homes, had caves to keep their slaughter from escaping, and could source warming sunlight for their own grains, meaning that only but a handful of men needed to be riders in order to journey to neighbouring towns for a renewal of medical supplies and some seedlings if the yield was less than expecting.

Nevertheless, the children of the ash folk took pleasure in trotting around the village on the large beasts, taking turns to ride or run alongside the animal, with an elder brother or doting mother leading the horse at a steady pace with a rope attached to its head reins.

The first experience he’d had on a horse was surrounded with humiliation, and was banished to the back of his mind with or without the teaching of the bible to cloud his memories. He had been young, maybe five or six years, when an older boy - whose face remained foggy on the rare occasion he thought back to his life before the brotherhood, preventing him from truly recalling who he was - had clapped him on the shoulder, declaring that it was his turn on the horse, before gripping him under the pits of his arms and hoisting him into the air and onto the leather saddle with a thump.

He had never been that high up before, and distracted himself with the view of his home from such a towering height. It was this distraction that left him vulnerable when suddenly the horse lurched forward without warning, leaving little time to steady himself and grip the reins, and instead left him toppling to the side and straight into the dirt.

The only vivid part of that memory was the chorus of laughter that erupted from his peers when he landed harshly on his arm, his cheek grazing the ground below. He remembered the horse stopping abruptly and the older boy's feet charging around him, pulling him to his own feet and brushing the mud from his trousers as he inspected for injury. The children laughed on heartedly, as if it was the most humorous thing they had witnessed in some time, and the older boy in front of him gave him non-injured cheek a warm tap before berating the children for their foolish laughter. Still, it was too late and he was already red in the face with embarrassment and vowed never to get back on such a foul creature.

Despite years of training and conditioning to the teachings of the Red Paladins, there is still one memory from his childhood he can recall as clear as a summer’s sky.

He had aged on in some years and was now possibly eight or nine years, but no more than that. True to his vow, he had never rode the horses again and had even avoided partaking in the chase behind the animal the other children led whilst waiting for their turn.

On this morning, however, the children were granted the opportunity to play on a new horse their village had taken in only weeks prior.

A tanned horse with a mane of black hair that looked as if to be shimmering in the spring sunlight; it was the finest creature he had ever seen in his small amount of years. Because of this, even he, who had sworn off the breed all those years prior, found himself trailing after the children to watch it in action. He recollects following the steed all morning and into the afternoon, watching its majestic legs prance around as children squealed with delight from atop its back. When children began being called back into their homes to complete this chore or that, the elder girl in charge began leading the horse back to the stable. He frowned at having to leave the horse, and went to retreat back to his mother - or what family he may have had; he had long forgotten aspects of such nature - when a familiar hand clapped his shoulder and steered him towards the girl.

“Rosalind,” the voice behind him spoke, “let me tie him back up for you, I would quite like to test his pace myself before he goes for his rest.”

The girl - Rosalind - had nodded and passed the horse over to the boy without question. She left and the boy with the face blocked by fogged memories crouched in front of him.

“Lance,” he spoke softly, “might we try you once more on horseback?” He imagined he must have nodded because the boy sprung upwards and mounted the horse with such elegance. A hand was extended down to him and he gripped it - it was soft, and warm, and felt so familiar in the back of his condemned mind - as he was lugged upwards and into saddle.

Like those years previous, he became distracted once more. This time it was not by the height advantage, but by the wonderful mane in front of him. He reached a single finger out to touch it, swapping to a whole hand once pleasantly surprised by the silky texture as he stroked it gently. Once again, the horse began swift movement without his knowledge, jolting him to the side, his body reddle to topple.

This time, however, he was met not with the roughness of the harsh ground below, but instead, a warm and strong weight wrapped around his stomach.

“Steady now, Lancelot.” A voice said close to his ear as the boy pressed to his back held him securely on the saddle. His chest heaved with slight panic as he looked down and, indeed, saw the boy’s arm embracing him, hand splayed across his stomach to keep him in place. He looked back and saw the boy grinning at him, tightening his arm for a moment in a sincere squeeze before relaxing and ripping the reins once again, “I have you, Lance. No need to fear.”

The memory stayed with him for all the passing years, he assumes, because it was the last time that he felt such a strong sense of security before a brotherhood of men donning red cloaks attacked at dawn some weeks later, burning his entire tribe and snatching him away until the pretence of redemption and messages from God.

Of course, one of the first things the Red Paladins did was make sure he knew how to ride a horse, for what good is a warrior that cannot lead his men into battle? It had been a slow process, one that was littered with bruised ribs from the swift kicks delivered to his chest whenever he panicked and took a fall, but in the end he rode with great talent and no longer feared he would take a tumble.

Still, he never felt that same sense of safety and security on horseback like he did back in that last moment of his childhood.

Until now, that is, in the present moment, when suddenly that memory of security returns to him abruptly, this time from the other perspective.

Feeling the burn of his injuries, he had been quite content with resting slightly on the back of the young fey in front of him, his arms reaching around him to lightly hold the reins, entrusting his trusty steed to get them to safety. He gave little thought to his charge and their riding skills, instead letting his mind be consumed by the transpiring events and the hot rush in his side that squelched with his own blood, until his horse tread over a particularly rocky part of path that left his charge unstable and falling to the side, ready to topple.

The child let out a cry of alarm and, instinctively, he surged forward and wrapped his arm around his small waist, pulling him into his chest, ignoring the flash of pain it sent up his injured side.

He breathed out a sigh of relief at the feeling of the child’s weight against his body, his bloody hand now being gripped by a smaller one. He felt that hand against his and thought back to the soft and warm hand that helped him onto his horse when he was no bigger than this child in his arms. This memory seemed to work of its own will, subconsciously leading to him presenting the child with the same sincere squeeze around the waist that he had been gifted a long time ago.

“What is your name, boy?” he had asked as they crossed the wastelands.

“Squirrel”, had been the reply and he couldn’t help but point out that “a squirrel is an animal. What name were you given?”

The child had not hesitated to say that “I don’t like that name,” but when met with the reply of “It’s still your name,” had presented the answer of “Fine. It’s Percival.”

“Percival.” He had replied in confirmation, but had not planned to speak the name again, instead wanting to keep as much emotional distance as he could.

And yet, as the child - Percival - sat himself straight again, he - “Lancelot”, he had to remind himself, for it had been so long, “my name is Lancelot.” - found that he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t relax completely.

Instead, Lancelot moved his hand just enough that he could reach to hold a rein in each without actually having to let go. He could still feel the heavy breathing of Percival, a mirror of his own such a long time ago, and chose instead to keep his arm loosely embracing him, his hand resting against his stomach similar to how a hand one once did for him, hoping to convey the same warmth and strength that had given him the security to feel safe enough to breathe again.

“I have you, Percival. No need to fear.”

[destroy-the-cannon]

Title Pending Olivia x MC Fic, Chapter two

Hellooo! I’d like to start off with a quick apology. I had a bunch of family drama this week, so I’m aware that this chapter is a bit lackluster. I swear  that it’s not just a lack of talent! That’s only like ten percent of the problem! Anyways, here it is! 

Warnings: Sexual language, cursing.

Story Tags: (Eventual) lemon, slow burn, enemies to lovers, angst.

Taglist: @kingliam2019 , @kamilahsayeet2063

“Woah.”

Maxwell was craning his neck to inspect Paige’s outfit from where she stood on the steps. It felt strangely like a grown-up prom, gliding down the stairwell with all eyes on her (well, Maxwell’s eyes). She gave a little twirl, showing off her devastatingly expensive gown. The gown she’d had to buy herself. You’d think that riding with a noble would mean that they’d be willing to shell out a dime or two, but alas, she’d spent her own damn money on this. Not that she was bitter or anything.

She’d gone with the angel outfit. A glittery, cold shouldered bodice gave way to heavy skirts of layered tulle and silk. A delicate lacey mask fit over her eyes, and a fluffy little halo floated above her head. She felt genuinely angelic, like she could float right around the room.

“Man, you look amazing! You’ll definitely get the ladies in court talking.”

It was the night of the first ball of the season. Just a day ago, Paige had hopped on a plane and flown out to Cordonia. She was staying in the palace with all the other nobles until the tour started up. They were set to move all around the country to the various duchies of the various suitors. In the meantime, Paige was staying in a fabulous room in the back of the palace she’d spent all last night marveling at. Now, she was marching down to the introductory ball with Maxwell by her side. It was a masquerade event, hence the angel outfit. She was set to make an excellent first impression, something that was crucial to building the flawless reputation she was determined to possess. According to Drake, she was about to walk into a room full of bloodthirsty snobs, so it was important to look the part of a future queen. Her wardrobe was her armour, Hana had said.

Hana. That was the name of the girl Paige had met in the dressing room, who happened to be the fourth of those five people who would one day change her life. The two had gotten dressed and acquainted, and Paige was hoping to run into her at the ball. She had been sweet, helpful, informative, and gorgeous. What was it with the people there? She had never seen such a consistent concentration of ridiculously hot people in her life.

“Okay. It’s time.” They stopped in front of the ornate golden doors. Maxwell turned to her, adjusting his mask. “Before we get into the actual ball, you’ll need to give the herald your full name when we go in. Since you’re with my family, you could technically be considered a Lady. You’ll give him your name, and he’ll announce you as Lady Paige…?”

“Langley. Lady Paige Langley.”

“Hm. Not exactly traditional, but regal enough.”

With that, he pushed open the doors, and they strolled in. Paige gave her name to the herald, and stood as straight as she could on the steps. Maxwell gave her a quick, reassuring smile, and she felt slightly better. He was good at that.

“LORD MAXWELL PERCIVAL BEAUMONT, AND LADY PAIGE LANGLEY!” The herald’s voice boomed through the enormous room. At the sound of an unfamiliar name, heads turned to watch Paige strut down the stairs. Little gasps and murmurs rippled through the room as they stared at her. She resisted the urge to tug at her hair or adjust her halo. Any move that betrayed how self conscious she was feeling would definitely get her noticed. People like those could sniff out an insecurity like blood in the water. The second a confident exterior faltered, they went in for the kill. Paige kept her back straight and her eyes ahead.

“Okay. I gotta go talk to my brother. You stay here. Mingle. You can do that, right? Just mingle.” Before she could respond, Maxwell was gone.

Paige turned, looking around desperately for someone she knew. She spotted Drake, looking vaguely angsty and annoyed in a corner, still in his basic denim. She decided she might as well try her luck with him. She walked over, trying her best to step slowly and gracefully.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you looking pretty.” He sized her up. “You fit right in.”

“Well, you’re charming as ever.”

“Ha! Compared to most of the nobles here, I’m your best friend.”

“God, Drake.” she rolled her eyes. “Everyone here’s been perfectly nice so far.”

“Sure, to your face. What do you think goes on the second you leave the room? The people here will jump at the chance to shove you as far down the totem pole as they can.”

“Well, let’s take a look at some examples of their behavior, shall we? They’re letting you attend an extremely high-brow event for free, in your day clothes. You have access to expensive foods, interesting conversation and a bar full of fancy foreign cocktails. And instead of being grateful, you choose to badmouth these people whenever you can, complain, and act like you’re being some big hero by being here. You’re not even wearing a mask!” She hadn’t realized how annoyed she was, but she found herself surprisingly worked up on this. At the sight of her pissed-off expression, Drake softened slightly.

“Look. I swear I’m not trying to be a dick, just trying to be honest. It may look glamorous here, but these people are completely two faced. You’re the newbie, and without someone like me looking out for you, you’ll get clobbered.”

His explanation didn’t exactly soften her up. “If your way of helping is to stand in the corner and bitch about this place, then I’d say you’re doing an excellent job.”

Drake looked like he was going to respond, but he stopped suddenly. He went stiff as a board and completely pale, his eyes fixed right over Paige’s shoulder. Before she could ask what was wrong, she felt a warm hand on her arm.

“Pardon me, but I must steal her away.” The voice was warm, seductive, completely unfamiliar. Based on the alarmed look on Drake’s face, it must not have been a friendly one.

“Um, I’ll just…” He all but sprinted for the opposite end of the room. Paige turned to face the intruder.

Oh. The tiniest of gasps escaped her lips as she gazed into a pair of emerald-green eyes.

If you were to take the moment she first saw Liam, and multiply it by about a thousand or so, you’d have some idea of how Paige felt. Her heart threatened to beat right out of her body as her stomach swooped dramatically.

The woman before her was like no noble Paige had seen before. Where some, like Hana, chose to present themselves as a sweet, soft sort of beautiful, this woman was more sexy. An edgy, almost dangerous sort of drop-dead gorgeous that made heat pool in Paige’s core.

She realized, dazedly, that the woman was wearing the devil costume Paige had almost bought. Little horns peaked out from her pile of crimson hair. The red velvet of her gown clung to her rounded hips, and the neck of it fell as far down her chest as courtly etiquette would allow. She gazed down at Paige, her lips slightly parted. She seemed surprised, as though the other woman had caught her off guard somehow, and Paige wondered distantly what that meant.

“I am Lady Olivia Vanderwall Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos,” she murmured. Paige fought to keep her eyes from flickering to the duchess’s candy-painted lips.

“I’m-”

“Lady Paige Langley. Yes, I heard the herald announce you. That’s why I’m here.” She shook her head slightly. Her gaze became sharper as she smiled at the other woman. “I make it my business to know every name at court, and I’ve never heard yours before. Perhaps you’re from one of the humbler duchies?” She didn’t give Paige a chance to respond. “In any case, since you’re the new girl at court, I thought I might give you a bit of advice. You’re not from here, I take it? Cordonia, I mean.” Paige could only nod.

“Well then, let me give you a little tip.” She leaned in with a conspiratory smile, and Paige could feel Olivia’s warm breath on her skin. Her legs grew unstable beneath her, as though she were about to faint.

“When you go up to see the king, bow and kiss his right shoe. It’s a sign of ultimate respect here.”

Could that be true? Unlikely as it seemed, Paige did recall reading about a similar custom from somewhere else in Europe. She frowned. “Really?” She made a mental note to ask Maxwell about that later.

“Oh, of course! It’s lucky I was able to tell you, otherwise you would’ve looked like a complete fool!” She gave a light laugh. As soon as she heard it, the waitress wanted to do whatever she could to hear that sound again.

“Paige!” Maxwell ran up from out of nowhere. Paige did her best not to be annoyed with him for cutting her time with Olivia short. “Liam’s-” he cut himself off as he noticed the Nevrakis. “Um, I mean, Prince Liam, whose title I am always sure to use, because of my deep respect and admiration for him, is coming out to see everyone.” Olivia rolled her eyes and walked off to join a small cluster of ladies.

“Are you ready to see him again?”

Paige tried to paste on a convincing smile. “Totally. I’m totally ready for this.”

“Cool. Let’s go!”

The pair ran off to join a gathering of people at the side of the room, Paige resisting the urge to check over her shoulder for Olivia.

“There he is!” Maxwell pointed. And there he was, the prince himself. Liam stood at the end of the room, making conversation with a star-struck young woman clearly trying very hard to keep cool.

“Do you think he’ll be happy to see me?” Paige whispered.

“Only one way to find out, I guess. But first, you gotta meet the king.”

“Wait, what? You didn’t tell me that I’m meeting the king first thing! What do I say to him?

“Calm down. It’s easy. Just follow what the other ladies do, and you’ll be fine.”

“Wait, wha-”

“LADIES OF THE COURT!” An announcer’s voice boomed across the room. “LINE UP TO GREET THE KING!”

The women rushed to form a line leading towards the front of the room. Paige caught a glimpse of an older man taking a seat upon one of the gilded thrones at the front of the room, flanked by two guards. Hitching up her skirts, she hurried over to take her spot in the growing queue. She watched as each woman made her way up to the king, curtseying and-

And nothing. The bulk of heavy skirts and the towers of gelled-up hair completely blocked her view. It was impossible to tell if any shoe kissing had taken place. She tried her best to steal a glance, but the women in line seemed to take her rustling for attempted line-cutting. She received multiple dirty looks as well as one quick jab to the ribs.

The line was shortening quickly, and Paige was beginning to get panicky. She was already a commoner. She couldn’t afford to broadcast the fact that she also knew pretty much nothing of Cordonian culture. She’d be laughed right out of the court, right out of the country. She leaned to the side again, trying desperately to see what was going on. Nothing.

Finally, there were only two women left in front of Paige. She had given up on trying to see what they were doing, and was instead just trying to not let her nerves show. Elegant smile, straight back. She caught a glimpse of Liam standing across the room, making polite conversation with those who had already met the king. Out of his sweater and into his official suit, he looked so much more… official. That air of nobility that had seemed out of place at the bar suited him perfectly here. He looked so quintessentially prince charming, the poster boy for all that was good and wholesome. It was easy to see why so many ladies were here. In addition to the many gold diggers that Paige was sure were lurking about, many of these women probably actually liked Liam. She watched as a dark-haired young woman laughed a little too hard at a joke of his, slapping his arm lightly. Her eyes sparkled as she stepped closer to him. Her lips parted, as she pre-

“Shitshitshit!” She hissed under breath, before praying that nobody heard her. It was her turn to greet the king.

“Good evening, milady.” The king smiled kindly at her as she took a step closer. He was clearly expecting something.

“Good evening, your majesty. I am Lady Paige Langley, of House Beaumont.”

She dropped into a low curtsey. Her face was inches from the king’s shoe.

She risked a glance back at Olivia. The duchess was watching with not a look of hope, or excitement, or malice. She was looking on with a very clear expression of guilt on her face.

Paige stood from her curtsey, smiled once more, and left the line.

  * * *

“Hey! Where'd you go? I was looking all over for you!” Do you know how hard it is to find a pretty girl in a nice dress in a ballroom choked with pretty girls in nice dresses?”      

“Sorry. I got caught up talking to Hana.”

After the thing with the king, Paige had felt strangely paralyzed with anxiety. Well, maybe it wasn’t so strange. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that a total stranger had tried to humiliate her like a schoolyard bully. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that said stranger was gorgeous and intimidating and sexy and Paige had wanted for her to like her so, so badly. She knew that a trick like this alone wasn’t a big deal, but it hurt that much more coming from someone whom she had so desperately wanted to be some angel. So, instead of joining the growing crowd of women mobbing Liam, she had gone out to the balcony for a moment to breathe. That was where she had found Hana, and the two spent the next half hour talking. It had been nice to just talk to someone, with no expectations or rules. Hana was quickly becoming one of her favorite people at court.

“Wait, you know Hana? Actually, nevermind, we’ll talk on that later. In the meantime, you have to get in there with Liam. You’re one of the only people he hasn’t talked to yet.”

“You think he’ll be freaked out? We only knew each other for like a night before I decided to come out here, and now I’m trying to marry him? Isn’t that weird?”

“Ha! You think a night is too weird? That’s practically a year in royal time. He’s meeting some of these women for the first time tonight. If anything, you’ve got a leg up. He both knows and likes you.”  

“If you say so.”

“And I do. Look, I think he’s free. Go, go, go!”

Maxwell nudged her forward, and she strode across the room to meet Liam. He was finishing up a conversation with someone, and he turned to look at Paige as the woman walked away.  

“Hello, Lady-” He stopped short, his eyes going wide. “It’s you! Paige!”

“It’s me.” She smiled at him, hoping this was a pleasant surprise. Her hopes were confirmed when he broke out in a huge grin.

“Oh, Paige, I thought I’d never see you again! How are you even here?”

“The morning after I met you, Maxwell found me. He offered to take me here so I could represent House Beaumont and… become queen.” Though it was the truth, the thought of saying “marry you” out loud turned her stomach.

“That’s amazing! I’m afraid we don’t have too much time to talk, but that’s incredible news. For the first time all night, I’m actually enjoying a conversation.”

“Does this mean that you’re happy to see me?”

“Happy? I’m ecstatic. I truly like you Paige. I think we have something, and I’m glad we’re getting the chance to explore that together.”

Guilt stabbed at her insides. Liam looked so happy to see her, and yet she couldn’t say the same. She kept thinking back to the moment she saw Olivia. They had barely spoken, and still she had sensed more chemistry in those few minutes than she had after a whole night with Liam. He wasn’t the one she wanted, not even close. But he had deep, personal feelings for her. If she nailed those challenges, she had a real shot at being Liam’s wife. It was a thought that would have made so many of those courtly ladies cry tears of joy, but succeeded only in filling Paige with dread. He actually liked her. He wanted this.

“It’s a lot of pressure, isn’t it? All this, I mean. How are you holding up?” She hoped he wouldn’t notice how she changed the subject.

“I’ve known this was going to happen for some time now. It’s certainly not ideal, but perhaps it won’t be quite so terrible with you here.”

God, he really wasn’t making this easy on her, was he?

“Are the ladies here really that bad? Most of the people I’ve spoken to have been nice enough.”

“It’s not that the ladies themselves are bad, not at all. It’s the process I don’t enjoy. The whole thing is ridiculous and exhausting to all those involved. I know most of the women here, and they’re all incredibly smart and accomplished. And yet they’re being lined up like members of...of…” He paused. “What’s that american dating show? The one with the roses?”

“The Bachelor?”

“Yes! That’s it! This whole thing is one big episode of the bachelor.”

“I’m sorry you have to go through all of it.”

“Don’t be. It is my duty to serve my country however I can. If this is what I must do, so be it.”

Before Paige could respond, the guard behind Liam stepped forward to clear his throat. The prince winced apologetically at Paige.

“I’m afraid we’ve got less than a minute now. Before you go, can I give you a warning?” She nodded.

“This place, these people, are different. We’re not in New York anymore. There are codes, rules, that you’ll have to learn but never be taught. You’ll make friends and alliances, but be careful. Someone like you, here, can’t be too trusting. I don’t mean to scare you, but I care about you. I couldn’t stand to watch you get hurt.”

“Liam, I-”

“Ahem.” The guard coughed. “I believe it is time to move on, your grace.”

“Thank you, Bastien.” The prince turned back, looking regretful. “I’m so sorry, but I must move on. Shall we speak later?”

“Let’s.” She shot him what she could only hope to be a reassuring smile, curtseyed, and strode off, spotting a familiar figure by the drinks.

“Hey, Paige! It looked like that went well.”

“I’d say it did. He seemed happy to see me.”

“Of course he was! I told you he would be.”

“He was weirdly cryptic, though. He kept talking about how much of a drag this whole thing is, and how I need to make allies, and gather people I can trust, and watch my back-the list goes on.”

“Huh. That doesn’t sound like him. Are you sure you weren’t talking to Drake?”

“Unless Drake suddenly owns a body guard and a non-denim item of clothing, then no.”

“Hm. I’ll talk to him later. It’s probably just the pressure of everything getting to him. He’s not wrong, though. It’s good to form alliances with the other ladies. Most of them are outside right now. Go join them, grab a drink, socialize. Make some friends.”

“Got it. Any tips before I go? Who’s nice, who’s boring, who’s a snobby-ass bitch, et cetera.”

“Well, first off, save the cursing for later. One F bomb in here can and will get you kicked out. But to answer your question, Hana’s probably one of the nicest that you’ll meet. Friendly, not a known schemer. Penelope Ebrim is probably one of the more boring ones here, but she’s nice enough. Easily manipulated, but you didn’t hear that from me. Kiara Theron’s pretty interesting, but she can be sort of condescending, snobby. And if you want to talk about-” He paused.

“If you’re looking for witches with a b, then watch out for Olivia Nevrakis. She would kill, and I mean that literally, to become queen. She’s ruthless, cruel, and a known saboteur. Be on the lookout for her.”

“Oh. Good to know.”

“You’re welcome. Now get out there!”  

Hiking up her skirts, Paige strode out into a moonlit garden. The women were talking amongst themselves as they grabbed flutes of champagne. She was scanning the crowd when she felt someone come up behind her.

Turning, she found Olivia glowering at her, her friendly smile from before replaced with a pissy sneer.

“You seemed awfully friendly with the prince earlier, hm? You didn’t say you knew him personally.”

“It’s none of your business how I know Liam.” Paige savored the way the duchess blanched at the way the other woman skipped Liam’s title. “And can we get back to the way you lied to me about the shoe-kissing thing?”

“Yes, yes. Come on, even you have to admit that was funny.You’re the new girl, you’re going to get tricked.” Perhaps this would have been more bothersome if Olivia had been able to look the other woman in the eye, or stop fidgeting with her gown.

“Well, it’s done. You’ve gotten in your dumb little joke, and now it’s over.” At this, the duchess’s head snapped up, her mopey exterior suddenly vanished.

“It’s over when I say it’s over.” She took a step closer, her eyes blazing. Her voice had gone low and dangerous, and Paige hated the way it made her shiver. She tilted her chin, trying to look unfazed.

“Listen to me. I know you’re used to getting whatever you want from people, but that’s not how this is going to go. I’m not your servant, I’m not your follower. Whatever you may believe, you’re not entitled to Liam’s hand, and you’re certainly not entitled to my respect, fear, or loyalty.”

Olivia stepped back, surprised. Some of the women actually gasped as they watched the whole thing unfold.

“Excuse me? Clearly, you’re delusional. I grew up with Liam. I know him better than you ever will. Maybe you made for a fun distraction, but you’re nowhere near wife, or queen, material. The women here have been trained since birth to marry a prince, and if you think that you can just waltz in here and steal that from us, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Not a threat.” She was close, too close, and Paige wanted desperately to grab her even closer.

“A promise.”

[sennextheassasinkingoflight]

Mornings

Cursed (Tv 2020) Fanfiction Cross posted at Ao3 Rated T and up for suggestive themes 

Lancewain 

SUMMARY:  Gawain just wants to spend the morning in bed cuddling with his lover. That shouldn't be to much to ask now that the war is over. After seven years of living with Lancelot he may just get what he's after.

CEREMONY SCRIPT PULLED FROM https://greatofficiants.com/medieval-wedding-ceremony

I

Lancelot was always awake and dressed impeccably before Gawain. Normally the man had breakfast ready, whatever form it had taken for the day. It had been this way since Lancelot had been released from the makeshift prison he had been kept in and into Gawain's custody. That had been quite the fight, but ultimately Merlin and Gawain in turn with The Red Spear had managed to get the others to agree. There simply weren’t enough fey to kill one of their own, and definitely not enough Ashfolk to go killing him either. Especially if he truly had chosen to take sides with the Fey. He had one warning though, if he started anything, finished anything, killed a Fey or caused one undo harm he was done. Executed on the spot. Thankfully it had never come to that. It may have had to do with his lack of a weapon except when training. Though they all knew he could kill them if he truly wanted to. Perhaps it had to do with Squirrel being attached to the man and looking up to him, voting that he had changed and would be a good man. Perhaps it had to do with his own fascination and attraction to the man, loath as he was initially to admit the last part. Whatever the cause or reason for his change of heart Lancelot had changed. Today was not very different in that regard. Lancelot was awake over an hour before it was strictly necessary, even despite the fact that they did not have patrols today. In fact, the only things that needed their attention today, were those things that they decided to do. It was their day to rest, among some others. It was important, with rebuilding after the official end of the war for them to remember to take proper rest. There was always work to be done, food to be grown and harvested, building and temples to be erected.

Some clans were reduced to so few that they had congregated with other clans too small to sustain themselves well. Gawain was confident with Arthur and Guinevere ruling in Uthers place and sending out word that the Fey were safe in the kingdom that those numbers would increase steadily and gradually as they proved that it was indeed safe. But as with all things it would take time. There were still bands of paladins and those loyal to Cumber who sought to bring down the Fey and wreak havoc on the people of Britannia.

For now though, the two of them had fallen into a kind of domestic cohabitation, as often occurred in the case of two lovers. For that too is what they were now. It was strange to consider. They had been enemies, had nearly killed one another so often in those early days that Gawain often found himself confused as to how he could now sit across the table from the Ashman and sip tea and eat eggs like it was the most natural event that could unfold. Gawain yawned, earning a smirk from Lancelot.

“And what shall we do this afternoon?” “It’s far too early to think about that now.” Gawain rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned again.  “Why do you insist on getting up so early?” “It’s only habit, and much as I love you I do enjoy the quiet of early morning.” Offered Lancelot in response and Gawain's heart hammered harder in his chest. A smile gracing his lips.

“Are you certain it’s too late to go back to bed?”

Lancelot only smiles fondly and kisses his forehead before he leaves to help out in the kitchens as is his Saturday morning routine. He isn’t required to but he enjoys doing so and according to Kinna he is one of the best bakers they have.

II

Gawain roles over with a groan. He doesn’t even know what time it is, only that his lover is no longer in their bed. He curls himself around Lancelot's pillow and breathes deeply. A chuckle wakes him slightly further from his sleep. “I thought I was the one who did the scenting?”

Gawain groans again, “Come back to bed and we’ll find out.”

It's such a sweet offer of a challenge but Lancelot has patrol this morning. He desperately wants to do just that, but he has a duty to attend. The war may be over but that doesn’t mean they are completely safe. There are still rogue groups of Paladins and Cumbers men roaming around looking for Fey to execute. “I can’t. You know this. I’ll be back this afternoon, and we can do something then.” He leans down and kisses the top of Gawain's head and the knight smiles, burying himself further into the warmth left in places of bedmate. He knows they have duties to attend to even if he’s only half asleep, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting the morning to drag on just a while longer. After all, their home is the only place Lancelot feels safe enough to be open and forward with him. He rolls onto his back and reaches out a hand, it's only a moment before the rustling of fabric from the former monk getting dressed ceases and a sword calloused hand takes his own. He feels the press of lips against his and sighs happily. This would have to do. “Born in the dawn,” He starts, words slurred by the call of sleep. ‘To pass in the twilight.” Lancelot's voice finishes on the edge of his consciousness, his hand is squeezed. It's the last thing he knows before sleep returns to him.

III

Gawain sighs. The bed was empty and cold when he woke this morning and it frustrated him to no end. He wished he could get the older man to understand that sometimes you could take a morning off. That it was okay to have a slow morning where you relaxed. Cuddled with your lover even. There was far more to the physical side of a relationship than sex. And while the sex was very good, sometimes Gawain just wanted to be wrapped up in the others embrace knowing that he was loved and taken care of. He was certain that Lancelot needed that too. It was more than quick kisses, and the brush of fingers on bare skin, or the feel of a supportive hand on his shoulder that he craved. The problem was that he really didn’t know how to express it in a way that Lancelot would understand. Beyond that the man had had the same pattern for the last six years, and Gawain wasn’t sure he could break him of it even if they both wanted it.

He leans down and pulls on his boots, he has a meeting with Arthur early this afternoon and it will take him and the others a few hours to reach the castle. Lancelot will not be coming with them, instead he will remain in the village, because that's what it is now, not a camp to help protect it and to be available to assist its members in whatever way necessary. He and Percival are very capable of this task, and Gawain knows they won’t return to find the village in ruins. Still he wishes that the Ashman was coming, if for nothing else than the quiet companionship that he offers.

They haven’t had much time together since Gawain was deemed Elderman of the village. He is not the elder of the village but he is the one everyone goes to and he can’t seem to get away from it. He knows it is in part due to the part he played in the rebellion and because of his status as both Fey Knight and Knight of the Round Table. And yet he is beginning to loathe the position, just as he loathed being the Green Knight. It was taking away from the time and the energy he could spend with his lover and their son and the other people in his life that mattered. He knew it would likely settle as the turmoil around them slowed and peace returned to the land but for now it put things like being joined to the bottom of the list and so he still hadn’t asked. He wondered if they were married if Lancelot would be inclined to spend his mornings in bed with him.

IV

Lancelot had been made a Knight of the Round Table and so had Percival, though a bit young he had proven himself time and time again worthy of the title. That had been what the meeting was about a few weeks ago. The ceremony had been arranged for this morning, and so it came as no surprise to Gawain when he felt Lancelot leave their bed before the sun had even begun to turn the sky the yawning grey of dawn.  He lets out a defeated sigh and turns his back to Lancelot's side of the bed. It's the complete opposite of what he usually does, but even now, half awake and over tired, despite a night of sleep, it hurts him that Lancelot insists on getting up instead of spending just a little extra time with him.   “Gawain? You smell upset.” He hears Lancelot say as he feels a dip in the bed. He only lets out a slight grunt and shifts his arm under the pillow he's using drawing it closer to himself in turn with his knees. He feels defensive and he isn’t awake enough to process his actions. “Tell me whats wrong?” “It’s nothing. I'm just not ready to be awake yet.” He isn’t sure his words make sense to Lancelot, they feel heavy and odd in his mouth. “Then go back to sleep. I’ll wake you at sunrise.” The voice that responds is gentle and understanding and he wants to tell him that he should be angry at him for lying but instead he nuzzles his pillow and yawns. He lets sleep slither silently around him again and painfully ignores the fingers running through his hair, and the knuckles that caress his cheek, and his shoulder. He falls into a fitful half slumber as Lancelot readies himself for the big day. When the ceremony takes place, Gawain feels guilty for having been upset with Lancelot this morning. He’s dressed in his new surcoat and cloak. Percival is dressed similarly though sporting colors that are a mix of his and Lancelots, though the crest is his own. He smiles, pride swelling in his chest as Arthur knights them both but does not give permission for them to rise. He nearly misses his cue. Percival snickers at him and then smiles at Lancelot with a nod. He can see the confusion in those stunning blue eyes as they track him stepping forward beside Arthur. As Gawain steps forward he can’t help but smile, he takes the blade from Arthur and stands before the two most important men in his life.

He begins voice strong and clear in the air as it echos into the courtyard, “A Knight of the Fey is one with the land,

enduring as the the Great River,

and as true as Arwan’s bow.

We are born in the dawn,”

He swallows, watches as the reality of his words settles on the two infront of him and knows that his anger this morning was pointless and unnecessary. He watches as Percival swallows, tears ready to fall from his eyes as they did all those days ago. And Lancelot, sweet broken Lancelot can’t stop the tear that follows the tracks of his people or the shuddering breath he takes just before he and Percival answer in tandem, “To pass in the twilight.”

V

It is the morning of their joining, seven years to the day since Lancelot came to them. And while he would love to be wrapped up in the man and  in the comfort and warmth of their bed it is not to be. Only, he is upset that he hadn’t been able to spend the night in Lancelot's arms, Percival had insisted on him staying over going on about bad luck or some such thing. So he had, it couldn’t hurt to spend the evening in Percivals company. He knew the boy probably needed it as much as Gawain realized he himself did. So they drank and sang songs and spoke about a great many things, including the girl who had Percivals fancy. This morning came with a slight hangover and the absence of his lover but it was the furthest thing from the worst morning he had ever had. He was brimming with excitement and buzzing with energy and could barely sit still long enough to eat breakfast. Percival shook his head at him and then they were getting ready. Gawain would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. The day went by incredibly fast between losing himself in his thoughts, getting ready, and the influx of visitors he had. But not once did he catch sight of Lancelot. It is just before noon that their vows are to take place. As the time approached Gawain felt the nervousness return tenfold. He was a warrior, a knight, he should not be nervous about this and yet he was. It would not change anything about the way he and Lancelot loved one another, but it was important and he didn’t want to mess it up. He approached the dias from the left as they agreed. Lancelot would come from the right. There was no need for traditional aisle walking. And yet as they approached the stage on which the ceremony would take place, the rest of the world died away. In a moment he was reminded of just how spectacular and stunning the man he loved was. Dark curls hung just past his ears, sunlight shining where it was laced with blond. Blue eyes like the depths of a still lake surrounded by the marks of his people. He loved those the most of all Lancelot's features. They were striking and fierce as war paint, and as sad as heartbreak, and yet when Lancelot smiled they reminded him of life and love as they did at this very moment. When they met at centre stage he could not hold back the smile on his lips. He did not know for certain the last time he felt joy like this, but he would not soon forget this day. When he met Lancelot's eyes, he found the same sentiment reflected back at him.

After a moment the officiant, Elder of the Skyfolk, spoke. “Say thy vows if thou gives them freely.”

And so they did, they spoke boldly and truthfully. With passion and love. They promised as all do to be faithful and true and to be present always and forever and more. They promised to keep no secrets, to reconcile all heartaches, to be slow in anger and to be just in their actions. They swore to cherish, to love and be united as equals in all endeavors. When they had finished proclaiming their promises to one another the officiant spoke once more a smile on her face. “Join hands.”

So they did with barely a glance, so well in sync their eyes could hold conversations mid battle, or mid marriage. The people watching them didn’t matter, the sun to bright and hot didn’t matter. What mattered was this moment in which they told the world they had chosen one another, and told each other they meant every whispered word of endearment and parise and love.  No one spoke as the Elder placed the three cords over their hands, the burgundy cord to symbolize romance, partnership and happiness, ivory for peace, sincerity and devotion, and gold which represents unity, prosperity and longevity. And finally he spoke out

“As this knot is tied, so are your lives now bound. Woven into this cord, imbued into its very fibers, are all the hopes of thy friends and family, and of thyselves, for a new life together.

With the fashioning of this knot you tie all the desires, dreams, love, and happiness wished here in this place to your lives for as long as love shall last.

In the joining of hands and the fashioning of a knot, so are your lives now bound, one to another.

By this cord you are thus now and forevermore bound to your vow.

May this knot remain tied for as long as love shall last. May this cord draw your hands together in love, never to be used in anger.

May the vows you have spoken never grow bitter in your mouths. As any child discovers when they are learning to tie their own shoes, the first move is to cross the ends.

The cross creates the (X), which is the symbol of partnership and union. As your hands are bound by this cord, so is your partnership held by the symbol of this knot.

Two entwined in love, bound by commitment and fear, sadness and joy, by hardship and victory, anger and reconciliation, all of which brings strength to this union.

Hold tight to one another through both good times and bad, and watch as your strength grows.

I shall now remove the cords.

Thou hast pledged troth of thy own free will and have been bound together by the ritual of the cords.

May it be granted that what is done before the gods be not undone by man.

Before I proclaim you joined thou must kiss three times on cue,’ Lancelot raised an eye brow and Gawain only shrugged too enamored by the man in front of him to care that it was ridiculous. Besides what did it matter if they kissed thrice now, there was certain to be many more this day, and the days to come.

“Once for luck, Twice for Love and Thrice for Long life. By the Power Vested in my by the Realm I now pronounce you married.”

The day ended in dancing and laughter and glee.

 +1

It was the morning after their wedding and Gawain woke to the familiar feeling of Lancelot leaving their bed. He sighed, assuming the other simply needed to relieve himself. It was their first morning wed, surely he would stay in bed and cuddle with him. It had to be obvious that they weren’t meant to do anything today, anything that didn’t involve the other and staying squarely in this bed. Unfortunately, the familiar sound of fabric rustling removed any traces of sleep from Gawain as he sat up abruptly in their bed. "What are you doing? We could keep cuddling." The words leave him before he can process what it actually was he intended to say. He ducks his chin embarrassed and can feel Lancelot's eyes on him, as though he’s being seen for the first time. Slowly the man responds, voice uncertain.

"Not if I'm going to walk around this camp properly dressed."

"You mean boiling to death and looking gloomy. Why do you have to start getting dressed an hour before sun up anyways? Besides that you realize no one expects us to leave this house today, let alone this bed. We just got married. Come lie back down!"

His demand is met by shock and surprise as they settle on Lancelot's features and then turn to a blush as he shifts embarrassed. Gawain can’t help but laugh, of course this man wouldn’t think of something like that, not that he could fault him. His upbringing certainly didn’t lend to romantic inclination. He stares as the dark haired man shifts uncomfortably on the other side of the bed.

"it takes that long to lace my surcoat...." and now it's his turn to be taken aback. “What?” “It takes an hour to get the damn garment on.” Lancelot says louder and much more upset than Gawain thinks he should be. He can’t help the cackle that leaves him as he shifts in the bed to more fully face his husband .

"Come back to bed for half an hour."

"It's like you don’t even listen."  Lancelot sighs and shifts his clothing around.

“All this time, that's why you haven’t stayed in bed with me in the mornings.” He groans, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Listen, if you decide that you have to get up and get dressed and do things, which I think you'll find you won’t, I'll get up with you and it will take half the time. Now come back to bed so I can kiss you senseless."

In the span of a few seconds the air is knocked from his lungs as he is pushed back against the mattress and his pillows, Lancelot's nose pressed into his neck and their bodies pressed firmly together. His brain, it seems, takes too long to process what just happened as Lancelot whines against his ear,

"Well what are you waiting for?"  It's all the permission he needs as he rolls them to the side and pulls him close, kissing him passionately in the process.

[minky-for-short]

An Unexpected Bond (chapter 2)

Thanks again to my wonderful betas @mollymauk-teafleak and @spiky-lesbian <33

A month later, Vex and Percy begin working together to fulfill her end of the deal.

---

Vex is lying on her bed, studying the mark on the back of her hand as her mind plays through the events of last month.

After she had stepped back through the tree that night, she immediately ran to his brother’s room to see for herself that Pike’s message was true. Sure enough, he was sitting up in his bed, plowing through a hearty meal of chicken and root vegetables, when he had barely enough appetite to make it through a few spoonfuls of broth a few days prior. Her twin never had much color to his skin to begin with, but he was far from the sickly pale that he had been for the past few weeks, and when he caught sight of her, he immediately leapt out of bed to throw his arms around her in a tight hug, practically lifting her off her feet. Honestly, if she hadn’t been spending two weeks caring for him, she never would’ve known he’d ever been sick in the first place.

They spent the rest of the evening celebrating the return to his good health with their friends, sharing a bottle of wine between them as she sat close to her brother, relieved that he was able to sit here to laugh and joke with him, and she said a silent thanks to her new fae friend under her breath for completing his end of the deal so beautifully.

And speaking of her fae…

..Vax was decidedly not thrilled when he found out what she’d exchanged for his health.

“Vax, I promise you” Vex tries to placate her brother as he paces around the room, “it is NOT as bad as it sounds.”

“You are going to let this fae, that you met in the woods, knock you up and then come back in nine months to whisk your baby away. Please tell me, Vex, how does that not sound bad?”

“...well when you say it like that..” Vax just groans as he bangs his head against the wall, “look, I’m not going to apologize for saving your life, Vax.”

“I know you’re not, of course I’m grateful, but-”

“- and this was going to be the price, no matter what. I at least made sure I had control over who the father will be. Better the child belongs to him by blood, than rip fatherhood away from some poor bastard who never agreed to this deal in the first place.”

Vax sighs, sitting on his bed as he looks up at his sister, “and what about you? Are you really going to be okay just handing away your child to this creature, probably never to see him, or your child, again?”

Vex flushes slightly as she sits in a chair across from him, her head falling in her hands, “I don’t know, I’m not letting myself think of it. I’m not even pregnant yet, but I just have to make sure I don’t get attached to the child.”

Vax sends a questioning look to his twin, “Now, I know I will never experience this myself, so my opinions can’t be taken too seriously, but it seems rather difficult /not/ to become attached to something that grows inside you for nine months..” He immediately clamps up as Vex sends a sharp look at him, “Sorry, I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, or have doubts about your choice. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know!” Vex snaps, before collecting herself and continuing softly, “I know...look, I won’t lie, I can’t pretend I know what’s going to happen..” she bites her lip before she continues, “but I don’t think he would hurt me.” She is met by her brother’s doubtful gaze, “I can’t explain it, and I’ve only just met him but he just seems, I don’t know, different.” 

The whole time she’s talking, she’s unconsciously stroking the six-sided sun marked on the back of her hand, almost as though the motion comforted her.

Vax doesn’t miss it, his eyes flickering briefly towards the mark on his sister’s hand. His impulses urges him to track this fae down and hold one of his iron daggers to his throat until he agrees to free Vex of her half of the deal, his own health be damned. And as often as his tendency to listen to his impulses over his brain, he finds himself being able to silence them as he watches his sister’s thumb stroke softly over that mark, and he finds himself being swayed that, maybe, Vex is right.

And in their shared experiences, Vex usually tended to be. 

“Alright..” Vax sighs, looking back up at his sister to meet her gaze, “I still have my concerns, but I’ll follow your lead here. If you intend to fulfill your end of the deal with this fae, then I’ll support you.”

Vex looks at her twin with surprise, but smiles appreciatively, moving up from her chair to sit next to him on the bed. “Thank you,” she smiles, resting her hand on top of his, “I know this whole thing seems crazy, hell it IS crazy, but I really appreciate your support here.”

“After what you did for me? It’s the least I can do.” Vax says, smiling slightly as he gives her hand a squeeze, “Just promise you won’t make a habit out of banging faefolk in exchange for my health.”

That earns a laugh from his sister, “I’ll do my best, Scrawny.” 

----

Vex sighs as she looks up at the ceiling in her room. It’s been a month since that conversation with Vax, and even so, she hasn’t seen or heard from Percival in that time.

She briefly wondered if he’d forgotten about their deal, but she quickly dismissed that thought. In all the books she’s read about the fae, there was nothing but lore after lore about how they always collect on a deal they make, no matter how long ago it was struck.

Besides, it’s not like there wasn’t any proof that the fae wasn’t still present in her life; the glowing mark on her hand was proof of that. 

And yet there were other signs that her fae was still there. How, during her archery training, if she’d cut herself after her bowstring snapped, it would be healed before Pike even had a chance to look at it. And, during one of her clumsier moments, tripping over a lifted tree root while in the woods with Trinket, an invisible hand would catch her and help her regain her balance.

Vex felt as though she could explain those away as the fae protecting his “investment”. After all, it benefitted him to keep her safe until she fulfilled her end of the deal.

And yet…

There are some things she can’t seem to explain; such as why is it before she went to sleep at night, she could hear the soothing sounds of the forest ever so clearly in her ears?

Instead of lingering on these thoughts, Vex shakes her head and groans. “I’m overthinking..” she mumbles to herself, finally standing from her bed as she finally decides to undress for the evening.

“What are you overthinking?”

Acting on instinct, Vex grabs the dagger she keeps under her pillow and is ready to throw it towards the unfamiliar voice.

Until she realizes, it’s not unfamiliar at all.

She just hadn’t heard it for a month.

“Percival..” she sighs, turning as she sets the dagger down on her desk and is greeted by the familiar blue eyes and amused smirk of her fae, “You really need to find a better way to announce yourself.”

“Apologies, Vex’ahlia.” He chuckles lightly, “I’ll be sure to knock next time. It would be quite awkward for our arrangement if you stabbed me,” his eyes glance down to the knife, “though I do appreciate the fact that you don’t keep an iron dagger under your pillow.”

“I used to,” Vex responds, smirking lightly, “but I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea.” Silence passes between them for a few moments before she speaks up again, “So, the fact that you’re here must mean you’re ready?”

Percy nods, “I would’ve returned sooner, but I had other matters to attend to in the Feywild.”

Vex tilts her head curiously, “Is that so? Well I’d be fascinated to learn how you spend your time when you aren’t making deals with mortals.”

“In good time, my dear” Percy chuckles, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight as they glance at her bare shoulders, “but please, don’t let me interrupt what you were doing.”

Vex had only gotten to unbuttoning her top when Percy announced himself, and she has never been one to be shy about showing off her body in front of others, and she won’t be stopping that now. So she faces Percy fully, giving him a full view of her as her shirt, then her leggings and underclothes drop to the floor. She doesn’t blush or wait hesitantly for his approval, she knows damn well she looks incredible. 

And seeing the way his eyes darken as his gaze travels down her body, it’s clear he agrees.

“You, uh” Percy coughs, clearing his throat as he returns his gaze to Vex’s eyes, “You are quite lovely.”

“I know,” Vex grins confidently, sitting back on the bed, “at least we know our child will be inheriting some good genes.”

Percy can’t help but let out a chuckle, regaining his composure as he moves closer to the bed, “Your boldness is quite attractive as well,” he reaches out to undo her braid, watching as her long, thick hair falls in waves down her back, marvelling in her beauty like she was a work of art, “you truly are an exquisite woman.” 

“No need to use sweet words with me,” Vex hums, not allowing herself to be caught up in his words, not when this was nothing more than a business transaction, but she could still have fun with it.

“Perish the thought,” Percy responds, drawing his hand away from her curls as he begins undoing his own, finer garments. “We may be fulfilling a contract, but I don’t intend to use false words of love with you, you are far too clever to fall for them.” his jacket, vest and shirt are on the chair as he begins undoing his pants, “But I have no intention of not showering you with the praise and compliments you rightfully deserve, and I certainly don’t intend to leave you unsatisfied.”

Vex tries to keep her eyes from widening at the size of him as his pants drop. Well, it was certainly comforting to know that his cocky arrogance wasn’t compensating for anything, and the rest of him was quite nice as well. “You sound like you have some experience..” she breathes, watching, with quiet surprise as he falls to his knees in front of her, parting her legs on her own volition.

“I’ll leave that to your judgement” Percy grins as his eyes gleam up at her, before turning his focus on the area between her legs, already wet with anticipation. With his hands on her thighs, he pulls her closer, until the bottom half of her is nearly off the bed, as he presses his tongue against her. Vex gasps softly as she falls back on her elbows, watching intently as Percy laps at her, flushing softly as his eyes look up to meet hers.

“Percy..” she moans his name as he takes her clit between his lips and sucks, making her fall back against the bed as she grinds against his mouth, “fuck that’s good..” 

He keeps it up, pressing two fingers with relative ease inside her, curling them against the spot that makes her bite back the urge to scream out in ecstasy as he keeps swirling his tongue around her clit. One of her hands eventually finds it’s way to his hair, gripping the short, silky white locks in a tight grip as she reaches her peak. And he doesn’t stop until she makes a mess that drips down the inside of her thighs that he is more than eager to clean up himself.

“Oh gods..” Vex sighs breathlessly as she sits up on the bed, albeit a bit shakily, “you are off to a very strong start, Mr. Fae.” Percy grins as he wipes the mess off his face before finally climbing onto the bed himself.

“Like I said,” he hums as he reaches forward to brush her hair out of her face, “I want to make sure you get satisfaction out of this.”

Vex smiles as she takes his hand away from her face and guides him to lay against back against the bed before straddling his hips, “You’re certainly proving to be a man of your word,” she takes his cock in hand, relishing the soft gasp that comes out of his as she lowers herself down on him, “but now it’s my turn to take the lead.”

“You won’t hear any complaints from me,” Percy grins, though it soon turns into a satisfied groan as her tight heat surrounds him, his hands reaching out to hold her hips as she lowers herself down until she’s sitting on his lap. She takes a moment to adjust to the sensation of being filled, rocking her hips against his until the slight discomfort makes way for something far more pleasurable. Finding her rhythm, Vex leans forward to brace her hands against Percy’s chest, rocking her hips with more intent, gasping as each thrust presses against her g-spot. 

Percy can barely take his eyes off her as his blunt nails dig into her hips, rocking his hip up to meet her movements. The way the moonlight creeping in through the window gave her body an ethereal glow of her own, the light glow of her eyes that came from her dark vision, the way her hair fell in messy waves each time she rocked against him. Even the most beautiful of the faefolk couldn’t compare to her in this moment. 

“Percy..” she groans, her nails scraping against his chest, “I’m close..”

“Go ahead,” Percy moans, his hands trailing up to caress the curve of her breasts, brushing his thumb over her nipples, “You sounded so beautiful the first time, now I want to see for myself.”

It doesn’t take much longer after that before Vex is clenching around him as her second orgasm of the night spills around his cock, and the sudden tightness she provides makes Percy let out a low groan as his own release hits him hard and fast, spilling into her.

Vex gasps as she feels the heat of his release fill her, and her thighs grow shaky as she falls forward to rest against him, both of them taking a moment to collect themselves.

Silence passes over them for a few minutes, until Percy decides he’s had enough of it. “Well..” he starts, “that was quite nice.” 

Vex can’t help but snort out a giggle in response, and soon Percy can’t help but laugh with her. “Yes,” she chuckles, rolling off of him to lay down and stretch out beside him, “I certainly have to agree.”

“My apologies,” he smiles lightly, “I’m usually more eloquent than that. So..” he glances down at her stomach before meeting her eyes, “when should you know if it took?”

Vex shrugs, “Usually about a month or so..” she pauses, thinking for a moment before she continues, “but to be fair, for most people, it usually takes more than one try to make a baby.”

If Percy’s eyes light up with interest, he tries to hide with a polite nod of understanding, “I see...well, it would be in our best interest to not make assumptions then.”

Vex smirks lightly as she nods in agreement, “It certainly would be...just to be sure to let me know when I can expect you next time.”

Percy chuckles as he reaches out to take her hand, “Fair enough,” he smiles before pressing a kiss to her knuckles, “though just so you’re aware, you can also call on me whenever you please. One of the perks of knowing a fae’s true name.” Vex smiles with interest before letting out a small yawn.

“Good to know..” 

Her fae’s smile softens as he sets her hand down and strokes her hair out of her face, “I’ll see you soon, Vex.”

And when Vex blinks, he’s gone.

She sighs softly, comfortably blissful as she drifts back off to sleep, the sounds of the forest clear in her ears.

[my-whumpy-little-heart]

Persistence - 7

@badthingshappenbingo square “Public Humiliation” requested by: Anonymous 

(white dots are requested, red dots are filled. Request with an ask, specific story or character optional)

Wow. It’s been a minute or two, but I’m back from the land of schoolwork and stress! If you need to catch up or read previous parts, this story now has a masterlist!

Tag list (dm or ask to be added or removed, especially since it’s been so long): @whump-tr0pes​, @burtlederp​, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​, @doitforthewhump​, @shameless-whumper​, @endless-whump​, @theycomeinthrees​

CW: creepy whumper, noncon (nonsexual) touching

“I-I didn’t, it wasn’t, my fault… it h-hurt and I-” 

“-need to learn how to cooperate through pain, you mean.” Percival cut him off and finished the sentence for him. “I know that’s hard for you, but following orders is of no use if you can’t do it whenever I need you to. So, dear, that’s what we’re going to work on right now.”

“Lucky for you and that lovely voice of yours, I’ve brought you some fresh water to drink before we go. Boiled from seawater of course, but made specially for you,” Percival said, head held high like he should be winning some kind of award for his supposed kindness.

He pulled Floyd’s head up from the table as far as he could and cradled it with one hand, holding a cup up to his lips with the other. His captive shrunk back, eyeing it warily, and he sighed.

“Obviously you’d never know if I put anything unsavory in this, but there’s no reason to refuse it. Not like you have a choice in the long run... I either force this down your throat, or you drink it and be grateful for my generosity.” he said, pushing the water back up. After a moment, Floyd opened his mouth to accept it.

After a moment of letting it settle in his mouth, he was relieved to see that Percival really hadn’t done anything to taint it. Or, if he had, it wasn’t something he could taste. He swallowed quickly, opening again and greedily gulping down the rest of the water. When another full cup came right after, Floyd downed it halfway before Percival took it away. He whined from the back of his throat, and the other man chuckled.

“There you go. And now you say…?” 

“...thank you.” It was still raspy and nearly inaudible, but the cup came back and he drank the rest of the water to the sound of gentle praise from his captor. 

It wasn’t nearly enough to satiate his thirst, but it was something to cling on to in hopes that he might earn more. Percival finally let him off the table after that, loosening straps to reveal reddened wrists. It was a small reprieve in the big scheme of things, but it was nice to be rid of some discomfort even for just a moment. He rolled to sit up, but sore muscles protested, the brunt of his efforts the past day just setting in. 

Percival stood above him with the leash once again in hand, clipping it onto the metal ring of his collar and tugging at it.

“Come on, up you go. In light of recent events, I’ve decided that you and I are going for a walk after all. Not a proper one, not yet, but I’m sure you’ve been itching to stretch your legs.”

Floyd sat up unsteadily, arms shaking when he used them to prop his upper body up. It got worse when he tried to roll on to the balls of his feet, nearly losing his balance multiple times before he was able to stand. He leaned carefully against the table as he stretched each limb, trying to alleviate some of the soreness from the previous night.

A harsh tug on the leash sent Floyd stumbling forward before he was ready, forced to either get his feet under him or fall face first to the floor. Percival strode forward faster than wobbling legs could carry him, and he limped uncomfortably just to avoid being choked. They managed to make it out to the hallway before he really started lagging behind.

“Benedict, sweetheart, what’s the matter? You do know I’m terribly busy, and if you keep walking so slowly I’m going to assume you don’t respect my time.” He laughed like it was funny, and Floyd cracked a bit at that. In his right mind he wouldn’t have fought back, but maybe if he could just defend himself for once...

“I-I can’t go faster-” he said, but Percival spoke right over him, not batting an eyelash at the protest.

“Oh, you poor boy. Fine, then. If you want to take your time that badly you’d better get on your knees.” He went rigid at that, dignity defensively taking the reins. “I told you to kneel, Benedict.”

A sharp yank down on his leash punctuated the biting words, choking and pulling him forward. Floyd’s knees buckled and hit the floor hard, pulling a gasp from him that he breathed out in a snarl.

“Now crawl,” Percival commanded, tugging so hard that the collar pressed into the back of his neck, but his captive still refused to move. Nails and knees scraped against the wooden floor as the leash won over his undernourished, exhausted body. When he realized it would only be more difficult to resist at this point, he hesitantly leaned into a step, and the sheer relief at the loosening tension only fueled him to take another.

“That’s it,” he praised, “my good little pyro, there you go Benedict.” And Floyd flushed a bright rose color at the patronizing encouragement, but his resilience had run thin. He shuffled slowly through the dust and grit on the floor, only speeding up at insistent tugs on the lead. 

In the hallway around him, a few crew members strode by, making casual conversation with Percival as if Floyd wasn’t even there. One in particular stared down at him and made a comment about, “how cute that new one is! How long do you think it’ll last?” And though he already thought he was going to hurl at hearing that--and he certainly would have, if he had anything in his stomach, at least--he felt the urge twice as strong when his captor just gave an ambiguous shrug and continued on.

When they finally exited the cabin, Floyd expected to see the darkness of night after he’d spent all day tied up and kneeling, and definitely had not gotten a full night’s sleep when he fell unconscious. So when the bright summer sun hit him at full force, he hissed and squinted his eyes shut against the assault on his senses. He brought hands up to shield his watering eyes, but the pull on his leash was back and he didn’t have time to stop himself before the sheer force tilted him off balance and he fell.

Floyd turned his head to the side at the last moment and his temple took the brunt of the impact, dull, rattling pain exploding into a burning ache as he sprawled out defenselessly on the splintering wood. He was quickly hauled forward and scrambled to get his limbs back under himself.

“Nonessential shifts dismissed from work!” Percival called out above him, “Be back at the next bell, or join me at the bow for a show, if you prefer.” The smile was evident in his voice, and Floyd could see the front of the ship quickly approaching through his teary, blurred vision. A small crowd of spectators gathered around, poking, prodding, and kicking at him as he crawled.

Throbbing knees carried him the last few feet to where Percival was waiting and directing other members of the crowd. The leash came off, but suddenly Floyd’s hands were taken from under him and wrenched above his head, and other arms pulled him forward to the bow. The wood stretched out in front of him above the sea, and tight grips looped his arms around it. Rough ropes cinched around his wrists and wrapped around metal loops, pulling him farther off the deck. 

When they reached for his ankles, he panicked. He flailed, shouting and seething as he realized what they were going to do to him. A swift backhand across the face stung, stunning him along with the subsequent punch to his midriff. He stopped kicking long enough for his ankles to be secured around the bar, effectively suspending him.

Floyd’s core was tight and sore as he tried to hold himself up and retain any dignity, but it was proving impossible. Gradually, under the amused watch of the pirates behind him, he sagged against uncomfortable bonds and stared down into the churning ocean waves below. 

That’s all that was here. It was him, the ocean, and his shoulders and thighs that were certainly about to be pulled from their sockets. He guided himself through a series of shuddering breaths to shut out the world for however long he could, closing his eyes, but flinching violently when a hand clamped around his calf.

“You still with me, Benedict?” Percival’s voice, rough and deep, cut through his concentration and Floyd elicited a startled gasp. Aches and pains returned tenfold without the unsteady haze, and raucous laughter of Percival’s crew returned to the forefront of his mind. 

The fact that so many people were watching him, half naked and vulnerable, already weak from torment, and surely about to suffer further, made him want the ropes to fall away and let him tumble into the hungry abyss of the sea.

“Come on, sweetheart; pay attention or you’ll never make it down from there.” he sang a chastising melody, and Floyd nodded, if only because of the blatant threat in his captor’s words.

“I- hhh, I’m listening,” he said, voice small and shallow. Breathing was difficult with the collar’s weight still around his neck, and speaking even more so.

“Ah, I’m glad,” Percival squeezed his leg in a false display of comfort. “Look in front of you at those ropes. You may not be able to see it from your fortunate position, but they’re suspending a bucket of seawater above you. Once you burn those ropes, you can come down. But until then you’ll be our little figurehead, won’t you?”

“I don’t- please, I can’t even use this, I don’t know how to do magic, or what I...I...” 

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have resisted when I tried to help kindle your flames earlier then, hm?”

“Look, I’m sorry, but it hurt and- I’m just sorry okay? I can- I can work harder, just please tell me what to do.” Deep breaths punctuated short phrases as Floyd spoke. Despite his shame at asking, he wasn’t going to get through this without help.

“Mmh, as intoxicating as your pleading is, Benedict, I do have a commitment to uphold. Just… think warm thoughts.” The smug satisfaction in his voice was infuriating, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Floyd set himself to the impossible task. The faster he could finish this, the sooner he could get out of this awful predicament. He focused inside himself, reaching for that vague feeling he had felt when Percival was searching for his magic earlier. When the other pirate did it, it felt like a violation. But now, he felt almost at ease with himself when he sensed the magic somewhere deep in his gut, coiled and docile. 

He reached for warmth and found it there, still just as it had been left. A twitch of his fingers brought it to life, and he focused hard on spreading it through his body.

A sudden pain slashed through his thigh and he cried out in agony, wailing against the stinging sensation of a knife’s cut. Fingers smoothed over the wound and he wanted to scream when Percival spoke.

“Oh, look at you figuring it out! There’s definitely a bit of fire running through those veins yet…”

Floyd set his jaw and tried to get back into that introspective headspace, but it seemed like every time he grabbed hold of his power, another cut would slice through his skin. Different hands every time, pressing deep, heavy wounds into his back or long, shallow ones across the backs of his thighs. A few buried themselves into the soles of his feet, wrenching howls from deep within him. Laughter from the gathered crowd reminded him constantly of his audience, all lusting after his blood.

“You know, the longer you take to finish, the more cuts you’ll have open for that water to dribble into. Just thought you might like the reminder,” Percival commented after a while. He was dehydrated, and delirious from blood loss and lack of sleep combined. Every aching joint and muscle was telling him to just pass out and avoid the suffering, but every subsequent cut jerked him awake with further discomfort and unwanted awareness.

Magic flowed within him like the tide, rushing in and flowing right back out until finally he held a firm grasp on it. His skin was slick with sweat, the water his body didn’t have beading on his forehead and arms, and driven to burning temperature by the sun alone, but he still felt the sparks when they erupted from his fingers. Knives struck against his skin, but Floyd buried deep into his focus and opened his eyes.

In front of him, the rope holding the water held tight against the bow, but it was tense. Going off of instinct alone, he gestured lightly with his restricted hands and stared a hole into the pole where the rope looped around. Sparks burned brighter and hotter against his skin and, in a blink, the rope had caught fire. It was much higher up than he intended, but Floyd felt a tiny pang of joy at actually having managed it. He held the fire as steady as he could, channeling more power into it so it would burn faster and finally get this over with.

It was only after the fire spread across the entire rope, nearly catching on the bow, and one point finally broke that he remembered what awaited him when it finally burned through.

He heard the bucket flip above him, felt the splash of water, and it was fine, and clean, and cool against steaming skin. 

But then it was acid.

He felt every individual cut as it lit up and he arched his back against the sensation of sizzling and searing pain. And he wailed, drawn out and desperate, tears spilling and breath hitching, only making him cry out harder. The ropes around him slid back, loosening and hands were pulling him back onto the deck, but the moment he felt wood under his feet he collapsed against it. 

He keened when Percival knelt down and used his bleeding back as a support, and choked it into a whine when emotion tightened his throat. He’d never felt so weak and disgusting in his life. He was crying and sniveling on the ground, not even able to kneel or cower away as the stifling heat of the crew crowded around him, watching him devolve and break.

“...so proud of you, Benedict,” Percival’s soft laughter was low in his ear, fingers pressing over his back and into his hair. One looped around the collar and pulled it back until he raised his head to make eye contact. “You’re gonna make such a good mage for me, aren’t you? Just for me, that’s right…”

Somewhere just beneath the surface Floyd desperately wanted to shake his head no, no, please no... but he settled for dry heaving onto the floor next to him before blacking out.

Next part

[kaiser-dracon]

Chapter XLIV: The Event Horizon’s Sneak Peek

Van Eltia - Night before reaching Zekson port

Under the starry skies, Van Eltia sailed onward into the horizon. Laphicet came out to the deck to take a gander at the moon. To his surprise, Avernus was alone at the bow of the ship, stargazing. Laphicet wandered to his side.

“Hey, Phi.” His eyes were still fixated on the shining white orb. “Moon always radiates pure light, even when I face away into night’s dark,” Avernus said, his tone booming with a grand spirit.

Laphicet nodded. “Yeah, it’s more beautiful than the whole stars combined.”

“My mom would always say, the moon comes to the sky like a mother comes to sing a soft lullaby, to ease her children into a star-filled night.” Avernus chuckled, turning to Laphicet. “Because of my mom, I always pictured it like a lone mother, who shines over her children down below, giving them hope during their darkest hour.” Avernus shifted his eyes back to the moon and smiled faintly. “But the only thing we can do is smile back at her from afar.” 

The gentle wind billowed the sails and deck, making Avernus’ untamable golden locks of hair dancing around in the wind.  “That’s nice…” Laphicet said, watching Avernus walking to his side.

“You’ve come a long way, Laphicet.” Avernus’ soft expression shifted, turning more casual and confident as his eyes clung to Laphicet’s gaze with praise. “You have matured into a fine young man.”

His compliment felt empowering, giving Laphicet even more determination.“Thanks, even though we traveled all over the world, I feel that I still don’t know anything.”

“That’s how life is. Believe me; adults never say enough to youths. They always have to fill in the blanks on their own.” Avernus leaned on the mast with one leg up against it. “When I was fifteen, I have already known most of the tricks and artes people, and malak could’ve taught me. I wanted to take on the world on my own. Couldn’t wait to go out and be the hero.” Avernus sneered. “Little did I know that I wasn’t ready, but it’s not about being prepared. You make mistakes, you learn from your them and grow. That’s how life is.; it’s all about the journey.” 

Avernus’ speech was lined up with his memories and experiences. They shined like a clear crystal in his mind.“You’re right. If it wasn’t for Velvet rescuing me, I wouldn’t have this life. She gave me nothing but encouragement and kindness, and I’m grateful for that.”

“Velvet wouldn’t call that rescuing.” Avernus chuckled at the thought. “Kidnapping was what said to me.”

Laphicet laughed, eyes beaming. “Then I guess I was lucky to be kidnapped.”

Avernus sighed. Laphicet could sense a thousand knives piercing his heart, but there was also hope in his words. “Velvet thinks she is living a selfish life. She’d tell you that she’s the worst, miserable human being that ever lived. But I can see the glimpse of her true self, always.”

Laphicet shifted his eyes intuitively to the moon. “Yeah. Like a bright light in the dark. That how I always see Velvet.”

Avernus heaved a sigh, mild expression of worry waving behind his eyes. “I wonder, what sort of future will all this give rise to when we deal with Innominat and Artorius?” Avernus shut his eyes, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. “The cycle would end, but it’s possible that nothing at all will change. Prince Percival is, but one man and words are nothing more than words. People interpret everything, even laws in whatever manner best suits their interests. Humans will lose their ability to see the malakhim and the daemons. There will be a blood bath.”

“Even so…” Laphicet murmured. His confidence matched Velvet’s determination. “Even so, I know you will do what you believe is right. Just as you have done till now by protecting Velvet and us even if you think we’re not noticing it.”

Avernus smiled widely to himself on satisfaction. “You have truly matured, Laphicet.” He paused for a moment before opening his eyes. As Laphicet turned to Avernus again, he sensed an indomitable determination behind Avernus’ eyes as his tone hardened. “I want to talk to you, man to man, Laphicet. I can take Innominat out of the picture without endangering your and Velvet’s life, but for the rest, I need your help.”

Laphicet gripped his fists. “Anything!”

“If I remove Innominat, his throne will be empty. Without an Empyrean to be the catalyst, the balance of the world will crumble. The world cannot endure the destruction that will ensue.” 

Laphicet looked at him, and he could tell a mix of truth and regret waving in his tone. 

“... A new Empyrean must take the throne; a malak of outlandish strength and unbroken will.”

Laphicet was sharp enough to understand his notion. “But I…” He lowered his eyes, breaking the gaze.

“I always wanted to keep Lailah out of the world’s affair, as my mother wanted me to be away from being a Shepherd. But fate, destiny, whatever you want to call it, wouldn’t have it any other way.” Avernus stepped closer. “I know what I’m asking too much, and I’m selfish, Laphicet, but know this; if you lose Velvet, it will be numbingly painful. The torment of failure will paralyze you.” Avernus raised his clawed hand, and a wave of Silver Flame danced around his fingers. “This power wasn’t the true answer… it was just a key.” He closed his fist and the light disappeared back into his body. “The key to giving humans a second chance to soar freely and not bind to some ideal that shackles their hopes and dreams.”

Laphicet raised his head again, staring with a mind clouded with uncertainty.

Innominat’s Celestial Body - Present time

The Menagerie stepped out of the wall of light and suddenly, they found themselves standing on a massive labyrinth, surrounded by floating enormous rocks and crystalized walkways. Rokurou quickly wandered to the edge and leaned slightly to look down. “Wow, do you guys know how up we are?”

 Laphicet and Lailah ran to his side and joined him. “We’re above the clouds!”

Velvet seemingly ignored them as her eyes probed the area. “It feels like everything’s hollow.”

“Suppression,” Avernus said. “Anything around here will be devoured right into his essence as we’re at the center of his domain… and his body.”

Velvet and Eleanor whipped their heads in surprise at Avernus. “Body?! What do you mean?!”

“Innominat pulled his energy out of the earthpulse and condensed it into crystallized mana, creating his body,” Avernus explained and turned to Magilou. “You didn’t brief them on the situation, did you?”

Magilou shrugged. “I forgot. Besides, it doesn’t matter, too late to turn back now.”

Velvet approached Avernus, shooting him a scolding glare. “Why you didn’t tell me yourself?”

“I…”

Velvet moved even closer with a few inches of his chest, frowning. “Are you hiding something?”

[thalsianiii]

Question for Creator - F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

New homie whom we just started following each other about 30 minutes ago, get ready for a ride.

With Percival, I have a lot of conflicted feelings these days.

I’m filled with Pride and excitement when I think about how far he’s come through the progression of RP. My first born son, my greatest written work. He was an awkward nobody, just like me. Through the years of events, interactions, and game play he has become this villainous entity that people knew about. He got referenced in other peoples story arcs and progression. His reach has far exceeded his grasp and I think that’s such an amazing thing. Characters like @serelia-evensong, may have only had one or two small interactions with Percival, for example. But parts of that character were fundamentally changed and became a part of their persona. So yeah, lots of pride that I created a character that could influence the world of the community I’m in.

But there’s also a lot of loneliness that comes with him now. I have ideas for his future, his story, but no longer feel as though I have the means to execute them anymore. Those interactions I had before that make me so proud, are gone. I have no one to fight against and build up their character through their tragic defeats or heroic triumphs. He’s a villain with no one to hurt. I had a dream of becoming a character people could approach and indulge in conflict so they could be heroes. But instead he sits waiting for something that never comes. I have goals for him, but I don’t have a group to explore them with.

Of course I’m still blessed with a few close friends who I can RP with and we do. So don’t feel as though I don’t see and appreciate those people.

Maybe he’s reached an apex of written power that makes people hesitant to approach him. Perhaps, through character arcs and guilded events he’s become beyond what the average player character should be.

It’s almost allegorical when he sits atop his tower watching the world go by.

Egotistical as it may sound, It’s lonely at the top.

[ijustwant2write]

The Silent Maiden-Sir Leon x Reader

(GIF credit to @gwainegetoutofmyway)

Masterlist

Summary: requested by anonymous: ‘Hey could you like maybe do like something with Sir Leon and a nervous reader if you could? Also your work is really good.’

Characters: Sir Leon x Reader, Merlin x Reader (platonic), mention of other knights and Arthur

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: nervous reader, teasing, self doubt, confidence issues

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Good morning (Y/N).” Merlin greeted his friend in the castle kitchens, showing the exasperated look on his face.

(Y/N) smiled, quietly replying.“Good morning. Arthur already annoying you?”

Merlin sarcastically smiled.“Would it be a normal day if he wasn’t? He wants his breakfast served in the throne room with the rest of the knights.”

The young girls body tensed up at the mention of the knights, thinking of one in particular. She had always found them intimidating, not that they had ever given her reason to be scared of them; quite the opposite actually, they all showed chivalry wherever they were. But somehow she could never get her words out or even look one of them in the eye. Sir Leon, the second in command to Arthur, was the image of what a knight should be, courageous, bold, caring....handsome. Like many women, she took a liking to him, so it frustrated her to no end when her stupid brain stopped her from speaking to him.

“Oh, they have a meeting?”

“Yeah, so we’ll have to get this out to them quickly.”

She stopped putting away the polished cutlery, whipping her head around to him.“We? I have my own tasks this morning.”

“Please (Y/N),” he started to pile food onto trays,“I just need your help for this, nothing else today.”

Merlin could see the nerves building up in his friend, and although he felt bad for asking this of her, he also wanted to get her confidence to come out. When he first met her, she had hardly spoken, even Gwen found it hard to get her to speak. Some had even wondered if she was mute. But everyone was delighted when they heard their first words come out of her mouth, a sweet, gentle voice to match her delicate, beautiful face; though she didn’t speak much and turned quiet around those she didn’t know, it was just one of her traits now.

Merlin had a glimmer in his eye, and (Y/N) knew what that meant.“(Y/N), I’m sure that if you just talked to Sir Leon-”

“Don’t say anymore!” (Y/N)’s voice was never threatening, it was something she hated. No matter how angry she got, she could never express it properly.

“They all find you beautiful-”

“Merlin, stop!”

“I’m just saying-”

She stomped towards him, picking up a tray full of food.“Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Merlin smiled to himself, feeling slightly bad for teasing (Y/N). He knew that she would have to push herself to get out of her comfort zone. He wanted what was best for her, and he could see the adoration in Sir Leon’s eyes, especially when they entered the room. The knights were already sat at their round table, listening intently to Arthur. Leon tried to keep his focus on his king, but couldn’t help glancing over at the gorgeous maiden that had walked in. He had seen (Y/N) many times around the castle, going about her life as she did her chores. His friends had noticed this too, but could they blame the man? 

“Ah, Merlin. You finally obeyed my orders.” Arthur said as they started to serve the food.

“Did you have to drag (Y/N) in though? She’s surely got much better things to do than help you out.” Gwaine teased, winking at the woman.

(Y/N) ducked her head, not meaning to be rude, but she had to cover up her blushing cheeks. She was used to Gwaine’s flirting, it didn’t scare her or make her feel uncomfortable, she knew it was his way of joking with her; if only she could joke too. The men went back to talking as Merlin and (Y/N) continued to lay out the food, and Leon’s heart started to beat ten times faster as she leaned over him to set down his plate.

He looked up at her smiling.“Thank you.”

(Y/N)’s heart was also beating quickly, causing her to become skittish. She tried to smile at him, though feared that it came off as creepy. She rushed off to serve the others, hoping that this would be over and done with soon enough.

“Well lads, who is everyone taking to the Spring Festival?” Gwaine changed the topic, already wanting to torture his fellow knight.

“We’re not here to talk about this Gwaine.” Arthur sighed.

“What’s wrong Arthur, got nobody to take?” Percival joked, everyone rolling their eyes.

“Funnily enough, I’ll be taking my wife.”

“Merlin, (Y/N), you two going? Perhaps together?”

The servants looked at each other, before back to the men. Merlin chuckled, shaking his head.“No, I think (Y/N) has someone else in mind.”

She glared at him, and as soon as he realised this, he stopped laughing. (Y/N) turned her back on them, piling the empty jugs onto the trays to take back.

“Oh, does she now?” Gwaine kept on pushing.“And who would this lucky man be?”

Leon also pined to know who he was. Who would she be wanting? He felt jealousy, but had to restrain himself, knowing that he was being unreasonable. He knew that she wouldn’t answer, she was practically ready to dash out of that room at any minute; he felt bad for her, he wanted Gwaine to stop.

“It’s no one.” she squeaked out, keeping her head bowed.

“Alright, let’s get back to the matter at hand.” Arthur brought the attention back to more important matters, feeling that things would get awkward if he didn’t put a stop to it. 

Once Merlin and (Y/N) were dismissed, no one missed the way that the woman sped out of the room, trying to keep her head ducked down. She felt like her whole face was on fire after those comments. Damn Merlin for making her do that. She always went along with it, not wanting to disappoint friends; sometimes she would convince herself that this was the day she changed, this was the day she would finally speak up for herself, become a new women...of course that still hadn’t happened, and it was angering her to no end. 

“I’m sorry.” Merlin suddenly said as he caught up to her. He too had thought she would be alright today, maybe Gwaine’s words were too much.

“It’s not your fault, it’s me.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is though. Why can’t I be confident like other women? I can’t even say hello to the man in the market who sells me vegetables!”

Merlin felt guilty and sad for her. All she wanted was the simple things in life. All she wanted was a voice too. He wanted to help, but after all this time, he had a feeling that this was something that she needed to do herself.

The day carried on as usual. (Y/N) went about her chores, trying to erase the events of that morning out of her mind. Sir Leon was only trying to be nice, all he had said was ‘thank you’, that was normal. Yet why did her mind plague her with this curse? Perhaps she was actually cursed by a witch or warlock when she was a babe, that could be the reason! (Y/N) scoffed at the insane idea, telling herself not to come up with such fantasies to hide the truth.

“Excuse me, lady (Y/N)?” Leon hesitantly called out to her as she carried a basket of laundry down the halls. 

She halted her steps, turning to face him.“Sir Leon,” she dipped in a curtsy,“I...I am no lady. You know that.”

Leon smiled at the amount of words she had said to him.“I’m sorry. I always mistake beautiful women such as yourself as ladies.”

(Y/N) didn’t know how to reply, dropping her head down again.

“I’m sorry, I hope I was not too forward.”

She shook her head ‘no’.

“I was just wondering...that is if you really don’t have anyone in mind...would you care to accompany me to the Spring Festival?”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, panicking Leon. Her mind was in overdrive. Why was he asking her? She was a mere servant, he was a knight, no one had ever heard of that sort of pairing.

“Why?”

Leon leaned down to hear her.“Sorry?”

“Why me?”

He took in a deep breath, smiling to himself.“(Y/N), I don’t think there are enough words to describe how I feel about you. It has been on my mind for sometime, though I did not mean to startle you with a sudden confession. I figured that this would be the best time to ask you. I think you put yourself down too much when everyone around you sees the true you; you’re an amazing, beautiful, kind and caring woman, who I would very much like to get to know better.”

Although (Y/N) wasn’t a speaker, at this moment she truly felt speechless. No one had ever said such words to her, and she never thought she would hear them. Her heart was beating fast again, but it felt good this time. 

“Yes.” she had the hugest smile on her face.“I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you. It will truly be an honour to spend the evening with you.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Y/N) looked at herself for the hundredth time in the mirror, feeling the familiar sense of nerves again. She had worn her best dress, adorning her plaited hair with flowers; she hoped that it was enough for Leon. The week had dragged on after Leon’s confession, and now that the event was here, (Y/N)’s doubts started to creep back in. What if he had changed his mind?  What if he took one look at her and didn’t like it? What would other people think? Just as she was about to back out of it, there was a knock at the door, making her whine. Too late now.

As she opened the door, (Y/N) watched Leon’s expression closely, scared when she saw shock. Before she could apologise and protest, he spoke.

“You look even more amazing, I thought that would be impossible for you.” 

“Oh, th-thank you. Is it alright?” she gestured to the dress.

“It’s perfect. These are for you.” he handed her a bouquet of flowers, which (Y/N) smiled at.

“Thank you...again.”

“Are you ready?” he held out his hand to her. 

(Y/N) hesitated, staring at it. Her mind was conflicted, screaming at her to go, not to go, maybe, no definitely not; she put on a brave face, finally making a decision, the right decision for the first time in her life.

She firmly grabbed his hand, smiling widely at him.“More than ready. Let’s go!”

[agentdagonet]

so this may be asking too much but… Headset Romance: The love story of two people who have never met. With Agent!Harry and Handler!Eggsy

Okay so I know that this is several thousand years late, but I hope that it was at least a little worth the wait?

Headset Romance

‘You’re a bloody peacock and that’s somethin’ I’ve learned from experience, Galahad. The fuck did you say that for? He’s def gonna remember your sorry arse now.’

'I found his company degrading- I can get the drive without playing nice with an adulterer.’

'If you say so, guv- but if this comes back to bite your arse I expect the whole song an’ dance. An’ a stiff drink.’

'And how will I deliver these things to you, oh faceless one?’

'You’re a fuckin’ secret agent, I’m pretty sure you can figure out a private youtube link and how to pay a drink forward. Or just do the performance for Merlin- he’ll make sure I get to see it.’

'Alternatively, you and I could simply go out after a job well done like normal people do after work.’

'We ain’t normal people, guv- on your left, yeah good- and I’m plenty satisfied with this arrangement.’

'You could be further satisfied.’

'Did you really jus’ try an’ pull that one on me? Next you’ll be saying somethin’ about the many benefits of physical interaction. Upstairs, third door on the right.’

'Well it’s not as if I haven’t suggested such things before. Got it.’

'Good, can’t go back the way you came but there’s another stairwell down the way- go up a floor and go down elsewhere. Minimal interaction means you can’ just punch your way outta this one.’

'Fists are so uncivilised-’

'Or any of your gadgets, neither. Jus’ get home safe and drop that drive at HQ.’

'Fine. In repayment for you taking away all of my fun, I’ll be sure to send you the most awful thing I can find in-’

'Oh there you are’

'Shit.’

'Lemme guess, it’s the prick you insulted earlier. An’ he ain’t too happy.’ There’s no response, but the view from the feed is answer enough. 'Knock 'im out and get the fuck outta there. This cover’s a bust now, anyway so it don’t matter how just get it done.’ Galahad doesn’t acknowledge him, though he does knock the target’s lights out as quietly as possible before making his way quickly but calmly from the event. Small favours.

'So I’m expectin’ that song an’ dance before you’re sent off on your next mission.’

'Is now really the time to rub it in my face?’

'Are you dyin’?’

'No.’

'Bein’ pursued?’

'No.’

'Injured in literally any way?’

'Well, my knuckles ache a bit.’

'That don’t count. An’ my point is that now is the perfect time to rub your mistakes in your face like a pup who’s pissed on a rug. I dunno how you survived twenty-somethin’ years without me.’

'Merlin had hair to pull out. And I resent that statement.’

'Y'mean you represent that statement. An’ I’m buying that man a cake. “Congratulations on Surviving Galahad” has a nice ring to it.’

'In what way do I represent a pup? I’m perfectly grown, thank you.’

'Oh I know you are; you’re a big boy, ain’t ya? But you listen to very few people, an’ even then do things your own way, and then you strut your way home expecting a bone and a belly rub for a job well done.’

'I’m hanging up now- obviously made it to the extraction point; I’ll debrief upon arrival.’

'Oh don’t take it personal, Galahad- you know you’re my favourite.’ The silence on the other line was answer enough. Eggsy closed the feed and smiled to himself, happy with the successful mission. He’d only been Galahad’s main handler for a couple years, but it was easily the most fulfilling job he’d ever had. Percival took him too seriously, Bors was a bit obsessed with explosions, and Lancelot was far more pun than professionalism.

It also wasn’t a bad thing that Galahad was incredibly witty. And fit. And so out of his league it wasn’t even funny. One glance in the mirror when he forgot (He assumed he forgot; no need to make assumptions and make things worse than they were) that the feed was running and Eggsy was completely gone for him. Lust at first sight, when he’d already been enamoured with his dry wit, made Harry’s inexplicable interest in him the worst temptation.

But he didn’t know much of anything about Eggsy besides his sarcasm. Well, that wasn’t quite true either, Eggsy mused as he wrote up his end of the mission report. Eggsy’d spoken about his sister, and his mum, and about the Prick with a capital P he’d managed to get rid of when Merlin had hired him. He’d talked about loads of shit. Just nothing he thought was worth the kind of fuss Galahad made of him- Galahad, who had never even met him, and probably just had a thing for a bit of rough.

Not that that was a bad thing- but Eggsy knew he’d want more than a tumble with him and he just didn’t think that was possible.

'Eggsy, I have something for you.’ Merlin spoke from the doorjamb, ever-present clipboard in his hand and a smirk on his face. There’s a ping from his monitor, and Eggsy opens a file under the watchful eye of Merlin labelled 'He Told Me So.' 

It’s a simple video, a sheepish smile on Harry’s face as he sits in the Kingsman plane, doing these silly little waves with his hands while he sings 'you told me so’ in varying pitches at a whisper. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want the pilot (a mate of Eggsy’s named Ryan, not that Harry knows that) to hear him and turn around, he’s flushed from his neck to the tips of his ears. It’s actually adorable.

'I don’t know how you get him to do these things, lad.’ Merlin’s chuckling behind him, eyes bright behind his specs. ‘I can barely get him to show up on time.’

‘What c’n I say, I’ve got the magic touch.’

‘If I didn’t know better I’d accuse you of having siren’s blood- he’d do just about anything you asked of him.’ Merlin nods his head at the screen, where Harry is paused mid-song. ‘This being the least of it. He’s also instructed me, in this e-mail, to tell you that your drink will be waiting for you at the pub down the street once he’s back on home soil. And not to sound terribly cliched, but  am not an owl so stop using me to send messages back and forth. Give him an e-mail or something if you refuse to give him your number.’ He grumbled a bit (sounds suspiciously like you oblivious bastards) before wandering off.

Eggsy finishes his report with a smile, and places an order at the bakery he knows Merlin prefers.

Harry got off the plane at HQ early the next morning, sun barely over the horizon, and immediately went to debrief with Arthur. Merlin would be sure to meet him there, the way he always did, and then Harry would get to go home and sleep in his own bed. Sounded like heaven.

‘Now, Galahad, it seems like the mission went off without issue?’

‘For the most part, yes.’

‘The most part?’

‘I’m afraid that alias is unusable now- I accidentally compromised the mission but managed to work around it to fulfill the objective.’

‘Excuse me, gentleman- dropping off some reports for Arthur.’ A young man came through, dropping a thick stack of files on Arthur’s desk with a nod. Nothing in particular stood out about him, accent as upper-class as most everyone at Kingsman (with the one notable exception that Harry could never track down) and his clothes, though casual, were obviously of high quality. He was probably one of Merlin’s minions.

‘Ah, Lunete, thank you.’

‘Sir.’ In lieu of goodbye, he nodded at them (and exchanged a wry smile with Merlin, confirming his suspicion) before leaving the Dining Room.

‘Now, to get back to things- there was no “accidentally” involved in your alias being compromised.’ Merlin turned a severe glare in his direction before turning back to Arthur. ‘I reviewed the footage personally, and he brought attention to himself by insulting the target. Claims he found his company degrading, and could accomplish the task without following the instructions of his handler. In the end he forcefully knocked the target unconscious because too much time had elapsed to use the amnesia darts.

‘Well, as he did achieve the objective, we can at least attest to his being correct on part of that- though you did lose us a useful alias and years of work.’ Arthur turned to Harry, who looked sheepish for a moment, intent on opening his mouth to defend himself, but Merlin redirected his attention once again.

‘Yes sir, he did- but I’d like to bring something to your attention; glasses, please.’ They looked up at the hidden screen, which was now displaying the details of his alias’ file. ‘This is the file for Atticus Grey as it was originally constructed.’ He typed something onto his clipboard, ‘this is what is associated with that person.’

‘Well, this is convenient.’ Arthur muttered to himself, saying what Harry had been thinking. By some kind of divine intervention, it seemed that all of the people he’d made connections with through Atticus were either in custody or dead. The former of which was adding to the latter every year.

‘So, even though he did in fact ruin this alias, it’s not an altogether unsalvageable situation. Honestly, we probably would have scrapped this alias within the next couple of missions anyway.

‘However, with this alias being scrapped a bit prematurely, my team will need a few days to make the new alias as airtight as possible. With most agents off on missions we’re prioritising handling over our background work- when Percival and Lancelot return we should be ready for wherever you wish to send Galahad next.’

‘Forcing our Galahad into some down time, are we?’

‘No idea what you’re talking about, sir, it’s just procedure.’ There’s a glint in Merlin’s eye that says otherwise, but nothing he says will change their minds. This wasn’t the first time they’d pulled such tricks, merely the most recent. Arthur dismissed Merlin with a smile, and he and Harry finished their tea with non-work related chatter.

‘I have some errands- a few days home shouldn’t be too tedious.’

He was wrong. Harry Hart was many things and now he would be adding wrong to the list. A few days on home soil with no clear objective or clear end in sight was tortuous. He’d taken to pestering Merlin for updates every few hours, which had resulted in him being locked out of his office and the direct link from his glasses being shut off. 

‘Any reason in particular there’s a picture of Merlin’s face taped to that punching bag?’ The voice comes from behind him, bemused and unfamiliar, and Harry turns to find the minion from before. Shit.

‘Needed to let off some steam- Merlin’s decided to force some down time upon me, but I have nothing to do.’

‘That so? Still doesn’t explain why you’re punching his face like that.’

‘Sure it does- he’s insufferable and I can’t take it out on him in person.’

‘Isn’t there anything else you can do to pass your time?’

‘I’ve already finished all of my reports- and I’m doing the only other thing I can here at the gym.’

‘You could go for a swim- or the obstacle course! That one’s always fun. Or family to visit, or something?’

‘Been there, done that; and the obstacle course is only fun the first few times. Doing it on repeat for days takes it away. And no, they all died years ago. Just me and Kingsman.’

‘You need to get out more. Come with me.’ Lunete had one shoulder propped against the doorjamb, hands in his pockets, and a smirk on his face like he’s got a fabulous joke but won’t share it.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Well I was going to head home and hang out with my mother and sister, but you need a night out. Come on, then.’

‘I barely know you.’

‘First off, we both work at Kingsman, so how dangerous can I be to you; and second your file’s public to those of us in the Lake, so I know all about you- you could come out and even the score?’

‘I think you’re just trying to keep me from beating Merlin the next time he emerges from his cave.’

‘Eh, that’s just a pleasant bonus.’

Eggsy ended up bringing Harry to the first pub he saw between the mews and Kingsman- in the opposite direction from the one Harry’d left his “you told me so” drink at. It wouldn’t do to be recognised since he was doing some serious posh-acting; he didn’t want the jig to be up too soon. 

On the one hand, it was annoying as fuck to act like someone he wasn’t for longer than he absolutely had to. Arthur and his cronies were bad enough on site let alone out in public. On the other, though, it was probably the closest he’d get to actual spy work even if it was all for his own benefit.

But, even as they sat across from one another at a booth and talked aimlessly about nothing, Eggsy could see Harry relaxing despite himself. He’d talk about some mishap in R&D and Harry would laugh until he was wiping at his eyes; and Harry would tell some story about his dog (the fuck kind of name was Mr. Pickle, anyway?) which would prompt him to talk about JB, and inevitably end up in giggles.

Eggsy relished the opportunity to see what Harry was like outside of a mission, and what he acted like with someone he wasn’t strangely obsessed with. Now that he thought about it, Harry probably saw him as a mystery he wanted to solve. He wouldn’t be interested once the mystique was gone, no matter what he said to the contrary.

Even more motivation to make this mask believable. No way for Harry to connect the two.

Harry, on the other hand, was enchanted with the surprisingly eloquent man. He lamented not having met him before, but resolved to get to know him better now. Merlin certainly wouldn’t begrudge him a friendship with one of his minions, would he?

—

‘Lunete! Package for you.’

‘Another one?’

It had been a few months since Eggsy’d taken Harry out to that pub in the guise of Lunete- and for some odd reason Harry had decided that the best way to cultivate a friendship with him was through obnoxious souvenirs. The kind of things Eggsy thought of when Harry threatened to gift him with “the most awful thing” he could find in wherever the fuck he was for a mission. Eggsy wondered if these were Harry’s idea of good souvenirs and, if so, allowed himself a shudder at the possibilities “the most awful thing” suggested.

Today’s mystery package wasn’t very large- which eliminated another taxidermied animal- and it wasn’t very heavy- which eliminated a new creepy looking statue.

If Eggsy hadn’t already known Harry outside of Lunete he’d have run for the hills after the first package. There’s eccentric and then there’s eccentric and while the former was interesting the latter was incredibly creepy. As it was Eggsy worried about his sanity, though he probably shouldn’t, as most of the Knights had something incredibly strange they loved. Gawaine had a collection of cat statues, Bors kept bits of rubble, and Percival collected local animal teeth. He’d resolved to never ask where he got them, no matter how elegant they looked once he’d polished them.

The sight of them with bits of gum still attached made an impression, to say the least.

Steeling himself, Eggsy cut the tape and pulled open the flaps before he could talk himself out of it, one eye closed while the other squinted into the box.

There was a note.

Lunete, I saw this while in Switzerland  and was captivated before remembering that I had no one to gift such a thing. But I remembered that you mentioned a sister all that time ago, and picked it up anyway. I’ve no idea how old she is (for all your chatter you’re surprisingly difficult to get information from) but if nothing else you can give it to your mother or something.

Reaching blindly into the packing chips he grasped the first solid object he came into contact with. It was box-like, cool to the touch, and thus far made no noise which eliminated several possibilities- and pulling it out Eggsy gasped.

It was elegant, carved in cherry wood and smooth as silk; the designs were all floral, likely roses or carnations or something. It wasn’t the kind of thing Eggsy would have picked up on a whim, but the kind of timeless beauty he could see being passed down or inherited. Opening the lid, Eggsy was a bit startled to be greeted with music- who made music boxes this gorgeous? The tune was familiar, if a bit sped up, but he couldn’t resist humming along.

And then, giggling to himself, he penned a response.

Well, Galahad, I certainly have no use for something as pretty as this myself, and Daisy’s a bit young for it, but my mother will love it. Thank you for the rarity that is a gift that doesn’t haunt my (or the rest of us Minions’) nightmares. Seriously. They’re haunting. But I’ll certainly be that someone who’ll watch over you.

Gershwin? Really? Could have at least been a typical Mozart or something but you had to go and get something classy and unexpected.

—

Eggsy certainly hadn’t expected his bit of fun to bite him in the arse quite so immediately. Harry’s flirting hadn’t lessened any over the coms, but now it was accompanied by humming. Incessant humming that matched the music box that now lay atop his mother’s dresser.

'Fuuuuuuck.’

'I’m not your agony aunt, Eggsy, take your self-created issues elsewhere.’

'But he’s gonna figure it out, Merls!’

'Again, not my problem. Get back to R&D or research Galahad’s next assignment, I don’t care, but get out of my hair.’

'But you don’t have any-’

'Finish that sentence and I’ll delight in telling him myself. I’ll make a power point with all the evidence, and finish with your address so he can-’

'Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll just go curl up and die at my desk. An’ you’ll have to break the news to Daisy.’

'Far be it for me to interrupt your plans for spontaneous expiration.’

—

'So, Eggsy,’

’Don’ even start, Galahad. Up the stairs and to your right- the painting of some posh knobhead with blue boots is hollow.’

'You don’t even know what I was going to say!’

'Half the shit from your mouth during these missions is either you tryin’ to talk me out of the plans I make to keep your sorry arse alive, or flirtin’ with me despite the fact that we’ve never actually met in person. As you ain’t fightin’ the plan, I assume your next words were gonna be some persuasive argument about the pleasures of the flesh. Again.’ He let a little of his irritation slip through, though mostly he was just nervous about Harry connecting him and Lunete. He knew it would happen eventually, but fuck it didn’t need to be now. 

’… Got the file.’ Harry said reluctantly, almost a sigh, and for a moment Eggsy wondered if he’d somehow gone too far despite not changing his reactions to his flirting in the first place. 'On my way to extraction.’ The playful edge that had come to be the highlight of these missions was missing. A Galahad subdued and not in the I-made-a-mistake-and-got-briefly-captured-again way.

It left Eggsy feeling off-kilter. And incredibly worried.

'Job well done, Galahad. Debrief at 1000.’ Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything after all.

—

'Dare I ask what happened to put this kicked puppy look on your face, Harry?’

'I’ve been ridiculous and making unwanted advances on a man I have never seen.’

'You’re always ridiculous.’

'I’ve never even met the man and his voice is the brightest part of my missions.’

'As I’ve already said once of late I am not an agony aunt and I have no desire or true advice to give you. Outside of, oh, I don’t know, perhaps asking to meet in person?’

'He shoots down my advances-’

'Likely because that’s what they are? Advances, obviously geared toward a goal that doesn’t happen to stop at friendship or likely involve it at all.’ Merlin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, 'Why do you care so much, anyway?’

'Eggsy’s never treated me like a superior officer. He’s never acted like he was beneath me for being behind the coms instead of in the field. He’s honest and rude and makes me laugh and somehow I’ve fallen for him despite not knowing the shape of his face or the colour of his eyes- the timbre of his laugh is enough.’

'I was expecting something more like “he’s a shit like me and I don’t want to ruin our working relationship” but leave it to you, Hart, to make it about feelings. What kind of spy are you?’

'A good one, I hope, to have made it this far into my lifespan.’

'Only by the grace of excellent handling.’

'Ah, the great Merlin, so humble.’

'I was referring to Eggsy- you caused me to lose the last of my hair, I have no patience for your showmanship, and your unparalleled ability to destroy my tech means that I tolerate you at best when I’m handling you.’ And there it was, the shame, at reducing a brilliant handler to a seductive voice through no actions but his own.

'I don’t want to lose him.’ It’s whispered, eyes staring at a spot on the wall and completely missing the pitying look Merlin throws his way.

'Then be honest, you great pillock, and talk to him. Not your weird proposition shit, either- I have to go through your mission footage and some of that… You’re not going to get anywhere with some bad pickup lines and innuendo.’ Merlin pushes his glasses up his face and turned away, tapping at his clipboard, 'And that’s all I have for you today. Please vacate the premises or I shall be forced to do something terrible to another one of your fetishistic loo butterflies.’

'Fine, fine, I’m goi- wait, what do you mean another?!’

—

‘Eggsy.’ He’s holed up in a supply closet, as cliche as one can be, but he will be there for an undetermined amount of time and he is just absolutely done with the stilted, awkward, handling of this mission. 

‘Dare I ask, Galahad?’

‘I just wanted to thank you for putting up with me.’ He tries to press as much sincerity into the phrase as he can, hoping beyond hope that he can somehow repair what he hadn’t realised he was breaking. ‘I know that I can be a bit much, but I don’t want you to think that I’m this way with the rest of the Lake. I simply have no idea of how to keep your attention.’

‘It is literally my job, Galahad, to keep my attention focused on ou ad get your arse home safely.’ Eggsy was confused, and maybe a little hopeful. He’d felt bereft without Harry’s incessant nattering, but hadn’t known how to fix it- maybe this was it.

‘I was rather hoping to keep your attention while off-mission, as well.’ Eggsy nearly groaned, but took a moment to think on the situation. Harry wasn’t being actively flirty, the tone was all wrong; if Eggsy didn’t know any better he’d say that the great Harry Hart sounded nervous. 

‘With more soul-damaging relics from your missions like the ones you send Lunete?’ 

‘No- well, correction, not only with carefully-chosen pieces. I-’ Harry paused, and Eggsy realised that this was, indeed, an honest conversation that Harry was trying to have with him. ‘I would like for us to meet. Formally, face-to-face, give myself a visual to go with the auditory man who has consumed my attentions for quite some time. I understand that there is no reason for you to believe me, given my previous actions, but I’ll readily admit to having had no other idea of how to express my interest. Merlin can tell you that outside of a mission I’ve never been particularly graceful or smooth when it came to potential romantic partners.

‘I find that I’ve become enchanted with the idea of you, and would greatly appreciate the opportunity to discover if my fantasies even touch upon the reality of you as a person.’

Eggsy literally had no idea of how to progress from here. Despite his own infatuations with the man, he’d dismissed Harry’s words as empty and with this revelation had no idea of how to progress. Forget the conundrum of Eggsy and Lunete being the same person- this was a problem now, and Merlin had probably known all along and that fucker hadn’t even tried to warn him.

          'We’ll see Galahad,’ Eggsy fought to keep his voice playful, to not give away his scrambling for a proper answer, 'you’ve got to get your way out of this shit first. An’ maybe, maybe, we’ll see about gettin’ a drink or something.’ And now Eggsy was back to cursing his mouth for running ahead of his brain and making promises he probably couldn’t keep.

Harry continued to pretend that the pounding of his heart was due to his circumstances in the mission and not due to the tantalising possibility of meeting Eggsy proper at long last.

—

Of course, Harry had managed the near impossible and completed the mission both on time and without any grievous injury to himself. Or to his target, which was a positive as he’d been tasked with surveillance and strictly told not to engage which are rules the man usually took as a challenge.

Merlin googled at the record when it was brought to him, and Eggsy took a seat across from the man as he reviewed the contents.

‘He didn’t make an uncouth comment and get chased from the grounds?’ The again went unsaid.

‘No.’

‘And he didn’t continue to press you about going out after you gave him a solid maybe?’ Merlin sounded as incredulous as Eggsy felt.

‘Nope.’ Eggsy was in more than a fair bit of shock. On the one hand, Harry had achieved the objective while Eggsy had been in his ear. So that was a point for both of them, for Eggsy’s success as Handler and Harry’s as Knight; but the hows of it. Harry had done all of it because Eggsy had said they might get to meet if Harry did what needed to be done. The mere idea of getting to meet had given Harry enough cause to have achieved a nearly impossible feat for him.

‘I’m no’ one to butt into personal business-’

‘I fuckin’ know that, Merlin- you practically set this shit up by keepin’ to yourself.’ Eggsy grumbled, crossing his arms and slumping in the chair.

‘But perhaps, lad, Harry’s more than a bit serious about this.’ Merlin continued as if uninterrupted, and Eggsy looked away.

‘D’you really think so?’

‘The only way you’re going to know is if you actually talk to him and stop with this weird double life you’ve made for yourself and no,’ Merlin wagged a finger angrily, ‘I am not going to help you fix this shit. You dug this hole, make your own way out of it.

‘I certainly hope that you continue to inspire this out of him and he doesn’t corrupt you instead.’

Eggsy stayed in that chair long after Merlin had returned to his own tasks, wondering just what he was going to do. He had two obvious options: he could meet Harry in person and come clean- or he could really chav it up and hope Harry wouldn’t be able to see Lunete in Eggsy.

But, to be honest, Eggsy was getting real tired of having to keep track of who he had to be at any given moment. What Lunete knew versus what Eggsy knew and where they could overlap believably with them both being in the Lake. It was getting exhausting, and even with the possibility of losing Harry entirely through this fiasco, Eggsy was just. So. Tired. And maybe that wasn’t the best reason to stop leading a double life but it was the one he had.

          So, there, that was one decision made- a pretty big one, too. Now he just had to hold himself to it. 

But that didn’t mean he had to make it easy for the man; maybe he could get one last bit of fun from this fiasco.

–

Harry’s office at headquarters was very secure. Merlin never let anyone in or out without his say so, even when the door was unlocked he’d lock it just as someone was reaching for the handle just to be a shit.

So the box on his desk was a terrifying surprise. First because he’d had no idea that anyone had been in his office- but mostly because of the contents. The outside was so unassuming that Harry had reached in without a second thought and immediately regretted the action. 

‘What the fuck is this shit?’

‘It happens to be a gift, you idiot, if you’d bothered to read the card prior to sticking your hand inside?’ Melin chimed in from the glasses, and Harry flipped him off smoothly with one hand as the other shut the glasses down. So what if he was right, it was the principle of the thing.

Harry pulled out the thing that had stabbed his finger, and was greeted with the most obnoxiously American thing he had ever seen. Intricately carved, it would be a work or artistry if it weren’t for the obnoxious colouring. A bald eagle sitting on a branch, a snake in its grasp, with everything but the bird in natural colours- the eagle was painted as the Americal Flag. It was the end of a wing that had stabbed him, curled upward in a parody of landing from flight. It was atrocious. 

‘What. the fuck. Is this shit?’ Harry warily stuck his arm back into the box of packing chips, feeling about for any additional hidden monstrosity, but came up empty. ‘No note?’ Harry began to turn the box about, half tempted to “accidentally” knock the statue from his desk- but he knew that if it had ended up here then the sender would discover the untimely demise. And, heaven forbid, send a replacement. On the end that had been facing his chair there was a small note, taped and half falling off the side of the cardboard. 

Let’s play hide and seek, Galahad. You’re it. -Eggsy

Harry pulled the note and examined the writing closely. The ink was partially bled through in some spots, as if he’d hesitated while writing it, and it looked to have been written by one of the Kingsman issued pens- not the ones with the poison, but the ones used for official paperwork, with the combustible ink. Just in case, you see, someone ever managed to get their hands on confidential paperwork. Which eliminated a great many people, as the only people to use them casually were the Minions, who used them for everything by default.

As if sparked by this train of thought, the ink began to eat through the paper. Well, that route of examination was out. Eggsy had mentioned more than once the trinkets Harry would send to Lunete, so it was entirely possible that this gift was poking fun at his habit of choosing memorable items for the man, but to that end it also firmly pointed Harry to a particular collective of Minions: Merlin’s favourites. Unfortunately, codenames meant very little overall within the walls of the place- but real names were rare. It was far more difficult to ask after Richard than Bors, for example, because much like in faerie courts real names held power and were rarely shared.

So asking for Eggsy would get him nowhere, unless he was asking Merlin directly, but the man had been of no help thus far and would likely continue on that trend for a while yet. So he was on his own to solve this mystery. Which meant he had to rely upon his already collected knowledge far more than present clues.

Eggsy was a man with a simple- no, humble- past, who had come to Kingsman from the Army where Merlin had spotted him causing some trouble. Eggsy’d been confronted by his SO and had been quite contrite to admit that he’d been messing with the tech because he was bored and had lost his sense of purpose when those around him didn’t seem to care about the why as much as the when. He’d had a note put into his file, and Merlin had snatched him up immediately. Harry was still unsure of why Merlin had been watching the man in the first place, as there were so many people potential to sort through at any time and only a finite number of places to put them. Harry figured it was like applying to an Ivy League school you didn’t know was considering you. Incredibly selective- so what had pulled Merlin’s attention to him?

But that wasn’t the concern at the moment. With what he knew about Eggsy, could he find him on the grounds? What did he care about, what did he mention liking about Kingsman, where would he have the highest likelihood of spotting the man in time to win this game. Harry wasn’t even entirely sure what he was competing for- but he was a vain man and desired victory for the sake of it just as much as any prize.

Harry had never bothered to learn the things a Handler would- but he could strategise if he could only decide what direction to go in. Top to bottom? One end to the other? From the centre outwards, or vice versa? Simplest would be top to bottom, as the roof provided a finite amount of space he could go- so to the roof it was. He wasn’t so desperate as to climb the sides of the building, and opted instead to take the service stairs to the top level and find a window that overlooked a bit of the roof and meander is way from there.

Which actually ended up being surprisingly difficult, but once he had found an acceptable exit he also stumbled upon another note taped to it.

Let’s play a game, mate- well, another one, waiting in one spot is just so boring y’know? I’m hanging out with the rest of the Minions til ‘bout 3 where you left me my drink way back when. Find me. That little shit had been here, how long ago was anyone’s guess, and instead of following through on whatever his original plot had been had changed the rules. As if Harry had known what they were in the first place, but the point remained that he’d changed the rules without warning or explanation.

But wasn’t that just like Eggsy, to at one moment follow plans to the letter and the next follow Harry’s lead on a whim? The fact that they were always successful could more likely be attributed to luck than any actual skill, but Harry was willing to take what the universe deigned to gift him. So he huffed a laugh and made his way back to his office, checking himself idly in the window as he removed his tie and popped a button or two. Going around to a pub while dressed to the nines, while safe in a Kingsman suit, was making himself a spectacle and if he intended to actually find Eggsy he needed to be able to blend in- at least a little. He removed his glasses, and mussed his hair just enough that it looked purposefully dishevelled as opposed to perfectly organised.

Harry made his way down to the pub, one he frequented and thus was able to pull favours with, and nodded at the barman who smoothly slid his pint down the bartop to his waiting hand as he sat at his regular spot at the bar. No words having to be exchanged, which freed him up to idly glance about the room. There were some outside seats but it was easier to hide in a crowd, and easier still to disappear with staff constantly moving about, if you knew when and how to do so. Which was usually a skill Knights honed and Minions of the Lake dismissed as unnecessary. The likelihood of their being spotted, let alone pursued, was miniscule- so why waste the energy that could be dedicated to other things instead?

There was a group of younger people in the corner booth, only a half dozen or so, about half wearing very familiar glasses. Now to spot his target proper. There was a young woman leaning intimately into the side of one of the men without glasses, with dark brown hair and pale eyes. That was Agravaine and Blanchefleur, then, as they were the topic of many Knights who were critical of relationships from within. And, honestly, how did they expect to achieve any sense of intimacy with someone outside of Kingsman, anyway? But that eliminated two suspects. There was his regular pilot, Houdain, with whom he’d shared many idle conversations of the last couple years. His accent was similar to Eggsy’s, but not so much so that he could ever have confused one for the other.

Three down, three to go.

There was another young woman with short cropped red hair, sans glasses but obviously sporting a pair of Kingsman brogues, bent nearly in double as she laughed- inelegantly snorting. She slapped the glasses off the man sat across from her in her antics, simply by waving her arms about, and Harry was grateful to know that she was not a Knight. If she were in this collective she obviously had immense amounts of talent behind the scenes, but something like that could make or break a mission. Which was entirely off topic, but Harry’s head was running in a million directions as he caught sight of the last two members of the table.

One was a driver that he knew quite well, Ither, who had always been up for a joyride while escaping their pursuants. The other was Lunete.

So Eggsy had lied, then. He wasn’t here after all. He turned back to his drink as a way to distract himself, observing the condensation run down the glass, and pretended that disappointment was not a bitter pill to swallow.

 Except, suddenly, he heard a very distinct ‘you’re fucking jokin’, bruv!’ he knew without a doubt that Eggsy was in that group. His head snapped up just in time to see Lunete slap Houdain playfully on the shoulder, the latter covering his mouth with one hand while shaking with laughter.

‘Swear down, Eggs, I couldn’ make that shit up if I tried.’

‘The fuck was Lancelot thinkin’, tryin’ to make a jump like that in that outfit? She gave someone a lucky view, then?’ Ither looked as if Christmas had come early, a very Grinch-like smirk on his face at the thought, but Houdain shook his head.

‘The street was clear, luck with her, so she didn’t flash no one- but lots o’ people complained about the thumpin’ from the roof, next day.’ Lunete shook his head as Houdain finished, but Harry’s mind had stopped a bit before.

Eggs. Eggsy. Harry ran the facts over in his mind as he took another idle gulp of his Guinness; Eggsy spoke often of Lunete’s gifts, he obviously knew Harry quite well after all the time of being in his ear, was well-liked and trusted by Merlin (who else would he trust his oldest friends’ safety to, if not someone he trusted?), and suddenly he couldn’t unlink the two. Lunete was Eggsy.

Lunete was Eggsy.

Lunete was Eggsy and he’d already had a drink with the man and he’d never let it on. He’d not even hinted that he’d been hiding anything; to hide such a thing from a Knight was impressive in and of itself. He’d been sure to keep their interactions regular, had never hinted at- well, hinted at what, exactly? Had Eggsy thought anything of their pint, that day, and what of the gifts? Why had he hidden himself so thoroughly within the walls of Kingsman that it took a ducking scavenger hunt for Harry to figure it out? It was not as if Kingsan was particularly judgemental- well, no, that was a lie. Arthur was a prick.

Ah. Prejudice based around the way one walks. And talks. The things that are the quickest to reveal oneself as “other” in a collective of men from money. Arthur was quick to anger and quicker to insult, if only ever backhandedly, so the ability to blend in was imperative- he guessed- to Eggsy being able to do as he needed. Drivers and Pilots were often silent until prompted and prodded into speaking- a Handler was easily identified and exposed by voice. To affect an accent in the presence of those who would look down on you for being different was entirely understandable.

But had Eggsy truly thought that Harry would judge him in that way? Had he not been clear with his affections through the coms? Short of screaming it from the rooftops he’d done all he could to show Eggsy that he thought the world of him. But… but perhaps that was what had kept him away. If someone is showy, you never take their actions or words at face value. Never. It’s survival one-oh-one, and Harry kicks himself for not connecting the dots sooner.

Every bit of tension in his body began to loosen as Eggsy turned around, just enough for Harry to admire the cut of his jaw and the upturn of his lip as he winked.  At him. That cheeky arsehole. Harry didn’t hear the particulars, but Eggsy was excusing himself from the group with a smile and making his way toward Harry- and what was Harry going to say when he finally got there?

‘Hey, Harry.’ Eggsy slid into the seat beside him and nudged one shoulder with his own, sloshing what little was left in Harry’s glass. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

‘You led me here, and yet you’re the one claiming to be surprised?’

‘Weren’t sure you was gonna find that window, guv, but you managed that shit in record time you did.’

‘So you set me up to fail?’ Harry finished his drink before he turned and lifted a brow, and Eggsy had the gall to laugh.

‘Nah, I set you a challenge and you met it. Exceeded expectations and all that shit. So, now, I’m an open book- what d’you want to know?’ He lifted a hand to the barkeep and accepted to proffered drinks with a grin.

‘Why?’

‘Why’d I leave you messages?’

‘Why this double life in the first place? What’s the truth here, Eggsy?’ Harry looked away, tips of his ears pink, and Eggsy paused for a moment before speaking.

‘I was scared- terrified, even- of you connectin’ Lunete an’ Eggsy. You’re a posh man, you got class out your arse and you’re fit and funny and I knew you were leagues away from me in life. You’d flirt with Eggsy, but Lunete was a mystery an’ you treated him like any other bloke while at the pub an’ then started sendin’ gifts and shit.’ Eggsy ran a hand through his hair and looked ruefully at Harry, ‘You was thoughtful and flirty and it made me fall more for you that I had already.’

‘That doesn’t explain-’

‘Gettin’ there, Harry. Promise. When I started at Kingsman, I’d barely walked in and Arthur looked down his nose at me and sneered that he didn’ want to see my face again. I thought I’d been dismissed b’fore I could start, but Merlin drew me aside. Tol’ me to ignore Arthur an’ that he was my boss an’ til he said leave I weren’t to so much as think about the door. But,’ Eggsy shook his head, ‘he gave me the name Lunete, an’ said to make it someone Arthur wouldn’ look twice at.’

‘So you made yourself unremarkable.’ Harry concurred, and tipped his glass in his direction, but Eggsy shrugged.

‘I made myself what he was lookin’ for. Growin’ up at the Estates, after dad died, you learn how to read people an’ make yourself what you gotta be to get by, Jamal and Ryan know all the same shit I do- they just don’t gotta use it as often. But,’ Eggsy grinned, ‘to explain the rest of this shit you get a bit of a story.

‘See, you an’ I’ve met before all this shit. Merlin and I had a bit of a laugh about it once I’d settled in. Y’see, once upon a time,’ Eggsy reached into his collar and began to pull on a chain, ‘you came by my place an’ left this with me for safe keeping.’ He opened his palm, and Harry forgot to breathe.

‘Oh my god. Eggsy.’ Harry breathed, in disbelief at having forgotten the child. It was a memorable name, and yet Harry hadn’t recognised it when they’d crossed paths again. ‘Eggcy Unwin- you’re Lee’s boy.’ 

‘Yeah, an’ that’s the other thing- I didn’ know if you’d still fancy me, flirty and shit, once you knew that. Still don’t know, actually, but I got tired of pretendin’ at you. The way I figure, this shit goes one of two ways, yeah? Either we get on as mates an’ we move on, or this shit’s blown us to bits and we never speak again.’ Eggsy spoke as if either option was acceptable, but Harry could see the tension in his jaw and fondly thought of him as an idiot. As if there were only ever two choices when it came to life.

‘You’ve left something out, Eggsy.’ Harry spoke blandly, allowing himself a small smirk around the lip of his glass, before setting it down and facing Eggsy fully. He waited for Eggsy to look at him and not the tabletop, but he seemed to be doing everything in his power not to do so.

‘Oh?’ Eggsy didn’t dare look at Harry- he didn’t want a fatherly pat on the shoulder, or apologies for how his life’d turnt out- but when Harry’s hand landed heavily on the wrist clutching his glass his head snapped up.

Harry’s eyes flicked to his lips so quickly Eggsy swore he’d imagined it before there were lips against his own. Insistent yet chaste, Harry pulled Eggsy to him by framing his face with both hands. His fingertips cradling his jaw with what Eggsy could only describe as reverement. His eyes slipped closed, and just as Harry began to pull his hands away Eggsy made a soft noise of protest before leaning inward and pressing his insistently back. One hand held him steady on the countertop as the other wound itself into Harry’s hair as they began to lose time.

They broke apart to jeering from the other Minions, ‘get it, Eggs!’ and the two flipped the group off with a united two finger salute before dissolving into giggles.

‘Do they even recognise me?’ Harry breathed into Eggsy’s ear, and he shook his head in reply. ‘Well, they’re quite enthusiastic about your “getting it” from a man they don’t know.’

‘Like to hope they trust my judgement.’ Eggsy laughed, feeling high from the realisation that his antics hadn’t cost him a chance with the man before him. He pulled back, allowing himself to do a full once-over of Harry’s look- he looked gorgeous like this, ever so slightly undone, and Eggsy hadn’t let himself really realise it before that moment.

‘There’s never only two options, Eggsy. You know that as well as anyone.’ Harry smiled softly, running his thumb along his cheekbone.

‘Yeah, well, forgive me for puttin’ this option from my head after havin’ lied to you for so long. An’ forget the fact that  I’m nowhere near your league.’

‘We’re spies, Eggsy- lying is easy as breathing and takes half the thought of the truth. Not saying that I’m not a bit frustrated- but that’s more at my inability to be observant than your Parent Trap-ing me. And,’ Harry firmed the grip upon his face, ‘if I hear you dismiss yourself so easily again you’ll soon regret it. I love you, and if you find your own judgements are faulty then trust my own.’

‘You love me?’ Eggsy breathed, eyes wide like a child seeing art for the first time, and Harry allowed himself to drink his fill of the image before replying.

‘Well, I love what I know of you- both what you told me as Lunete and what I’ve come to know through our missions- and I look forward to loving the rest of you.’

‘Might take a while.’

‘Well, we have a while.’ The two pulled enough apart to finish their drinks, a pair of hands clasped between them as if to separate would break the spell.

[icharchivist]

Perhaps random but I think it would have been neat if the kid survived and Siegfried had to figure out how to be the main parental figure to a newly orphaned child (and the kid having found family with all the Knights and chickadees)

oH i lOVe the idea actually????

ok actually this. this inspired me a lot so, under the cut some thoughts about it.

Like, especially with the guilt... I think the thing with SIEGFRIED event is that since everyone was dead, he couldn't let the guilt weight on him and he had to move on yaknow? but seeing that Gunther was alive brought all the guilt back.

so i feel like if Licht had survived, Siegfried probably would have to wrestle even more with his guilt. There's also the fact that it means that right after his parents got brutally murdered, Siegfried would have taken Licht on the battlefield to finish it up, protecting the kid... could even see perhaps putting him in Vane's care (since he was the one who didn't have a responsibility to fight and Siegfried already trusted him at that point) for the end of the battle.

Meaning, that the Knights would have probably set themselves as close to Licht as early as that point. Lancelot and Percival would ask questions to Siegfried, which would be painful to answer about, but all of them would probably immediately have involved themselves with Licht to lighten up the burden on their captain's shoulders.

And Siegfried would have done as much as possible for that kid. Making sure he grew up well. With also the constant crisis of "i don't know how to raise a CHILD i grew up in the WILDs", and at this point he wasn't close enough from the Knights to really just, turn to them.

But i could see especially the vice captains notice his turmoil even if Siegfried isn't ready to tell them he doesn't know what he's doing, and both would start to involve themselves, pick up the little details Siegfried let through showing he's in distress and would work with it.

i'm not making a tangente i refuse but the idea of Percival knowing that this kid basically had his mother bleed out next to him because of a rebel civil war he was next to?? great now he worked his way from triggered to dotting uncle thank you very much for your time

to make it fair with the other two: Lancelot would also try to help out as much as possible and honestly i feel like Vane would have been around much more because Lancelot would talk about Licht to him in their downtime and i can see Vane force his way in in the captain's office because he made cookies and he thinks the kid needs it. (and well honestly with the fact Vane's parents ALSO died in front of him, he'd probably also be extremely dotting on top of his usual "good with kids" attitude)

Lancelot is the only one i don't have a clear idea of what he'd do as a babysitter type tbh (he’d give the kid a blade and probably propose to train him i think, to let out his feelings, which... works but probably would have to happen slowly, like. in a few months.) but i think out of the 3 he'd probably be the one especially seeking to know Siegfried's feelings and how he's holding up.

And i think Siegfried would probably open up earlier to them, and learn from them as he can, while also seeking guidance with King Josef and reading up a lot of books about it.

I also think there will be a conversation with Josef about how Siegfried mentioned that he expected he'd die any day so he didn't use to build a future, right? I think this is the sort of things that it's something Siegfried would reflect on again with Josef having Licht around, because now it is becoming clear to Siegfried that his life isn't just his own to live and die for now, but that he can't afford to die and let this kid alone again.

There's also the fact that i think Siegfried lives in the castle? as Josef's bodyguard, it's more handy, it's not like he has a house from his before-knights time and i don't really see him getting a special house when he can carry his duty in the castle. So it would be also a question of adjusting for a life for Licht in the castle as well, one that i can see Josef accept. Otherwise, Siegfried could wonder if it wouldn't be better for the kid to grow up in an actual house and probably plan moving out (which could set up a lot of guilt for later when Josef died)

But also there's the question of leaving Licht alone. because in the trauma of watching his parents die in front of him, i think Licht would also have a period of coping that would be difficult to adjust for. Even with Siegfried's best attempt to learn how to raise a child, nothing is really preparing him as how to raise a child with trauma. And i think that would be more complicated while Siegfried would also grow extremely dotting and probably hyperalert to the kid's reactions.

And Mainly i feel like in the first few months it would be difficult to leave Licht completely alone, so Siegfried would delegate as many missions he can to the vice captain in the first few months in order to stay with Licht. Eventually when Licht would have got used to the knights Siegfried would trust, there will be a rotation of taking care of him.

But i also wonder if keeping the child in the barracks is a good idea, i think the child should avoid places where fighting happens a lot in the first few months at least, lest it triggers him again.

So there would be a delicate situation to deal with in that specific period.

Overall though while it would be clumsy, Siegfried would learn how to help as much as possible. I don't think Licht would especially think that Sieg could have done anything to stop the drama from happening, but also we don't know Licht's personality at all so it's free game. Licht could initially had held a grudge against Sieg that Sieg would have to work with as well while he's helping Licht heal... so i feel like the kid would be really non verbal and sometimes a bit rebellious against Sieg early on, as a coping mechanism, until the two of them manage to communicate more. On the long run, Licht would no longer have any grudge and come to accept Sieg as a father figure.

I think eventually i could see Licht grow to want to be a knight as well, like his father and his new father were. Perhaps also in the hopes to not have the sort of things that happened to his family happen again.

NOW the other problem however lies in the fact that there's the whole "Siegfried being framed for the murder of King Josef" incident where Siegfried had to disappear on the run.

imo it's implied Sieg didn't have the time to adjust around that, since he was found on top of the corpse and had to run away immediately.

and it raises the question of what would have happened with Licht in that meantime.

So also for starter i think it would have added guilt on Sieg's conscious to think that maybe, if he didn't have to focus as much on Licht, he could have been there for the King... I mean WE know that wouldn't have changed anything, but Sieg doesn't.

Then, there's the fact Sieg really would have difficulties coming back for Licht. I'm sure people would already have told the kid of his crime, or would watch the kid closely in the hope to catch Sieg. As a result, Siegfried probably could not approach Licht at all.

if he could have, would have he taken Licht along with him on his exile...? Mhmm. I think if Licht came to find him on his own, perhaps, with a lot of protest from Sieg about making the kid a criminal with him, if Licht manages to follow his tracks.

Else if not... I could see Licht staying in the castle for a while. Percival would be gone but Vane and Lancelot would still both visit the kid i think. Both would still be aching from Sieg's betrayal but they are both mature enough to not project it on the kid after all. But both also do believe in Sieg's guilt so i feel like it would be tricky.

Like i think Licht may hold on to thinking Sieg was framed, but it would be difficult to make it through Lancelot and Vane. Lancelot was extremely stubborn on this topic and i feel like Lancelot would avoid the topic at all cost and perhaps even leave the room when it's brought up. He wouldn't want to be rude to the kid, maybe he'd lie with a smile that perhaps so, but i feel like this is the one topic he would have been able to budge from, even with Licht insisting.

So Vane would be the one trying to ease the situation with Licht, listening to him, saying that he wants to believe Sieg didn't do that either... everything is against Sieg though and he can't ignore that. But he wants to believe he's wrong.

And i think Vane's position especially, as he's not sure, would be really helpful for Licht because else everyone else would probably try to drive in his mind that Sieg is the worst and all.

I could especially see Isabella usually ignoring the kid as something that's none of her concerns, until she starts to realize what a threat he can be by thinking Sieg is innocent and talking about it loudly, or what a tool he could be against Siegfried if she plays her cards right. Thus i could see her try to manipulate Licht, drill in his head that after all, he let his parents to die, why is that surprising that he'd kill the king?

It'd be a lot for the kid to deal with, but i'd like to think that even if he became unsure, he'd stand by Siegfried. If only because, as his Dad:tm: Sieg would have talked to him about how close he was to Josef so this wouldn't add up.

In those years growing, if apart, Licht would focus even more to learn how to fight in order to find Siegfried again and get his answers.

Since Gunther and Siegfried both were knights i'm sure he would be taken into the order without problem, in a pre-Lancelot-allowing-everyone-in era of the Order. As an apprentice of course because he's still young in that timeline, but he'd work it out.

by the time of Defender's Oath, i'd picture Licht, hearing about Sieg having been seen, starting to insist to Lancelot to be let to join the patrols with them. Lancelot would probably refuse... and I think Licht would have learnt very well from Siegfried for the little time they spent together to completely disobey that order and start to tally them. He'd get his answers no matter what.

I can see Defender's Oath happening the same way, without Licht meeting with Siegfried until the end of the story, or him meeting him halfway through and learning the truth from Sieg and being relaxed. He knew it! He always believed in him he knew it!

After those events though mhmmm i don't think Siefried would like to leave the kid alone again but he did have a problem where he felt he didn't belong in the country anymore, which is why he joined the crew. I think he would have a hard time just staying in the country and would probably ask Licht if he wants to come with him. And i think we can have it in a way where Licht wants to continue his training as a knight, but also come to join the crew and visit once in a while to stay with Siegfried.

When the chickadee's crew get formed, i think Licht would be about their age wouldn't he? I think he'll probably join this special group, and kind of be the senpai of them all since he has good relationships with the knights.

I could see him not saying outright that he's linked to Siegfried: probably reminders of the time Siegfried was a parriah and Licht would have not disclosed that he was his adoptive son to try to keep a low profile. The moment the kids learn it though? especially Arthur and Mordred? Man the starry eyes are real! they'd be asking about it all the time!

Overall growing up i feel like Licht would stay more with the order than with Siegfried, in the hope to grow up as a good knight, someone who can protect others and all of that, focusing more on himself than on his family

but he'd always be grateful and loving to Siegfried and Siegfried would still be a dotting father. I can see Sieg bringing back so many things to Licht from his travels, like he does to MC in his birthday lines, especially good luck charms. They'd be really right.

And if Gunther reappears like in the event, it would be under the assumption he believes Licht died that day. Licht probably wouldn't get involved with the story of that event until the moment Siegfried goes missing, in which he starts to insist with the knights that he wants to join the mission. But hearing his own father is alive and is responsible for all of this? Would make it so conflucting for the kid to deal with.

I could see Licht staying restless but going with the Chickadee on their missions to find the alma, and come back in time to see Gunther basically torture and mind control Siegfried into a beast. I think it would cement him on Siegfried's side no matter what Gunther would say, and when he appears on the battlefield, would probably confront Gunther himself.

and there i feel like the events would be a little different as Gunther have to face the fact not only his kid is alive, but he disapproves of his actions, and refuse to believe in the guilt Gunther puts on Siegfried.

but ultimately i think Gunther would still be stubborn on his end... Unless?

that's about where i'm running out of imagination here ahah but hooooly shit 2k words on all of this.

I think it'd be interesting to see Siegfried grow to be a dad and see how Licht would grow as well. I think there's a lot of room for it to happen smoothly.

that was fun to think about at least! thanks for the ask nonny :3c

[queenofkings121-blog]

Duties of a Queen

[\Oh my gosh guys this is so messy! I wrote it in a walmart parking lot awhile back. Forgot about it til now. For what its worth, I hope y'all enjoy this./]

Warning: angst[?], violence [a but graphic]

A lone tear rolled down her cheek as she saw her betrothed placing a sweet kiss on lips that weren't hers.

'My heart belongs to you Gwen. It always has and always will. You know I'm only with her to secure the safety of this kingdom.

She knew that this marriage arrangement didn't begin with love, but she thought they had gotten there. She thought they were in love. Hell, they confessed their love for each other while in between the bedsheets the night before.

The situation would've rendered anyone broken, but Y/N wasn't weak. She straightened her posture, wiped the tear and made her presence known. Arthur and his lover were shocked. Y/N looked into the blue eyes she fell in love with. With a soft humourless chuckle she walked past him towards her chamber.

"Y/N!" Arthur yelled after her. He was hot on her heels. The prince nearly tumbled onto her when she stopped walking.

"If you are to apologize, don't. If you are here because of the treaty, leave." Her answer was simple. He ruined the chances of his kingdom being truly safe.

Y\N's kingdom, Nilanyth, was a small but lethal kingdom. It's got a quarter of the population of Camelot, but the 10 times the skill. All the citizens are required to learn how to defend themselves. Men,women, children. Its a four days ride from Camelot. With this alliance Camelot would've become the most protected kingdom.

Not only that, but what he said to Gwen wasn't the complete truth. Yes he loved Gwen, but he was happy and ready to marry Y/N. He was growing feelings for her but he's ruined those chances as well.

---

Arthur sat with his father for dinner but neither one ate. Uther because he had a lot on his mind, Arthur because the empty seat next to him was a reminder of his actions the previous day. He hasn't seen her all day and he could physically feel her absence. He would expect her to chuckle at something Gwain said, or reprimand Percival for being tall, but all he got was silence. It angered and saddened the Prince but he did not know why. He was about to speak when Y/N walked in.

She was dressed in her travelling gear and it confused both men.

"My King," Y/N said with a slight bow of her head before turning to Arthur. "Your majesty."

"Lady Y/N, is there a reason for this?" Questioned Uther.

"Yes, my King. I'm returning home. " Uther looked confused. "Before you say anything, allow me to explain." Uther nodded at the princess, all the while Arthur looked at her with a hurt expression. It was his fault.

"I will not marry your son. I simply cannot. I thought I could be in a love-less marriage but recent events proved otherwise. But the treaty stays. Nilanyth will assisst Camelot if the need ever arises. We will be allies and become a stronghold. Nilanyth will supply your people its protection, Camelot will supply my people with resources such as cattle and food."

"But your people are well off."

"This treaty is not onesided Uther, and I refuse it to be. My people are well off, but we do not supply without receiving. Selfish, yes, but it secures my kingdom."

"But it is not fair." Arthur piqued.

Aiden narrowed her gaze on the prince. "You know naught of being fair, nor taking care of those whom you claim to love. I do not expect you to understand this." She turned towards the king. "That is all. I return to my kingdom either with a signed treaty or not, it doesn't effect me nor my people at all. I'm merely doing this for your sake."

The King and Prince both relaxed their shoulders knowing that Camelot is safe, and it seems thats all they cared about. Her mother was right. True love is hard to come by when you're royalty. It seems everyone has different needs for a princess, but none for the girl.

"I bid thee a farewell and a safe trip back home Lady Y/N. The treaty will be signed before your departure. For what its worth, I am truly sorry that it didn't work out between you and my son. You would've made a fine Queen of Camelot." Uther replied. Y/N simply nodded and turned to leave. She desperately wanted the Prince to run after her and tell her that he made a mistake. That he truly loved her, but he sat still on his chair.

Y/N mounted her horse later that day with a stoic expression, and with a swift kick she left Camelot and the person who broke her heart.

---

It's been two weeks since the departure of Y/N and Arthur hasn't been the same. He's been moody, snapping at everyone, even Gwen. She was mad that Y/N could have such a hold on him even when she wasn't present. Her and Arthur fought more frequently, and made love less. When they did it was rough and quick, and void of love and affection.

Their fights have gotten more vocal and not a single ear within the walls of the castle were strangers to it.

"It's not a matter of you being a servant Gwen! Its a matter of you not being Y/N!" Arthur yelled and immediately regretted the words. The look on his loves face broke his heart.

"W-what?"

With a sigh, Arthur decided he needed to come clean. "Gwen, there was a time that I truly loved you. You were my world, but it seems that my heart yearns for someone else. Just as yours is." He wasn't stupid. He saw the glances and touches between Gwen and Merlin.

The two talked about what would happen for hours and came to a conclusion to end it. It wasn't healthy and they weren't happy together. Not anymore.

But Gwen went to her lover while Arthur went to his room. He wished to travel to Nilanyth but he knew he was unwelcomed. Especially after how he hurt Y/N. He knew he could go, but it would be for politics. Anything else, he would overstay his welcome. So, he settled for a letter.

---

Its been many moons since he sent his first letter. He would send one every week, and just like the week before, it went unanswered. He hoped and wished that she has been reading them. They would fall on deaf ears. He didn't expect her to answer. He heard of the passing of her parents not long after his second letter was sent. He desperately wanted to go and comfort her, but the funeral for the Royals was private. Only those in the Kingdom were allowed, and close friends of the couple from the other kingdoms.

The late Royal couple of Nilanyth fell ill with a sickness that no warlock, healer, or magician could heal. Y/N was heartbroken. She loved her parents dearly and to have them both gone crushed her soul. She knew the duties of being a Queen and King. Her father taught her that just because she was a female didn't mean she wasn't capable, and so he taught her the ways of a King as her mother did with being a Queen. He also taught her that having a man by her side is a mere accessory. That she didn't need a man to validate her. Her name alone should and is validation enough.

Y/N sat in front of her parents graves, along side of her ancestors, just staring at the headstones. A bitter smile came across her face.

"I miss you guys."

A warm breeze flew by and wrapped around the newfound Leader. The breeze was gentle yet had an aggressive feel to it. It danced around her, almost along to a song she couldn't hear. It felt like a hug from her parents. A hug hinting that everything will be OK. That she wasn't alone, never has and never will.

The Prince of Camelot seized sending his letters for his father had succumbed the same fate Y/N parent's had.

The two were now both crowned rulers of their own respective kingdoms.

---

Camelot was attacked by Morgana and her men and they nearly won if it wasn't for the warriors of Nilanyth. Just as they were about to slaughter the entire Kingdom, Riders of Nilanyth, being led by Y/N, rode in and swept the kingdom of the enemies.

Morgana screeched as she saw her people getting slaughtered by Y/N's warriors. Her eyes changed colors as she chanted a spell to discombobulate the new arrival. She smirked as Y/N's men fall unconscious. Morgana would've killed them, but she knew that whats left of her men would need morality boosts and in order to do so, they needed to kill. Morgana had just made that easier for them, but her thinking of her men would cost her greatly.

Y/N looked around and spotted the reason her men weren't able to fight. She charged her horse towards sorceror, but switched paths at the last second, riding for Morgause. Y/N knew that she had confused the sisters and used it to her advantage.

Y/N raised her sword, gripped the stirrups on her horse, and mightily swung her sword efficiently and effectively decapitating the blonde, as she rode by. She pulled the stirrups and signaled for her horse to stop and turn to face Morgana. She saw the black haired girl stare at her sisters headless body in shock. Y/N held out her blade and flicked her wrist, ridding her sword of the sorcerors blood, all while staring at Morgana.

From the corner of her eye she saw Gwain and Percival slowly approaching them. She shook her head and rode for Morgana once more, only to have her thrown off her horse by the use of magic. The Queen landed and hear a SNAP! and Y/N knew she had broken something, but she had a part to play in history and being dead wasn't it.

She had toughed through the pain, grabbing her sword and circled Morgana. The Queen ran and swung her sword purposely a bit too high. The force of her swing had caused Y/N to stumble forward. She turned quickly and aimed her sword at the enemy. Y/N looked over the sorcerers shoulder and saw the two knights in place. She stepped forwars and swung, partially hitting her target. She huffed and threw a steel star at Morgana. The latter turned her head and raised her hand to catch it. Just as she did Y/N rolled and sliced her sword towards the others midsection. Y/N ended on one knee, both hands gripping the handle of her sword, raised by her shoulder. She stood and turned to face Morgana. The sorceror laughed.

"You mis--" She was cut short as she coughed up blood. She looked down to her midsection and see her guts. Her eyes widened as she tried to fix herself.

Y/N raised her sword to her left, slashing to the right, cutting below her neck. Her sword flew slightly but she was quick to grab the handle, so that the hilt faced her, and swung her hand backwards sticking the sword into Morgana's head, ending her reign.

The two knights scoffed and Y/N smirked at them.

"She knew of your presenc. She assumed that I was going to be distraction, but distraction was not distraction, but merely a distraction to the distraction."

"I have naught a clue of what you just said Lady Y/N." Gwaine said utterly confused and tired. "Do you?" He asked Percival.

"I think?"

Y/N laughed. "Neither do I Sir Gwaine and Sir Percival. Speaking of distractions, where is your King?"

"He and Merlin are taking care of Mordred. Why do you ask?" Gwaine wiggled his eyebrows.

"Duties. Nothing more, nothing less."

The two Knights stared at her receding figure in thought. Both thinking it is shame that their King had let such a wonderful person walk out of his life.

[fictionalthrill]

The Auror (Series) Chapter 4: Early Days and Late Nights

Percival Graves Imagine

A/N: Sorry for taking so long on this one. It’s been busy for me these past two weeks. Still, I managed to work through with this piece. Fair Warning, some of the writing might be bad. I don’t know why but everything I’ve written lately has been a bit sucky, and this is an example of that. I don’t feel as confident as I did with the past three pieces. Anyways, I hope you still enjoy this follow up of the series; it’s really coming along. I feel like part 5 is going to be really awesome since I already have ideas for the events. 

THANK YOU TO ALL WHO’VE READ MY SERIES SO FAR. I CAN NOT THANK YOU ENOUGH FOR THE SUPPORT AND KIND WORDS YOU’VE ALL SHARED WITH ME. TAKE CARE AND GOD BLESS!

Description: Another week gone, but it has been an easy one. Y/N has been working hard to become an Auror, and the challenges continue to grow. Not to mention, she’s been on a constant search with Graves to find Grindelwald.

February 20th, 1928.

           It was early Monday morning, and Y/N was stomping through the streets of the city, in an eager mood to arrive at MACUSA. For the past week, Y/N had decided to endure early days of pure bitter cold, all to report over to Mr. Graves and assist his avid investigation of Gellert Grindelwald. He had never ordered her to present herself at such time, but she thought it was a good idea, seeing as he practically lived in his office, and they could use all the time they had. So, by six in the morning Y/N was out of her warm apartment, and in the freezing streets.

           The only thing about this morning were the sheets of snow that laid all over the sidewalks and roads. The outfit she wore was winter appropriate; but not this winter appropriate. Her coat was wrapped tightly around her body, but somehow the chilling wind snaked through the material. Her face was blocked with a wool scarf, but even so her cheeks and nose were blasting cold. And her shoes? In no way were they keeping her tingling toes toasty, instead, they felt like they were being submerged in a bucket of ice every time she placed a foot on the ground.

           In a moment, Y/N grew tired of the murdering weather, and thought of only one other way to get to work. Apparition. It’s never her first choice of travel, but in this case, there was nothing else. She did have her license and all, but she wasn’t really a fan. After much deliberation, she continued her path towards a mediocre alleyway, and before hiding besides a dumpster, she made sure no one noticed her. Within seconds, she was in another alleyway near MACUSA’s esteemed building. Steadying her feet, Y/N leaned against a wall for balance. Apparating was never complicating for her, but somehow, it always made her a bit dizzy. After a minute or so, she finally regained herself, and proceeded to enter headquarters.

           By now, she had gotten accustomed to her work local. She knew her place and her duties, and always remembered her ultimate goal. To become an Auror. There was no doubt she was talented, but the process to such a high position was surely challenging. There were times when her body was full-on ready to shut down during the lessons, and yet she never faltered. And just when she’d hope to be home in no time to rest, Graves would ask her to assist his investigation on Grindelwald. This very Monday would be no exception. Another day, more work.

           After finally landing in Law Enforcement, she cruised directly over to the head’s office, and sure enough, his door was ajar. A clear sign of his presence. Gently, Y/N approached the door and laid a soft knock on its surface.

           “Yes?” Was all the man said.

           Slowly, Y/N pushed in the door and looked inside. But when she stared towards Graves’ desk, her eyes were met with Madam President and the director deep in conversation. Y/N’s eyes stretched widely like those of a deer stuck in the headlights. Both figures just stared at her, and someone finally spoke.

           “Miss Y/L/N. You’re here early.” He stated.

           “Mr. Graves, Madam President. I apologize for the intrusion. If I had known I wouldn’t have bothered to knock…” Y/N uttered with a sincere voice.

           “Ah, so you’re the famous Y/N Y/L/N.” The President said evidently.

           “In the flesh, Madam.”

“Fantastic. Graves here has been rather resolute of you and your talents. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Madam told her. Meanwhile Graves had bowed his head, a bit startled by the President’s statement.

“He has?” Y/N asked curiously. She couldn’t help but look to Graves as she did. All he did was caress the back of his head and stretch his hand to point to her.

“Well, I’ve been keeping her in check of the investigation.” Graves shared, but he was a bit to uncomfortable to add more. One could say he was embarrassed, but he was far to composed to demonstrate such response.

“Yes. When Julius had recruited you to study Grindelwald, I never had the chance to view your investigative process… Now, I have.”

“Well, at the time of the investigation, I did most of the work from my home, Madam.”

“Still, you did an amazing job. And from what I’ve seen, and heard, in this investigation, you certainly know what you’re doing.” The President smirked at Y/N.

           “Thank You, Madam President.” Y/N responded.

           “As for what we discussed Graves, make sure you have more information before you plan anything. We need to be smart about this. Let me know when you’ve found enough to take action.” Madam President added while looking back to Graves.

           “Yes, Madam President.” He replied.

           “Now, I must go. You may continue your work. Good day.” The President concluded as she left the office.

           “I am so sorry for interrupting, Mr. Graves. It wasn’t my intention.” Y/N quickly said once she and Graves were alone. He had moved over to the board he had set up in the room. It was scattered with notes and images related to Grindelwald.

           “It’s no worries, Miss Y/L/N. You got to meet Madam President; she was eager to do so.”

           “I wasn’t expecting that. She’s quite graceful in person.”

           “Interesting choice of words.” He squinted his eyes a bit at her, “Anyways, I hope you being here early isn’t my doing, is it?” Graves added.

           “Not entirely, sir. I just thought it would be better for the both of us to use any time that we have for the investigation.”

           “I understand that. But, I thought I told you to come in at your assigned time. You won’t get much rest if you keep this up.” He told her while facing the board.

“I know, sir. But, I figured since these past early days have allowed us to cover much on the investigation, then another day wouldn’t hurt.”

“Keep that up and it will always be ‘another day’. Remind me to buy you a coffee once all this is done…” He turned around and faced her this time.

“No need, sir. Might I say, you don’t seem like yourself today. Something the matter?” Y/N questioned him. He was moving towards his desk now.

“Yes, well, I have news. A Senior Auror has been undercover for us in the city. We’ve had him keep a lookout for any sign of Grindelwald followers. Maybe even the wizard himself…”

“And?”

“He found something. Apparently, Grindelwald does have followers in New York. And, they appear to have a location,” he went on, “An old building between seventh and eighth avenue. He spotted lots of activity there. Not many entering, but he has spotted that figure constantly come in and out of the building.” Graves informed her while pointing to a dark image on the board.

“How do we know for sure?”

“Well, we don’t exactly know who that is. But, he has traced some magic to the building, and from the few people that have been detected, there is one we’ve managed to identify.” He said as he handed her a file.

“Gustav Alvez? The escapee from Azkaban? I don’t understand. The Ministry had publicized his murder after his supposed encounter with Grindelwald.”

“Looks like they were wrong. He appears to be very much alive.”

“Have you notified his reappearance to the Ministry?” She wondered as she studied the file.

“No. Why, should we?” Graves questioned her.

“Well, if they hear about a man rising back from the dead, they’ll have to submit an investigation of his death. This could help push them off your backs for some time, while you continue your own search of Grindelwald.” Y/N suggested.

“A distraction? This could actually be good for us. I’ll tell the President, immediately.” Graves said, as he went on to compose a note. Meanwhile, Y/N stepped over to the investigation board to examine everything they’ve had so far. As her eyes scanned the material, they landed on the dark image of the silhouette that was walking into the presumed location of Grindelwald followers. She squinted her eyes a bit, trying to get a better view of the man, but it didn’t seem to work. Behind her, was a small fluttering of wings as Graves sent the note to Madam President away. Y/N continued in front of the board without saying a word. She was deep in thought, when suddenly Graves came to stand next to her. He didn’t want to bother her, but he was curious as to what she was thinking.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked as he looked between her and the board.

“No. Well, I’m just curious about this man.” She pointed to the image.

“Before you came, I was telling Madam President that we must plan a capture. For all we know, this man could be Grindelwald.”

“No. He’s too smart pull something like this off. He must have known that MACUSA would eventually find some of his followers.” Y/N stated while shaking her head.

“You don’t believe he’s there?”

“Unless he’s gambling with the possibility of being caught, I don’t think so. He must have seen us coming. I mean, what are the chances one of the Auror’s just so happens to uncover such activity at this building, and that they find an ex-prisoner from Azkaban? A lot just doesn’t add up.” All the while she shares this, Graves is staring at her. He is completely amazed by how much she’s managed to conclude from a simple look at notes and images.

“Anything else you’ve gathered from all this?” Graves requested.

“Yeah. There’s going to be much work to do if we intend on catching this guy…” She told him; a hint of amusement in her voice. Graves chuckled lowly at this, for he was very much aware of that.

“Yeah, well, it’s part of the job. Anyways, don’t worry about this for now. I’ve got it covered. Go ahead and report yourself to your post. If I need anything, I’ll find you.”

“Yes, sir.”

As she replied, Y/N went on to leave the office, leaving Graves alone to study the board. He placed his hands on his hips and sighed heavily. Looking all over the work, he shook his head and glanced over to his door. Incredible. If there’s somebody here who will lead the capture of Grindelwald, it’s her. He thought.

After leaving Mr. Grave’s office, Y/N had gone to the Wand Permit Office to resume her duties. As she made it to her little desk, she laid her coat on the back of her chair. Just then, Queenie and Tina arrived.

“Hi, Honey!” Queenie saluted in her usual sugary voice.

“Hey, Queenie. Hey, Tina.”

“Hi, Y/N. How are you?” Tina asked her.

“I’m good. You gals?”

“I’m fantastic! And Tina is super happy because she’s on Wand Permit duty today!” Queenie stated.

“That’s great. It’s nice to see you as happy as ever Queenie. And, I’m glad you’re with us today Tina.”

“Your glad? I’m relieved. Don’t tell on me, but I’m just happy to get a break from Mr. Graves.” Tina confessed secretly.

“I don’t think he’s that bad. Is he?” Y/N wondered.

“Oh, no. He’s amazing at what he does and all, but he likes to drown himself in work, and when I’m helping him out, he drowns me as well. It’s just hard to keep up sometimes with everything happening in MACUSA.”

“Yeah, I got assigned to attend to him one day and he even drove me off the edge.” Queenie added lowly.

“Luckily you didn’t get assigned to him again.” Tina said.

“Why? What happened?” Y/N asked the girls.

“Well, whenever he’d had me do something, I often read his thoughts.”

“You barely gave him a chance to speak. It got on his nerves.” Tina chuckled and the other girls joined. When the laughter died down, Tina continued to talk, “Anyways, how is Auror preparation going, Y/N?”

“It’s going. It can be exhausting at times, but I get by.” Y/N admitted.

“Still, you seem to be making quite the impression. Some of the Auror’s have heard a lot about you.”

“What? How?”

“Julius, of course. He takes great pride in impressive candidates. He speaks highly of you. At least that’s what I’ve gotten to hear.” Tina told her. In that moment, James Henry walks into the Wand Permit Office, several files at hand. The girls all look to him as he approached them.

“Morning, ladies. Y/N.” James salutes, and he nods his head as he greets Y/N. The Goldstein sisters catch the moment, and they both seem to be aware of the vibe James is sending.

“Good Morning, James.” Y/N saluted. When James finally looked over at the sisters, they both recomposed themselves and continued to greet him back.

“Good Morning, James!”

“Hello, James. Listen, Y/N, Queenie and I need to go to the back for a second to retrieve some… files. Yeah, files. We’ll be back.” Tina told Y/N while grabbing Queenie and dragging her away.

“O…kay.” Y/N said. Her tone was suspicious, but she waved the girls off and looked back to James.

“So, Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now, about the uh, the umm… You got any plans tonight?” James asked her, his voice off balance.

“Not that I know of. After Auror Training, I’ll hopefully be heading home. Why?”

“You see, there’s this new jazz bar about two blocks from here. They say it’s really swinging. I was thinking of checking it out and thought you might want to come with me?” James went on. He was unnecessarily smoothing out his tie, numerous times, while looking to Y/N.

“I mean- I don’t know, James…”

           “I really think you’d like it. Plus, you said you’d show me a step or two, me having knowing no steps and all…” He added almost pleading.

           “Um… alright, I guess. We can go after we get out. And just for a little while!” Y/N pointed demandingly.

           “Great! Absolutely, a couple of minutes won’t hurt,” James said highly, “I’ll see you at training!” He added as he walked backwards away.

           “Later…” Immediately, Queenie and Tina reappeared. Both with grinning faces.

           “Everything alright?” Tina asked Y/N.

           “Yeah. He just wanted to tell me something.”

           “Something? That looked like a whole lot of something with the way he was shaking in his shoes!”

           “So, you were spying?”

           “No… Maybe… It’s just, he likes you so much and you make him so nervous!”

           “Really, honey. You should see what was going through his mind the entire time.” Queenie jumped in. Y/N glanced at her accusingly.

           “I know he likes me, guys. It’s not like he’s very discreet about it.” Y/N said to the girls.

           “What did he say?!” Tina asked excitingly.

           “He invited me to some jazz bar tonight. Said it was new and wondered if I would accompany him.” Y/N told her in a monotone voice.

           “And you said?”

           “I said I would accompany him only for a little while- why are you so ecstatic like that?” She wondered as Tina seemed to be quite giddy.

           “Because, he’s such a nice guy, and you are amazing without a doubt. I mean, you’’d make a nice couple. That’s all…”

“Couple? Tina, this isn’t a date. We’re just going to check out some jazz bar, nothing else.” Y/N was confused by Tina’s immediate labeling, “Besides, I don’t see him that way.”

“Awn…” Queenie sounded deflated.

“I’m sorry, gals. I’m just not looking into that right now. I have more important things to be thinking about… like Auror Training! Remember?”

“Well, at least give him a chance. He might just surprise you.” Tina said.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks.” Y/N replied annoyed, still she smirked at the girls.

“Anyways, we got a lot of work to do today. Let’s start checking those permits.” Tina added.

“Ok.” Responded both Queenie and Y/N as they all proceeded to their desks to work on their files.

When the girls had finished with some of the wand permits, Tina had excused herself to go on and perform her daily duties as an Auror. Meanwhile, Queenie and Y/N remained in the offices, up until Y/N had to leave to her Auror Training. She said her goodbyes to Queenie incased she missed her afterwards, and went off to the Target Room.

As she entered the room, Julius came right behind her, and continued to place himself in front of all the trainees. Y/N stood next to James who had accommodated himself at the end of the outstretched line. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

“Today, we begin with some very tricky spell work. What we will be casting today requires immense practice, and much concentration. If you do not learn to execute this skill, you might as well kiss your chances of being an Auror, goodbye. The lesson… Detecting and Identifying traces of magic.” Julius explained.

“Oh, boy.” James sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked.

“This is one of the toughest lessons in this Training.” He worried.

“I know.” Was all she responded.

Julius continued to share, “Now, the harboring of this skill takes time to master, so don’t expect to get it on your first day. Still, remember you won’t have forever to try. Let us begin!”

           At the end of the lesson, Y/N was drained. Just understanding the skill of detection was tiring enough. Yet she pushed through; with much difficulty, of course. As everyone exited the room, Queenie waited for Y/N near the doors. She waved her over, and Y/N followed suit.

           “Mr. Graves needs to see you right now. He said he’d be waiting in his office. He was pretty determined.” Queenie told her a little too seriously.

           “Oh, God. Um, okay. I’ll go right now.” Y/N responded a bit defeated. Then, James came up beside her.

           “You ready to go?” He asked her.

           “I can’t just yet. I have to go over to Mr. Grave’s office. Apparently, he needs to see me. I’m so sorry, I won’t take long. Wait for me in the lobby.” She told him as she skipped away to the elevator.

           “Mr. Graves? You asked to see me, sir?” Y/N said as she quietly stepped in the office.

           “Yes. I’ve got some more information on Gustav, from the Ministry. They’ve just arrived. If you don’t mind, I’d like for you to take a look at them so we can set up a profile.” He answered as he sauntered back and forth between his desk and the board, pining various notes.

           “Must all this be done now, sir?”

           Graves turned away from the board, “I would like for it to be. Why?”

           “It’s just, I-I- no reason, sir. My apologies.”

           “Miss Y/L/N, if you have somewhere to be, by all means go. I understand you must be tired and all…”

           “No, sir. That’s all right. May I borrow some of your notes? I need to compose one for somebody.”

           “Go ahead.”

           With his permission, Y/N grabbed a note and began to write a message on its surface.

I’m sorry. Something has come up and I need to be here. I hope you understand. Bests, Y/N

[goldgravesship]

An Office Affair | PART 2

SUMMARY: Percival Graves has been ignoring Tina Goldstein successfully for 23 glorious days since her demotion. He would decide if they could ‘enjoy’ a professional relationship—or any other kind of relationship. A series of GoldGraves stories.

RATING: Mature

PART 3 (updated may 8th, 2017)

PART 2: FF.NET | AO3

PART 1: TUMBLR | FF.NET | AO3

Many thanks to @nomorefrostbite, beta reader extraordinaire.

             “At last.” Graves sat back in his chair and took a long, slow sip of his coffee. He told everyone he drank it strong and black, but always added heavy cream and sugar when no one was looking. A lamp on his desk and an illuminated display case on the far wall dimly lit his office, the case displaying scopes and books he had collected over the years. He eyed the scope he knew Tina favored the most.

            “Percy, did you fire Miss Goldstein?” Seraphina Picquery pushed the door aside and let herself in without knocking. He hated when she called him that, and hated it more when she left the door open so half his aurors could overhear her doing it. She knew it too.

            “Madam President, I’m not sure what you’re talking ab—” As usual, she wasn’t one for listening to excuses or explanations, real or otherwise.

           “I’ve heard rumor – and it better be rumor, Percy,” an implied threat that had him merely raising an eyebrow at her as she carried on, looming over his desk, “the ladies in administration are saying Tina Goldstein screamed by the elevator and then ran off crying after you fired her. Two confirmed that you nearly threw her down the staircase. They’re saying that you abuse your power and bully your staff!”

           Percival pushed his chair back and stood in a display of respect to Seraphina; with her hair pulled back into a wrap she was taller than him, though he’d always felt they were evenly matched in style and stature, not to mention ability. Her dress was regal, pressed silks and fine stitching, no expense spared. How kind of her to stop by and bother him in the midst of a mountain of reports.

            “Fabricated hogwash - she slipped and I helped her, nothing more.” A part of him now wished he had thrown Tina down the staircase to warrant such accusations.

            “And was she crying?” Seraphina walked over to the glass case and leaned against it. He wondered why her sudden concern. “The girl looks up to you.” Did that mean she was deserving of some special treatment?

           “We demoted her, she doesn’t deserve my attention, and is no longer my problem.”

           Picquery looked at him as though she could see straight through him, as though she were a Legilimens and his Occlumency walls were parchment thin. That was another thing he hated, to add to his long list. “Only because it is law, only to protect the Statute. There was no excuse for her risking everything we stand for over one No-Maj child.”

            “Three. There were three children involved.” Percival had read over the report so many times he could recite it word for word. Paying attention to the details was his bread and butter work, so he had no qualms about correcting her, no matter their relative positions.

            “Well, either way, one or three or none at all, that isn’t what I’m here to discuss - handle the situation before it blows out of proportion. Intimidating your subordinates is one thing, but rumors that Percival Graves abuses his power are something else altogether.”

            “As you say, Madam President.” Percival bowed toward her curtly but respectfully as she left for her duties.            

           It required two additional coffees and a pastry to make it through the workday. He struggled to hold back various obscenities and hexes after listening to the endless drivel of debriefings that poured in from his newly selected recruits - Percival had to promote three new Junior Aurors to replace the workload Tina had handled by herself; in hindsight, he certainly couldn’t fault her efficiency.

           “Smith, close the door on your way out.” Percival barked at his latest hire. Charles Smith was a short young man with freckles and wavy blonde hair, too young and hopeful for this line of work. Percival was satisfied enough with him though. Smith’s attempts to impress had saved him some extra paperwork and another headache with the Madam President, but his clumsy wand work though - that just left a bad taste in his mouth.

           “Sir?” Merlin’s beard, couldn’t he take a hint and leave?

           “What now, Smith?” Percival tapped a quill against an ornate inkwell before signing various documents, some things he liked to do the old fashioned way. Giving undue time to his wide-eyed juniors once dismissed was not one of them.

           “Is it true? I mean…did you save Tina Goldstein?”

           Percival’s head and shoulders slumped over, quill stilled in his hand. He gritted his teeth and debated the ramifications of turning Smith into a pigeon. With a calm, deep breath he sat back in his seat, folding one leg over the other, and neatly placed his quill back in the inkwell in one decisive longsuffering movement.

           “What about Goldstein?” He glanced over at his liquor cabinet and then to the clock.  Merlin, he needed a drink.

           “Well, the girls were all in a tizzy this afternoon at lunch, sir. They were listening to the mailroom talk about how Tina Goldstein fell over the railing. You know, the one by the elevator?” Charles brushed his hair back, set down his paperwork and raised his hands into the air, seemingly miming out this heroic event. Percival hadn’t taken Smith as one for theatrics. This day needed to end. Was he still prattling on? “She was holding onto the railing,” He looked over to Percival with frightened eyes. “Percival, help!” He mimicked Tina, and not at all well in Percival’s opinion - he really didn’t think anyone who knew Tina Goldstein would believe she cried out like some damsel in distress. “You grabbed her just before she fell, saving her life!” Smith’s bright blue eyes lit up like firecrackers, full of awe and admiration. “I want to be just like you, sir. She would have died, that’s amazing. I’m really honored to be working with you.”

           “Charles.” Percival rapped his fingers on his desk, schooling his features so as not to look too scathing and incur further rumors and visits from Picquery. “Did Miss Goldstein inform you of this?” He’d have her head for this. Not to mention the fact that any basic cushioning or levitation charm from himself or a passerby would have saved Tina’s life – had she indeed actually fallen from the railing – and it bothered him to no end that people were gossiping about him with some silly story that didn’t even make sense in the first place, had they stopped to think about it. Which they clearly had not. What kind of witches and wizards was he working with?!

           “No, sir. She hasn’t been seen in the cafeteria lately, or the usual break rooms I’m told,” Charles picked up his files and leaned forward to whisper, as though letting his boss in on some highly classified information. “No one sees her around much since the demotion, and she eats down in the wand permit office or leaves and heads to some No-Maj joint. You would know that though.”

           Would he know that? Percival rested his fingers against his mouth, considering this new information about Tina’s activities, which he hadn’t paid too much mind to himself. How had an icy boot turned into a life or death rescue? “Thank you, Smith. You may go.”

           “No, thank you, sir. You saved Miss Goldstein. I really admired her work with childr—.”

           “Please leave.” Percival was exasperated as he waved his arm toward the door, restraining any tempting wandless magic that might have otherwise propelled the eager boy out with force.

           Charles’ eyes widened. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. See you tomorrow, sir.” He clutched the paperwork to his chest, bowed his head, and fled Percival’s office.

           Percival poured himself a shot of firewhiskey and drank it back - Tina Goldstein would be the death of him. He grabbed the delicately carved glass bottle and brought it over to his desk, waving a hand to shut his ajar office door, blocking out the activity of his department as most began to head home for the evening. With a slow sip and recline back in his chair again, he cast a Muffliato whilst completing some paperwork. He just wanted some peace and quiet to think.

           His mind wandered to Tina’s skirt, and the way she let him run his hand from the small of her back over her buttock and down her leg. His finger catching in the run of her stockings and the hint of soft flesh exposed. The more he thought about it, the more he focused on the tremble in her knees.

           An hour passed and half the bottle of Ogden’s had gone with it, his face was flushed from the alcohol and his mind had traveled to more carnal desires. Graves tugged his tie off and unbuttoned the top half of his shirt. It was one of those nights. He took a slow drag from a cigarette and let his eyes roll shut as a hand drifted down to his trousers.

           He imagined that he was back at home, with no more work to worry about. The loft space was large with minimal furnishing, but art deco in design. Simple, clean, and without the memories and nosey house elves that came attached to the vacant Graves family home that he barely found the time to go to any more. This was his place, and he could see it now in his mind’s eye - against the far wall a large glass window spanning from ceiling to floor, below it a gray, herringbone couch with drink cart and glass coffee table. Percival glanced out of the window with a view over Lower Manhattan, the Woolworth Building illuminated in the distance - MACUSA always in view one way or another. He had slipped off his belt and pulled his shirt free, ready to relax for the evening and enjoy himself.

           “Percival?” A female voice called out and a hand knocked at the door.

          Frustrated in more ways than one, he tugged his front door open with darkened eyes, poised to berate whoever had come calling for disturbing him, but it’s Tina, in a far skimpier version of what she’d worn to work this morning, something he couldn’t really imagine her ever wearing in reality—possible lover. No, reality wasn’t the point of this, and he banished those thoughts away, focusing himself back on the scene playing out in his mind.

           She looks up at him, her eyes sad and regretful, and her hair damp with snow.

           “Do you want a drink, Goldstein?” He walks across the room and pours two glasses before she has time to answer.

           “Whatever you’re having.” Her voice sounded sultrier than usual, purposeful.

           Percival turned around as her coat slipped over her shoulders and fell on the floor. “You shouldn’t be here, Tina.” A warning. Percival stirs the drink with his finger, and takes a sip, strong.

           “I’m sorry that I’m a disappointment to you.” Tina takes the other glass and drinks down the bourbon with ease. His dark intent gaze falls to her blouse; thin white silk, her nipples hard from the cold. “Reinstate me, you know how good I am.” She seems bold suddenly.

           “No.” His denial is earnest as he turns to take a seat on the couch. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his legs, glass cradled in hand. This is for her own good.

           “I’ll do anything…” She murmurs and drops to her knees before him.

           Graves’ breath is labored as he rocks back in his chair. He strokes himself through his pants. He imagines Tina’s hands coiled around him, mouthing wet kisses through the fabric of his pants.

           “We can’t.” He murmurs through a clenched jaw. Caught up in the fantasy, his fingers fumble for the buttons, unpracticed but eager like he imagines hers would be, giving him better access to his erection and sighing at the relief of skin to skin. “Tina…”

           “Sir?” Tina knocks on the door, her head peaking through.

           Graves’ eyes flash open. On reflex he falls forward in his chair; the springs screeching as he pulls his legs swiftly under his desk to hide his exposed cock. His hands slap hard against the desk, elbow knocking over the firewhiskey bottle, spilling the remains across his open case files, soaking through a week’s worth of paperwork. He utters a muffled curse.

[smellofparchment-blog]

By Moonlight and Sunrises: Chapter 10 - Sunrises

Story Title - By Moonlight and Sunrises (ffn link)

Story Description - There was no awkwardness. No need to fill the empty space with words because the space wasn’t empty. There was something - inaudible, invisible, of course, but there was something there anyways. “How can I possibly want to kiss a woman whose name I don’t even know?” Percy finally asked, breaking the silence.

Story Rating - teen (T)

Story Characters - Percy Weasley, Audrey Shacklebolt, George Weasley, Keegan Shacklebolt (OMC), Sabina Kopitar (OFC), Oliver Wood, Kingsely Shacklebolt, Zhara Shacklebolt (OFC), Kristopher Shacklebolt (OMC), Kelsey Rowle (OFC), Thorfinn Rowle, Molly Weasley I, Arthur Weasley

Story Pairings - Percy/Audrey

Chapter - 10) Sunrises

12 September 1999

"Hey - Prophet owl's here!"

As George opened the window, a small tawny owl swooped into the kitchen and dropped the rolled up newspaper in the middle of the dining table, which was covered in dishes and cutlery leftover from the large breakfast. The week following the attack at the Shacklebolt Estate had been a hectic one. Percy, Audrey, and the whole Shacklebolt family had constantly been in and out of the Wizengamot giving testimonies and journalists were all over the place. However, Kingsley was doing everything in his power to get the trial expedited and over with as soon as possible.

In the midst of testimonies, however, many Order secrets had begun to come out to the public - namely, Percy's involvement. It was unavoidable once Percy was sitting in the Wizengamot and being asked whether he had had any previous encounters with the accused, and the onslaught of questions that had followed had been a nightmare. Fortunately, though, Audrey had been by his side the whole time, just like when he had told his family.

Still, when Percy had received the letter from Rita Skeeter requesting an interview, he had been reluctant. That is, until Audrey made a good point: he could control his story, or he could let the old bag gab away however she wanted. Now, as the Burrow was filled with silence, the headline ominously stared back at him.

FORMER ORDER SPY SPILLS ALL: DRAMA, INTRIGUE, AND HEARTACHE

"Well, she certainly embellished," Percy declared, breaking the silence.

"Could be worse," Audrey said optimistically. She nodded towards the newspaper and added, "Do the honours, Perce."

Everyone in the small kitchen - Molly, Arthur, George, Ron, and Hermione - intently stared at Percy, then back at the newspaper in anticipation. With a deep breath, Percy reached forward and unrolled the paper.

"'Once upon a time, the name Percy Weasley would have meant less than nothing to all households of the wizarding world - ' wow, really, that's how she's going to start?" Percy began to read.

"Keep goin', you need to be brought down a couple pegs," George urged jokingly.

With a sigh, Percy continued, "' - but today I have the honour of introducing you to the Order of the Phoenix's bravest hero. Here follow the tales of a man that has given up more than most for the sake of doing the good thing for all magical kind.' And then it just goes on about some missions I did."

"Perce," Ron started with a serious tone, "for twenty-three years, you have been nothing but a pompous prat, but now - now - you act modest. What bloody missions?"

"Well the first one she talks about is the one where I stopped that last decree Umbridge wanted to get passed, back when she was Headmistress," Percy explained. "It was the one allowing physical punishment of students but Fudge never got it because, uh, I may have replaced it with a rather embarrassing letter bearing Umbridge's forged signature."

"Perfect, prudish Percival Weasley, did you just confess to damaging Ministry property and forging an official's signature?" George exclaimed sarcastically.

"Settle down, would you?" Percy grumbled. "Then it goes on about how I smuggled a muggle-born and his family out of the Ministry."

"The McConnells," Audrey intervened. "Keegan and I received them on the other end of the portkey."

"Wait - really?" Percy asked as he turned to look at Audrey in shock. "Blimey, we had a lot of close calls," he added observantly.

"You mean Gregor McConnell?" Arthur asked. "He... he pushed me out of the way of a blast when we were at Hogwarts."

Audrey glanced at Percy and smiled when she saw the look on his face. She could tell he was trying to down-play the article, but he seemed proud. He had a glint in his eye that she hadn't seen before. When he glanced her way, he didn't hesitate to return her smile.

"The, uh, last part actually talks about the mission that Audrey and her brother did, and how she saved my bloody neck," Percy continued, looking back down at the newspaper in his hands, a wide grin still on his face. "And then it ends with, 'While the war may be over, the list of heroes we must thank for their sacrifices continues to grow. Today, you can add Percy Weasley to that list: a perfect example of selflessness and bravery. Tune in - ' Oh, bloody hell."

"What's wrong?" Audrey asked curiously. She leaned in to get a better look at the article and rolled her eyes as she got a glimpse of the words.

Percy rolled his eyes and continued, "'Tune in next week for the hot gossip on his hero belle, Audrey Shacklebolt. There is more to this pureblood princess and her hero spy than meets the eye.'"

"Ugh, she even bloody rhymed it," Ron said with disgust, "Classic Rita Skeeter, ladies and gentlemen."

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Audrey declared tiredly. "For now, enjoy being a hero, Percy. You earned it."

"Skeeter or not," Molly started, leaning across the table to grab the newspaper from Percy, "this is getting framed and put in the living room."

"Nestled right alongside all of Percy's other awards," George teased as Molly promptly left the kitchen with Arthur following closely behind. "I call it 'The Shrine of Humongous Bighead.'"

As everyone else began to disperse and leave the kitchen, Percy leaned in towards Audrey, a mild look of annoyance on his face, and explained, "He means Head Boy."

"Oh, I know," Audrey replied with a smirk, "Him and Fred pretended like they didn't know who I was talking about if I didn't use that nickname for all of our fifth year. So - "

"So you're familiar," Percy interrupted with a sigh. Although he sounded annoyed, Audrey could see a small smile cracking his glare.

Leaning in closer, Audrey whispered, "You know, if you still have that badge, I think it would still look rather good on you."

"You want to me to wear my Hogwarts uniform?" Percy asked in confusion.

"I meant just the badge."

"I like where your head's at."

31 December 1999

Percy cleaned his glasses for possibly the tenth time in the last half hour, then gently perched them on his face again as he looked in the mirror in his old childhood bedroom. He had managed to tame his curly red hair for the night, and had put on his best set of dress robes. Deciding that this would be his final inspection, Percy gave himself a satisfied nod before opening the door to enter the chaos that was filling the rest of the Burrow.

Almost instantly, Percy was surrounded by the shouting and noise of his family attempting to get ready for the big New Year's Eve party that the Shacklebolts were hosting. He was nervous for the event, although not because it meant he would be facing Audrey's whole family. After Kelsey had been taken care of and things had settled down, Percy had actually regularly kept in touch with Audrey's parents. By all accounts, it seemed that he had made a good impression on them, and he couldn't be any happier.

When Percy's eyes found Ginny and George in the living room playing Exploding Snap, however, his happiness did fall a few steps.

"Hey! You two!" he exclaimed, storming towards his siblings. "You're not even dressed!"

"Ah yes, thank you, Captain Obvious," George bit back with a smirk. "Don't get your knickers in a twist - we'll go change now."

"This was a task for an hour ago!" Percy shouted as George and Ginny rolled their eyes at him and trudged their way upstairs.

Looking around rather frantically, Percy called out, "Ron! Harry!"

"I've got them!" Hermione shouted back. Deciding that she was probably the only other responsible person in the whole house, Percy considered that handled and went into the kitchen to join his older brothers.

Bill and Fleur stood by the window, seemingly calm in the midst of the loud house. Fleur was now sporting a visible baby bump, which had resulted in Molly being even more overbearing than usual; however, for the first time ever, Fleur seemed to be enjoying the attention her mother-in-law was giving her. Sitting at the dining table, Charlie was deep in conversation with his new girlfriend, a witch that he worked with in Romania by the name of Raluca. Admittedly, Charlie not showing up alone for the first Christmas ever had been the highlight of everyone's holidays.

For now, anyways.

Feeling a strong hand on his shoulder, Percy turned his head to see Arthur standing beside him. "How're you feeling, Perce?" his father asked with a grin.

"Nervous - definitely nervous," Percy replied, "but excited."

"That's a good sign," Arthur said reassuringly.

Percy nodded as his father left to extract Molly from Fleur's side. Looking down at his watch, the panic set in again. "People! We're already running late!" Percy shouted.

"Oi, relax," George grumbled as he entered the kitchen, fully dressed, "Haven't seen you this worked up since you graduated."

Percy only rolled his eyes at George, but he felt the smile spreading across his face as the rest of his family filled the small kitchen of the Burrow. The last time he remembered his whole family, Harry and Hermione included, crowded together in the Burrow like this had been Fred's funeral. Now, for the first time in a while, it was for a happy reason.

"All right, be clear when you're in the Floo: Shacklebolt Estate, Hornsea."

Audrey instinctively turned her head as she heard the roar of the Floo, considerably softer when covered up by the loud music playing in the main hall. She excused herself from her father's side as she made her way out of the hall and started to head towards the study.

She quickly stopped by her old bedroom, giving herself one final look-over in the mirror. She had left her hair down, wavy and swaying with every movement. Her gown was a deep burgundy colour and form-fitting. The sleeves were simple lace of the same colour and the dress left her back entirely bare all the way down to her waist. Except for the healed scar running diagonally across her back, she looked exactly how she had looked that night seven months ago.

The night her and Percy had first kissed.

With a satisfied nod, Audrey made her way to the study once more. As soon as she entered, she found the room full with the whole Weasley family. Audrey met Percy's eyes and he started heading towards her, the room growing quiet. She could see the surprise on his face as he recognized the dress. The grin he was sporting was contagious.

"This is... you look beautiful," Percy finally said.

"Thank you," Audrey replied with a proud smile, "you're looking rather dapper yourself."

"People are in the room!" George piped in as he popped up behind Percy and gave his older brother a much too strong pat on the back.

Percy rolled his eyes at George's outburst but Audrey only laughed and took hold of Percy's hand. "Well in that case, follow me," she declared.

With Percy by her side, Audrey led everyone back to the main hall, the sounds of music and conversation getting louder with each step. Everyone was visibly filled with awe as they entered the hall. The ceiling was covered in garlands of silver flowers. Large wreaths hung on the wall and beautiful glass vases of poinsettias were at the centre of each table. A Charmed mistletoe was zooming around the room, coming to an abrupt stop over its next pair of victims: Keegan and Daphne. Dramatic as always, Keegan dipped her down as if dancing before kissing her, earning a loud chorus of 'whoop's from his co-workers.

"Welcome to the Shacklebolts' New Year's Eve party!" Audrey introduced as she turned to face the rest of the Weasley family. "Make yourself at home."

One by one, everyone began to disperse as they recognized old friends or simply felt like joining in on the dancing. Soon enough, only Percy and Audrey were left standing together.

"This is amazing," Percy said as he looked around the room.

"You don't want to know how stressful it was to be around my mum this last month," Audrey replied, "but it looks like it paid off."

"Ah, just who I was looking for!"

Audrey and Percy turned around at the sound of Lucinda's voice. Of course, Audrey should have known that her grandmother wouldn't be one to wait around for Audrey to come to her - rather, Lucinda was a fan of taking matters into her own hands.

"Well, Audrey, please introduce us," the older woman said pointedly.

"Percy, meet my grandmother, Lucinda. Gran, this is Percy, my boyfriend," Audrey introduced with a smile.

"Pleased to finally meet you dear," Lucinda said as she shook Percy's hand. "Kris speaks of you very highly."

"I am truly happy to hear that," Percy replied politely.

"So polite," Lucinda noted as she looked Audrey's way, as if that would mean Percy was out of earshot. Taking a step back and looking at the couple with a proud smile, she added, "Now go enjoy yourselves!"

Hooking her arm with Percy's, Audrey chuckled at her grandmother and led him into the party. With a wave of her wand, two glasses of champagne floated towards her and Percy and they each took a glass as they continued walking. "Gran can be a lot, but she means well," Audrey said with a shrug.

"If you think that's a lot, wait 'til you meet Muriel," Percy replied with a shake of his head. "Besides, I kind of like that my biggest worry is being bombarded by your grandmother."

"Well, when you put it that way, we've definitely fried bigger fish," Audrey admitted. It really was nice, for the first time ever, to not feel like she had to watch her back at every turn.

As the couple made their way around the large room, they stopped a few times to talk to several people they both recognized from work. It felt so natural to be by Percy's side even for the simplest conversations, and Audrey found herself enjoying introducing him to the rest of her family. Soon enough, Audrey spotted Sabina and made her way over to her best friend with Percy in tow.

"Sab! I'm so glad you're here," Audrey said as she went to hug her friend.

"Aye, glad to be here. Nice to see you again, too, Percy," she greeted, looking around rather frantically.

"Likewise," Percy replied slowly. "You all right?"

Sabina sighed heavily and met Audrey's eyes. "I've got a situation," she declared. "Your dad told my dad to feel free to bring the team."

Audrey frowned in confusion at her friend. Every year her parents had held this party, her father had always extended an invitation to the Quidditch team that Sab's father coached, Puddlemere United. "Like he always does," Audrey said slowly.

"Merlin's crotchless thong, I need to be more hammered," Sabina muttered, quickly downing her champagne right after and summoning another glass.

"Oh, look - I didn't know Oliver would be here," Percy said as he spotted his friend just entering the hall. He moved to wave him over but Sabina quickly smacked his arm down.

"Are you mad?" she hissed. Shaking her head, she added, "Jebemti, I need to get out of here."

Without another word, Sabina disappeared into the crowd of the party. "Well, it's never good when she starts swearing in Slovenian," Audrey declared as she looked up at Percy.

"What was that all about?" he asked curiously.

"I have a feeling we'll find out eventually," Audrey replied as she watched Sabina disappear into the crowd. "Still wanna go say hi to Oliver?" she asked.

"Actually... I was thinking we could get some fresh air," Percy said, feeling a surge of courage run through him.

"I'd like that," Audrey replied with a smile.

The couple made their way towards the double doors leading out onto a large balcony that overlooked the sea. The area was sealed with Heating Charms to keep out the cold winter breeze, but the view was still breathtaking. A starry sky hung over the strong sea waves rolling onto the beach. Audrey set her champagne glass down on the stone ledge of the balcony as she looked out at the seaside, a small smile of contentment on her face. She felt calm and happy. These were the moments she wished would never end.

"Remember the last time we were alone on a balcony together?" Audrey asked, the smile on her face widening as she continued looking out at the view.

"That's actually exactly what I was thinking about."

Turning to look at Percy, Audrey frowned in confusion when she didn't immediately see him next to her. When she turned around and her eyes finally landed on him, her jaw dropped slightly and her eyes widened in surprise. She felt her breath hitch as she looked down at Percy, down on one knee in front of her with an open ring box in his hand and an incredibly wide grin on his face.

"Audrey Shacklebolt, I want to stargaze with you for the rest of my life, wherever we are," Percy started. "Will you marry me?"

"Will I - ? Yes! Yes!" Audrey replied excitedly, smiling uncontrollably.

Percy quickly got up and put the engagement ring on Audrey's finger then, without a moment's hesitation, wrapped his arm around her waist to bring her close and kiss her. Audrey quickly kissed him back, hands grabbing at his dress robes to pull him even closer. This was a moment that would last forever.

1 January 2000

"Look at that - made it to sunrise."

Audrey blinked rapidly in the hopes that it would make her feel more awake as she took in the first sign of light between the clouds. After the excitement of their engagement and the thrill of the countdown, Audrey and Percy had decided to stay up to see the first sunrise of the year. They had situated themselves on a bench in the gardens, with plenty of blankets, coffee, hot chocolate, and some strong Heating Charms. Overall, Percy was much better at dealing with sleep deprivation than she was.

"First sunrise of the year," Audrey said with a smile. "First sunrise as your fiancée."

With his arm around her waist, Percy gave her a light squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. "I like the sound of that," he said.

"You know what else sounds nice?" Audrey started as she looked over at Percy. "Audrey Weasley sounds pretty nice."

Percy returned Audrey's wide smile. "It sounds perfect," he said quietly.

[fashiontrendin-blog]

Why It’s Time To Reconsider The Short Sleeve Shirt

http://fashion-trendin.com/why-its-time-to-reconsider-the-short-sleeve-shirt/

Why It’s Time To Reconsider The Short Sleeve Shirt

Not so long ago, there were few things more vociferously loathed in menswear than the unassuming short sleeve button up. This men’s separate has long been the butt of many a sartorial joke.

Though this garment might for some still bring to mind a certain global fast food chain’s uniform or the questionable wardrobe choices of provincial clubbers circa the early aughts, it’s recently been given a whole new lease of life thanks to reinterpretations from designers and high-street retailers alike.

“We need to show the short-sleeved shirt some love,” says Sam Kershaw, buying manager at online menswear emporium Mr Porter. “It’s time to cast aside any dated associations with IT technicians, missionaries and Homer Simpson, and to remind ourselves that a shirt with short sleeves can be just as stylish as its longer-armed brother.”

In recent years, and in line with menswear’s general shift toward all things casual, tropical prints, geometric patterns, flowing silk and Cuban collars have made arm-bearing shirts the natural choice for warmer weather. Because they’re not just stylish, but practical too. As the heavy heat of summer hits, a shorter sleeve keeps you adequately aerated – meaning no more unsightly sweat patches ruining your carefully considered look. That’s a win-win.

A Short (Sleeved) History

A bit of an anomaly when compared to other contemporary wardrobe staples, short sleeve shirts didn’t really gain any traction in the menswear market until the early 20th century, when outfitters started to suggest them to customers as stylish kit for a spot of tennis.

Fast-forward to the fifties and sixties, and the button up has made the transition from athletic wear to something much more smart casual – thanks in no small part to trendsetters of the time, including Elvis Presley, Billy Fury, Marlon Brando and James Dean, sporting the style.

What happened in the years that followed can pretty much be summed up as heinous style crimes we’ve only recently managed to forget. Gradually pushed further and further out of its elegant mid-century context, the short-sleeved shirt fell from favour dramatically, becoming the go-to piece for unimaginative corporate types on casual Fridays.

Now though, menswear’s powers that be have succeeded in dusting off the short sleeve shirt, striving to erase our memories of terrible cuts and graph paper checks in a bid to encourage us to consider this wardrobe classic anew.

Buying Considerations

Despite being essentially a slightly different version of something that most men wear every week, the perils of wearing a short sleeve button up are numerous. But, so long as you swot up on the factors that can make or break wearing this summer-ready staple, your chances of looking like an eye-sore with shoebox-shaped sleeves will be vastly reduced.

Fit

Surprise surprise. If you haven’t figured it out by now, this will always be the most important thing you can do for your personal style. No matter what your budget, making sure your clothes fit you perfectly is essential to pulling off any look, piece or fashion trend.

When it comes to short-sleeved shirts, there are two main areas you need to focus on: the sleeves and shoulders. The shirt should fit well across your shoulders without being too tight around your chest or through the sides. If you start to see any pulling or creasing in material – chest buttons and the upper back are two hot spots – think about sizing up or trying a different cut.

As for the sleeves, they should finish around mid-bicep and allow a single finger between the fabric and your arm, unless you’re going for a deliberately baggy Cuban style (in which case, caution is advised).

Austin Reed

Fabric

Most of the old sartorial rules don’t mean a damn thing anymore, but this one holds true: short sleeve shirts are casual, and smart casual at their smartest. Meaning you’ll probably only get the weather to wear them during the latter end of spring and through the summer months.

With this in mind, cotton and linen should be your first ports of call when considering fabric options. Cotton styles are more structured, making them ideal for smarter looks and combining with tailoring, while also being reasonably lightweight. Linen (and, to a lesser extent, silk) are relaxed and breathable – perfect for staying cool during oppressive heat.

Polyester, poly-cotton blends and any other synthetic fibres are best avoided. You’ll find plenty of poly-cotton shirts on the market but despite their attractively low price tag, these won’t drape well, don’t offer much breathability and will – in the unlikely of event of catching fire – see you immolated at a much faster rate than cotton.

Reiss

Details

Like their longer-sleeved counterparts, short-sleeved shirts can come equipped with a whole manner of different details, each with its own aesthetic advantages.

Rolled sleeves (with or without a button fastening) are a classic design feature and look best on neutral or plain styles where their inclusion lends an otherwise fairly banal shirt a bit of interest.

Chest pockets are worth looking out for, too, but but avoid contrast pockets if you want keep your aesthetic timeless and sophisticated.

For something with a slightly sportier feel, keep an eye out for styles with notched sleeves, similar to what you would find on a polo shirt.

Percival

Collar

Your two main collar options on a short-sleeved shirt are a classic point collar or a Cuban collar. Whereas the latter can be worn on beneath a suit for a casual take on tailoring or teamed with chinos to nail modern Riviera chic, the point collar is trickier to master.

Try a buttoned down Oxford style, which will more likely jettison any accusations of being a walking style vacuum or leave the top couple of buttons undone to play up the shirt’s laid-back vibe.

Reiss

How To Wear

The key to wearing a short sleeve shirt well is keeping the term ‘smart casual’ front and centre. That means understanding that this wardrobe essential doesn’t sit well with other firmly casual pieces like distressed jeans or joggers (you might just get away with side-stripe trousers depending on the style of shirt).

For a fail-safe ensemble, team with chinos or well-cut trousers (or tailored shorts in warmer climes) and summer-ready footwear like suede espadrilles, sandals or loafers.

Beware the tuck. You can look like either like a sixties Nasa engineer or like you’ve just clocked off from a job in customer service. A Cuban collar is easier to style this way, and the same goes if you want to wear your shirt open over a T-shirt.

Finally, as Kershaw notes, “Never wear a short-sleeved shirt with a tie or any sort of neckwear, unless you actually are at the controls of a jumbo jet.”

Recommended Brands For Short Sleeve Shirts

Topman

It’s well known that Topman is the unofficial outfitter of the country’s most style-savvy teenagers, but that’s not to say that grown-ups can’t get some of the brand’s cool credentials for themselves.

Topman excels at playful print and pattern, but its focus on fabric, fit and construction means that there’s so much more to love about the label’s sharp button ups beyond what catches the eye. Why should the kids have all the fun?

J.Crew

J.Crew has a reputation for bringing modern American preppiness to a global audience, but beyond the trusty classics, there’s a lot more forward-thinking design to be found than the brand is given credit for.

As well as stripe and check options, look out for modern florals, updated Hawaiian print and, of course, plenty of plaid. There’s a particularly good selection of fabric choices on offer too, so J.Crew should be your first port of call for reasonably priced linen and cotton short-sleeved shirts.

River Island

River Island may have been a high-street fixture for as long as we can remember, but age is no signifier of staleness as the British stalwart is more than adept at keeping its eye on what’s making waves in menswear.

If you’re in the market for something simple, go for a block-colour design, while if your collection of short sleeve shirts is in desperate need of a shake up, there are plenty of statement-making styles to get to grips with. This old dog has plenty of new tricks.

Percival

Though less than a decade old, British brand Percival has become a regular wardrobe fixture for men who are after quality and longevity coupled with considered design.

Fabrics for the brand’s shirts are sourced from all over the world to ensure the best possible construction while a healthy peppering of print, pattern and texture give familiar shapes an unexpected new lease of life.

Uniqlo

If you’re keen on quality fabrics but haven’t got funds to fritter, you’re in luck – Japanese retailer Uniqlo has quite literally got your back covered.

Timeless styles such as short sleeve Oxford shirts and pastel linen designs form the lion’s share of the offering, which means that most styles here are ideal for throwing on at a moment’s notice and will age well.

AMI

Helmed by street style fixture Alexandre Mattiussi, French brand AMI doesn’t just do cool classics (though it boasts plenty) because streetwear and youthful design references are hallmarks of this design house too.

Rallying against stereotypes of pared-back French nonchalance, AMI’s short-sleeved shirts are instantly recognisable thanks to their elongated hems and dropped shoulders that add just the right amount of edge to the summer essential.

Mango

Thanks to Mango’s appreciation of retina-pleasing design and budget-friendly production techniques, modest means are no barrier to getting your hands on a seriously sharp short sleeve button up.

Highlights include high-quality, low-cost linen options, an impressive array of pastel colourways and all the collar shape options that you could possibly wish for.

Sandro

Sitting a notch under the high-end heavy hitters, French brand Sandro is one of the most accessible faces of Gallic sophistication. This means for a non-stratospheric price tag, you can cop plenty of that not-really-trying style that the country is so famous for.

Superior fit and fabric may be calling cards for Sandro, but aside from nailing these all-important fundamentals, the more superficial stuff (that’s print and pattern) is just as impressive with the odd curveball design likely to pique your interest.

Mr P.

If Mr Porter wasn’t already appealing enough with its comprehensive yet tight edit of every luxury brand worth knowing about, in-house range Mr P. has further bolstered its saliva-inducing library of menswear.

Short sleeve shirts here focus on timeless style and wearability (who wouldn’t want those things?) but there are enough modern prints and collar shapes thrown into the mix to keep men who want to make more of a statement happy too.

Reiss

When it comes to hitting that sweet spot between high street and high end, there are few brands which occupy the aspirational middle ground as confidently as Reiss. Alongside high-quality basics, this London-based brand excels at on-trend designs and cuts that stray from the beaten path.

In the Reiss repertoire you’ll find punchy prints (designed in its London atelier), timely colour options and consistently flattering fits that help keep the offer feeling contemporary.