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melzula · 5 years ago

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Secret Tunnel

sequel to Fire Lilies

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

warnings: lots of fluff, lots of angst, forbidden lovers au

notes: tysm for all the love on fire lilies. I hope you guys enjoy part two! once again, most of this isn’t canon to the series

summary: “Built a path to be together.”

A month has passed since you last saw Zuko, and life in the Southern Water Tribe hasn’t been easy. Your father has been worn thin preparing the nation for battle, planning war tactics and training the troops in combat. Any and all male water benders are sent to the front lines, and all bending among women is now forbidden. Your father says it’s a way to protect you, to prevent the Fire Nation from separating children and mothers, to make them believe that there are no female water benders, but to you it seems as if he’s leaving you completely defenseless. When the men are gone and the women and children remain who will stop the Fire Nation soldiers from raiding your home and burning it to ash?

Guards accompany you no matter where you go now making it impossible to sneak out, and their constant presence reminds you of the dark times that lie ahead for you and your people. Your father will be leaving soon, your bending is forbidden, and your heart longs for Zuko’s comforting presence. What you wouldn’t give to be cozily wrapped up in his warm embrace. Wherever he is and whatever he’s doing now, you hope that he‘s okay and that he hasn’t forgotten about you. Each night before bed you pray to the moon begging the spirit to keep him safe, and it is the only thing that brings you solace during your time of heartbreak.

The village is silent and the air is heavy with tension and anxieties as the men prepare for their early departure tomorrow morning. Many families have turned in early for the night to make the most out of what little time left they have with their loved ones. Downstairs the servants are setting the table for a meal of arctic hen and seaweed noodles, but you don’t plan on accompanying your parents to dinner. Your stomach is too unsettled to hold any food down, and you often find yourself too upset to eat. Instead you stand on your balcony and stare out at the endless sea before you, imagining what it would be like if Zuko were here to enjoy the view with you.

A tiny speck appears in the distance causing you to squint your eyes in an attempt to get a better look, and as the figure grows closer you realize it’s a messenger hawk with the Fire Nation emblem displayed proudly on its breast. Your body is buzzing with joy and excitement as you eagerly untie the scroll from the bird the minute it lands on your balcony. The ribbon that seals the paper closed is quickly tossed aside, and your eyes water at the sight of the familiar handwriting.

“My beloved Princess,

By the time this letter reaches you our people will be hours away from war. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, and each day we’re apart only reminds me of how passionately my heart burns for you. I never wanted to leave you, but I wanted to show my respect to your father. I know we are forbidden from one another, but I want to see you. If you wish to see me too then please meet me on the west end of the south pole in three days at night fall. There’s something I want to show you.

Yours always,

Zuko.”

A tearful smile curls upon your lips as you clutch the letter tightly to your chest, whispering a quiet thank you to the moon that begins to rise amongst the stars. Already your mood has improved greatly at the thought of seeing Zuko again, and you don’t hesitate to grab a scroll and calligraphy brush so that you may write back. Your message is quick and simple, it has to be if you want to send it back in time without getting caught: “I can’t wait to see you.”

You securely attach the letter to the messenger hawk before sending it back on it’s way, a hopeful glint in your eyes as you watch your note make its way to your lover. In three days you’ll be reunited with Zuko, and the thought is enough to give you the strength to get through the tough days ahead.

~~~

With the absence of your father as well as the majority of the troops only a few soldiers are left behind to watch over the village and even fewer are left to keep watch over you, thus making it easier for you to climb down your balcony and travel the journey to the west end of the South Pole. The sun is just beginning to set as you weave your way through the hidden corners of your village. You had told your mother and your nursemaid that you were feeling ill and would be resting for the remainder of the night, requesting that you be left undisturbed and unattended. They bought it, and now here you were just moments away from meeting Zuko.

The east end of the South Pole is hidden from the mainland by the mountains and provides the perfect cover for your little secret rendezvous. Zuko already stands waiting, his golden hued eyes widening at the sight of you and his legs immediately stumbling in the snow as he rushes to greet you.

“Y/N!” He exclaims before immediately lifting your figure off the ground in a tight hug. Joyous laughter escapes you as you rest your hands upon his shoulders and allow your forehead to fall against his own. Tearful smiles are exchanged, a subtle blush dusting upon Zuko’s cheeks as you gift him a delicate kunik in appreciation for his presence.

“I was so afraid I’d never be able to see you again,” you admit quietly, hands now moving to rest upon his chest as he sets you back down on your feet.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Zuko apologizes. “Running off unnoticed to the South Pole isn’t exactly easy, but I’d go to the ends of the earth if it meant I’d get to be with you.”

His confession earns a shy smile in return, and Zuko takes a moment to cup your face in his hands and press a fond kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, Zuko. More than anything. I’m just so afraid of this war tearing us apart.”

“That’s why I wanted you to meet me here today,” admits thoughtfully. “I’ve found a way to make sure no war ever comes between us.”

“You have?”

“I have,” he nods. “Follow me.”

Your gloved hand takes hold of Zuko’s own warm one as he guides you through the snow and towards the mountains in the exact direction you came from. Though you’re a bit confused, you say nothing and follow along until he finally stops in front of what looks to be like a cave.

“A cave?” You question with the tilt of your head. You watch in awe as a flame lights itself in the palm of Zuko’s hand in order to illuminate the entrance.

“At first glance that’s all it is,” Zuko nods, extending his hand towards the entrance and revealing how deep the cave really is. “But if you look closer...”

“A secret tunnel!” You gasp. “How did you find this?”

“Apparently we weren’t the first Fire Nation and Water Tribe couple to be separated,” Zuko smiles faintly. “I went to my Uncle for guidance, and he told me the story of the two forbidden lovers. They were complete opposites, yin and yang, water and fire, but they brought balance to each other. Their love was new and exciting for them, but unnatural in the eyes of their people. They were broken up and ordered never to see each other again.”

“What happened to them?” You ask in awe, eyes widened ever so slightly with intrigued interest at his story. He doesn’t miss the way you clutch anxiously at the sleeve of his robes, smiling ever so slightly at just how innocent and childlike your wonder can be.

“The water bender, Varrick, found this cave. At the pit of it was a body of water that went out to sea. He froze the water then created a sort of tunnel through the ice that led out into the ocean. His best friend was an earth bender, and with his help they created the remaining length of the tunnel to reach the Fire Nation with rocks from the ocean floor- they would be able to withstand the heat of the nearby volcanoes unlike the ice. He built an underwater pathway just to see her.”

“And so with each new moon the lovers would go through the tunnel and meet halfway to be together in secret. This was Varrick and Elza’s tunnel, and now it can be ours.”

“Oh, Zuko,” you utter softly, looking up into his gentle eyes as he takes both of your hands in his own.

“I’m willing to make the journey to see you. We can meet under every full moon, or every half moon, or every night if you’d like. I don’t care as long as I get to be with you.”

“Let’s meet once a week,” you agree with a nod. “I don’t think I can wait for every full moon.”

“Neither can I,” Zuko chuckles softly before leaning down to press a loving kiss to your lips. His arms snake around your waist as you reach up to drape your arms over his shoulders, savoring the feeling of his lips upon yours for as long as you can.

The stars twinkle beautifully in the sky over the two of you as you share a kiss in the entryway of your secret tunnel.

~~~

Another month has passed and the war between your nations still rages on, but it doesn’t stop either of you from meeting each week in the secret tunnel. When the sun sets and the moon begins to rise in the sky, Zuko meets you halfway and greets you with a passionate kiss. You sit and talk for hours, sometimes with Zuko’s head in your lap or your head resting against his shoulder. It is always peaceful and always romantic, and for a minute you can almost forget the war on the outside of your little tunnel.

A knock on your door interrupts you from tying your hair up in the way you know Zuko likes for your rendezvous later that night, and with an impatient sigh do you allow entry into your room. Your mother, worn and tired from the absence of your father, stands in the doorway with a giddy smile on her face.

“Mother?” You prod cautiously. “What is it?”

“Your hand has been asked for in marriage, and I’ve given my blessing!” She cries gleefully, ignorant of the way your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach at her revelation.

“No...”

“Finish getting yourself ready, your fiancé and his family will be coming over for dinner!”

She shuts the door behind her, leaving you to stare blankly at your reflection in the mirror. You’re being married off to someone you don’t know, someone who isn’t Zuko, and your mind isn’t sure how to process the information. Silent tears begin to stream down your face as you finish doing your hair.

You have to see Zuko.

~~~

Zuko finds himself seated amongst the Fire Nation’s top generals, yet his heart is racing with excitement as he agonizingly counts down the minutes until he can see you again. This visit would be different than most because this time he planned to propose. The two of you were much too young to get married, he knew that, and he’d wait how ever long it took until you were ready. But he wanted something that would tie you together no matter how far apart you were, something that showed you just how serious he was about your love, something that assured you you’d be together forever.

But then your life had been threatened, and everything changed.

“Rumor has it there’s still one water bender left in the Souther Water tribe, and many believe it to be their Princess,” one of the generals reported. Zuko’s eyes widened at the mention of you, but he did his best to remain stoic.

“Then we’ll threaten to burn her village to the ground until she surrenders herself as prisoner. And then we shall execute her.”

“You can’t!” Zuko shouted, rising from his seat and effectively startling the men around him. Harsh glances are sent his way as the Prince slowly sinks back down into his seat like a scolded child.

He had spoken out against a war general, and now he was expected to duel in an Agni Kai.

~~~

When you meet in the secret tunnel that night your embraces are frantic and distraught. No words are spoken for a long while as Zuko holds you in his arms, but both of your faces are stained with tears. He pulls away to look at you, delicately brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before resting his hands upon your cheeks. He should have been proposing to you right now, he should have felt like the luckiest boy alive. Instead all he felt was fear and dread at the news he was about to give you.

He should have noticed the betrothal necklace delicately wrapped around your neck.

You both open your mouth to speak and deliverer your news at the same exact moment.

“I’ve been challenged to an Agni Kai.”

“I’m engaged.”

*part three

| tags: @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @multi-fandomstan @eridanuswave @royahllty @lozzybowe |

#zuko #prince zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #avatar the last airbender #secret tunnel #forbidden lovers au #fire lilies

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fallenhero-rebirth · 5 years ago

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Not supposed to be like this

I needed a break from game writing, got a suggestion to finally write this scene.

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Los Diablos felt smaller than he expected.

Daniel wasn't sure what he had imagined when he moved west, an endless cross-country journey of flights and hitch-hikes. Not straight west, of course, deep south first, as far as he could, avoiding the desolate midwest where the ashes blew too thick.

He wasn't sure because he'd grown up on old movies, and it felt so unreal that it could all be gone. Changed. Broken apart and put back together again, like cutout poetry. Boston had been old and cramped, the people having outgrown it like an old overcoat, spilling out the sides. Ugly. Not where he lived, protected, guarded, kept safe from everything but the monsters that lurked within the walls.

That's what flight gave him. Freedom.

The freedom to run away.

Or run towards.

Los Diablos had monsters of a different sort, but also heroes that hunted them. Kept the city safe. He'd been doing that since he got here. Tried his best. The last mugger had struggled so much he'd almost dropped him.

Maybe he wasn't cut out for that kind of thing, but anything else felt like cheating. He still had money, Josh had tucked away a lot, and not everything had gone to buy what was supposed to be their freedom. Not just his.

The wrong people died and he just kept on living.

Maybe that's why he's here. On a rooftop, not too high. Too high and things go small. Insignificant. Los Diablos just another broken suburb, the people below unimportant and nameless. Too high and it's so easy to get detached.

He promised himself that wouldn't happen to him. That he'd remember. Even if it hurt.

The funeral is not as big as it should be. Heroes should be treated better. A parade, or a salute. Not just people in black staring at two coffins. Sidestep. Anathema. Heroes. Dead.

He's not supposed to be there, of course, he's just a scrawny seventeen year old vigilante, and the people down there are real heroes. If he had pulled up his binoculars he would have been able to recognize them, but it seemed rude somehow. Like he's not supposed to look too closely at their grief.

“That's better not be a camera." The voice is deep, and makes Daniel jump, not landing on the roof, but hovering an inch or two above it. The winds nearly sweep him off the edge but he holds steady.

"It's not," he says, defending himself, trying to ignore the fact that he's standing face to face with Sentinel. In a black suit and tie, like the others. "And I wasn't about to use the binoculars. I..."

"Calm down kid." Sentinel lands heavily on the roof, the winds dying down. He takes a moment to straighten his suit out. "I recognize you. You're the one thats been taking on the Snakeheads recently?"

"Not exactly, they just..." Daniel tries to land, fails. "I guess I just don't like the fact that they keep robbing people."

"That they do. You got a name yet?"

"Daniel," he offers, together with his hand even though his palms are clammy with nervousness.

"I meant your hero name," Sentinel laughs, but shakes his hand all the same. Strong grip. His presence larger than his hands.

"No, I... it's hard coming up with something that doesn't sound stupid." He pulls back his hand. Opens and closes it.

"That it is." A pause, and he narrows his eyes. "How old are you anyway?"

"Seventeen." Daniel finally manages to land, looking away. Down below, people are singing. It sounds beautiful in a way that death is not. "What are you doing up here anyway? The funeral is..."

"I spotted someone suspicious." Sentinel looks down as well. "And honestly, maybe it's better that I'm not."

"They were your teammates, your... friends?" He doesn't quite bring himself to say the last with any surety.

"They were. And I should have been there. If I had..." A twitch of his face, maybe pain, maybe shame. "I could have done something. Saved someone."

"It's not..."

"I couldn't have known, I know. I wasn't even in town." A hollow laugh. "Doesn't make the pain less. Doesn't make Ortega any easier to deal with."

"The Marshal?" No secret identity, Daniel has read all about the exploits of Marshal Charge. Probably half lies. More than that.

"Yeah." Sentinel runs a hand over his tightly coiled hair. "Guilt is harder to deal with when others add to it daily. I think I'll steer clear for a while. Until the worst settles."

"Maybe that's why I'm here too."

"Guilt? You're too young for that."

"Sidestep was my hero." Daniel feels his face grow hot, it sounds stupid now that he said it out loud.

"That's why you're doing your vigilante thing? To be like them?"

"No." Don't float. Don't float. "My brother and I took the hero drugs together. He didn't make it."

"So now it's up to you." Sentinel sighs, but not unfriendly. "I get that."

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?" Daniel were used to that particular interrogation. Why. How. He had a good life, good parents, everything to live for. How could he have been so stupid?

"No." He turns back from the funeral and looks directly at Daniel. "You don't do that here. You don't ask."

"I didn't know." He feels his toes scrape the roof as a last resort. "Why?"

"It's always a painful answer. People know that here. It's not like back east."

"Oh, you know." Daniel tries to pretend that he's not hovering fully now.

"You're still got the accent," an almost kindly smile. "Though I take it you've been working on it?"

"I have." For so many reasons. "I'm not going back."

"People who come here seldom has anything to go back to."

"It's not fair." Daniel looks down at the funeral again, the coffins being lowered into the ground. "Heroes shouldn't die."

"You know the saying." Sentinel looks down as well. "You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

"What are you going to do?"

"Retire before either of those happen." The laugh is cynical. "Eventually. Once this settles down and we've got a new team. I've seen too many kids die."

"I'm not going to. Not yet."

"Flying doesn't make you immortal. The closest thing we had to that in this town is down there in a box."

"I'm sorry." The reflex is immediate, words stumbling over Daniel's tongue. "I didn't mean..."

"It's fine. It's just..."

"Hard."

"Yeah." Sentinel falls silent. Below the crowd starts to break up, slowly, unwillingly. "Tell you what kid. Meet me back here tomorrow and let's see how good you can handle yourself in the air."

"Really?" It's not right to sound excited, not at a funeral but his tongue betrays him all the same.

"If you're gonna do this, might as well learn the ropes. And if you can't handle yourself, it's better you learn it from me."

"I can..." Daniel starts, but is interrupted by a scuffle below. Looks like a fight, looks like...

"Fuck. Got to go and clear this up before someone gets killed." The wind sweeps Sentinel off the roof, nearly taking Daniel with it until he manages to adjust.

Adjust and land, slightly breathless, slightly horrified.

He brings his binoculars up to see what's going on there. Who's on the ground. Who's on top. Who...

Oh.

That's not good. Looks like Marshal Charge just snapped.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fanfiction #herald #sentinel

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avaria-revallier · 4 years ago

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Chapter 9 - The truth

Masterpost

AO3

“Master Bofur,” she turned around in surprise.

The dwarf with the funny hat was leaning against the railing of the balcony. He stood in the shadows, only the gleaming of his pipe let her make out his position. The sweet scent of the pipeweed tickled her nostrils and slightly burned in her eyes.

Stepping out into the dark of the night, a welcoming cold made her shiver. Now that the lights of the hallway no longer blinded her she could see Bofur quite clear. Underneath his hat he never seemed to be without, she could spot the familiar smile on his lips. Knowing, a bit sad, but always ready to cheer her up.

His twin braids bounced as he stood up and stepped into the light. In his other hand she could spot a bottle of wine. Most likely it had been out of Lord Elrond's cellars, a present from Thranduil. Not that it mattered, the King of the Woodland Realm had more than enough in his own cellars. A shudder ran down her spine as she remembered the cold prison, the endless wandering through the halls and the continuous calling of the ring on her finger.

“Here,” he took off his cloak, hanging it over her shoulders and draping it in a motherly gesture around her.

The warmth of the large cloak was reassuring. Thorin's harsh words echoed through her mind. He said them in anger, but they still hurt like a knife to her heart. Bella had endured his cold glances and comments on her every move. She was used to them by now. Still, there had been this tiny bit of hope it might be different this time.

Her hands clutched the soft cloak, pulling it closer around her. Bofur had always been there for her. Looking out and after her. When she had dangled from the cliff he had been the first to search. When she was lost in the woods, he had been the first to notice.

Bella turned around, her gaze meeting his eyes. Yes, she could trust Bofur. She could tell him and he surely wouldn’t deem her mad. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed a bit.

“When Dwalin knocked on my door, I had the feeling as if I had woken up from a very long dream,” her gaze trailed off into the starry night sky, “I had dreamed of an adventure. I would leave my trusted home to run off into the blue. I would go onto a journey together with thirteen dwarrows and a wizard, to face a dragon. One of them would hold on to a map and a key, granting them access to a secret passageway into the mountain. On our way we would meet the elves, stumble into a fight between giants and escape from goblins. We would ride eagels and befriend a giant bear, run from long forgotten enemies only to lose our way temporarily. We would break out of a prison, to nearly drown. And finally… we would face the dragon,” she paused, turning around to look in his eyes.

After listening to her words Bofur eyed her carefully. There was something in the way she looked at him, something in the depth of her eyes he couldn’t identify. Her gaze wandered from his eyes to the floor and up to the stars again.

From his position it looked like there had been a veil surrounding her, which now was removed. Right now in this moment he could see the true her. Too curious about what she would tell him next, he didn’t dare to move nor ask all the questions that were burning on his tongue. Bofur only took another sip from his drink, waiting for her to continue.

“The dragon died… Erebor was reclaimed, but the worst was still to come,” her voice broke.

He could see her hands clenched around the railing, trembling. Suddenly the air felt cooler, the wind harsher and in the distance he could hear cries, and smell iron and wet earth. Her small silhouette looked bigger, stronger. She had the air of a steeled warrior around her, the aura of pain, loss and heartbreak.

Bofur swallowed, it felt as if there was a completely different person standing in front of him. This didn’t feel like the gentle hobbit lass he had traveled with. He realized that they knew nothing about her. Nothing about her past, nor her family or the reason why she joined them on their journey.

“The battle… I had never seen something like that before. So much death… Blood everywhere. I still have nightmares. Every night. I see them lying before me. Beaten, bloodied… dead. I was too late, we all came too late. I lost my friends, my family, my… love. I saw them die before my eyes, unable to stop it. If I just would have been a bit stronger, a bit faster!” her fist slammed down onto the cold stone, which made Bofur nearly jump, “I hear them cry, beg, accuse me every damn night,” again and again her hand slammed into the stone.

Her whole body started to tremble and he could hear the muffled sound of sobbs. She was crying, bitterly. Honestly. His hand was just about to touch her shoulder when she abruptly straightened herself. Her eyes fixed onto a point in the distance.

“I thought for a long time I might have lost my mind. I lost my mind and nobody would believe me. I apologise, it must be quite confusing for you. But this life is different. I will be fine even if I lose my mind. For them… for him, I don’t mind,” her voice trailed off, only leaving the grave-like silence of the night.

It took Bofur a moment to take in all the new information he had acquired. Wait… ‘love’? ‘for him’? He took a step closer. His back leaned against the railing, tapping out the pipe. The cheerful grin had vanished from his face. From his position he could see her face clearer. The full moon came forth between the clouds, illuminating her features and filling her eyes with a ghost-like silver shine.

“I believe you. This story is too crazy to be made up… Answer me just one question… who?” his eyes locked onto her, waiting for a response.

“He kissed me,” her voice broke as she gently brushed over her lower lip, “with his last breath he called me something. Even now I do not know the meaning of it. Out of fear, I guess. I don’t want it to hurt all the more,” a single tear ran down her cheek.

Bofur's stomach tied itself into a tight knot while his heart felt as if a giant, ice-cold hand was clenching it tightly. He bit his tongue so as not to ask the question burning like hot coals on his tongue.

“I tried!” she cried out, scaring two birds out of the trees, “I went to the far east, all the way up north and then down south. I climbed so many mountains and traveled the skies. I’ve been among the clouds. I tried it all, but I can’t get him out of my mind. I am not able to forget him because he is my home,” her voice broke again, turning into a suffocated sob.

Bofur did the only thing he could think of and pulled her into a tight hug. She was shaking like a scared rabbit facing a wolf. How had she been able to endure this madness all by herself? Without a second thought he brushed over her hair and back, trying to calm her down. Something wet hit his shirt and through all the sobbing and fabric he nearly overheard her words.

“He is so stubborn… always had been,” well, that applied to all dwarrows he knew of.

Dwalin? No, otherwise she wouldn’t have accepted him as her brother. Bombur had a wife and Bifur would have told him surely. Kili or Fili? Too young to worry about such things. Thorin? No. Thorin was, well, Thorin. His thoughts were interrupted by another wave of sobs.

“I-I love him. I do. I should have told him that. Even now I search for reasons to stay near him, to be close, because I need him. I don’t want to lose him again. I wouldn’t be able to survive that. I just... can’t,” he rubbed her back in circles as he had done so many times before with his family as they mourned the fallen.

“He was… He… He called me ‘amrâlimê’… Before he kissed me… Before he…” died, finished Bofur her sentence as her voice trailed off once more.

Bofur froze in his very motion. Did he hear correctly? Amrâlimê? Surely he had misheard. She shifted in his arms, stiffening. As she straightened herself his coat slipped off her shoulders. The sobbing had subsided and nothing but the faint red shadow around her eyes indicated that she had been crying.

“Stupid stubborn ass of a king,” he heard Bella mutter while staring up to the stars, “I made up my mind. I will no longer live in the past, because I can change the future.”

“Thorin?! You mean like in our Thorin?!” Bofur gaped at her, dropping his pipe, “Wait, wait, wait… this is… Thorin? Really?”

Fili and Kili had entered the grand hall some time earlier, proudly boasting about having gained a sister. They had whispered with Balin, stealing glances at Thorin. The king could have guessed what all of that was about. His guess was proven as Balin came over to him, a meaningful look in his eyes and a determined expression on his face.

“You have to talk to her, Thorin. She is essential to our quest. And all of us can see how you look at her, the glances you give her when you think nobody is looking, how you care for her wellbeing. Taking breaks when she tires, slipping parts of your rations into her pack and making sure she is safe when the path gets rough. I am advising you as a friend. You ought to do the right thing. Apologise. You know as well your words were too harsh. Best you don’t let my brother hear about this, or you may get more than just an earful,” Balin spoke in a stern voice.

The older dwarf patted Thorin on the shoulder before he left to join his brother. Thorin watched his company, his friends, merrily playing with the food, singing and enjoying themselves. Was Balin right? He did care for her and caught himself red-handed more often as time had gone by, watching the gentle creature. He made sure she slept near the fire and that she was never too far from him or Dwalin. He worried constantly when she rode alone in the back or disappeared in the evenings. He gritted his teeth when he saw the hobbit lass hugging Dwalin or sleeping nestled in the other dwarves’ arms.

Bofur had just slipped back inside as Balin had finished his lecture. Immediately the mood got a bit lighter. It might have been his cheerful personality, but more likely the message he brought with him.

“Aye, our lady is all better and hungry like a little pebble!”

Thorin relaxed and exhaled the breath he had held in. He raised his head as two familiar, furry boots stopped right in front of him. The dwarf owning the shoes wore a completely unusual expression on his face. Was that grief and deep-rooted pain he spotted behind his brown beard?

“You better not ruin it again. She had been through more than enough already. Most of which was your fault!” Bofur grumbled, right before turning around and squeezing himself between Bombur and Oin.

Thorin had no time to answer, nor to fully process what was going on. Suddenly the room went silent. The dwarrows turned their heads, just like they had done when Bofur entered. Gandalf and Lord Elrond interrupted their conversation to watch the hobbit lass enter.

She was wearing a plain white dress, the curly hair openly flowing over her back. Mahal, she was beautiful. How come she could converse with the other dwarrows so naturally? How come she could smile so easily with them? How was she able to converse with those bloody elves?!

He wasn’t staring, was he? Hastily he looked away, but his gaze would always be drawn right back to her. Thorin noticed the red puffiness around her eyes, the faint biting marks on her lower lip and the slight tremble of her fingers whenever she gestured or pointed something out. She didn’t eat as much as she would need to.

Wait, was she coming over? After all he had said, how could she still come over so casually? He had obviously hurt her very much, he had no right to talk to her, no right to see her.

Once again he caught himself staring. He lowered his head, inspecting the tips of his shoes with way too much interest. Two furry large feet stopped right in front of him. The room went quiet, if it was due to Bofur jumping on the table or being close to the burglar, he did not know.

“May I have this dance?” the soft voice of his burglar brought him back.

Like an idiot he stared at her extended hand. Such a small palm, slender fingers and soft skin. How could he have brought this gentle creature on their quest? Now her skin was bruised and split open where the hilt of the sword had dug deep into her flesh. He had no right to ruin her life. Bofur was right. So why, why couldn’t he say no to those eyes?!

“My pleasure,” he grumbled into his beard, she probably wouldn’t have understood it.

To his surprise she giggled, grabbed his hand with much more strength than he would have ever thought she could possess and dragged him into the center of the room.

Bella placed her hands in the rough palms of the dwarven king, a warm tingly feeling rushing through her body. This was like a dream coming true. It had been so long since she had danced, danced with her love and a heart lighter than a feather.

Bofur's song cleared her head and filled her with joy. She lifted her head and their eyes met. It felt just like back then, but this time his hands were warm, no blood wetted the ground and she wasn’t losing him.

“I love you, Thorin Oakenshield, always have and always will. When you left me I never thought I might get another chance to ever see you again, but here we are. Together once more. When you entered my home for the second time now, I considered just not letting you leave. But for that to happen I most likely would have needed to break your legs. I also thought about letting you leave on this cursed mission of yours, but the uncertainty of what might have happened to you would have brought me to the grave. So I came along. And I would have followed you a thousand times more. I can’t stand a world without you any longer, I experienced it once, that was more than enough,” she looked him in the eyes, the words withering on her tongue like a whispered cry for help, and pressed her lips tightly together, swallowing the truth and with that her feelings.

Not a single word left her mouth.

His face was straight, unmoved by the dance, by the music… by her. Only in his eyes she could spot the hint of something familiar. For a moment there he looked just like ‘her’ Thorin. But he wasn’t ‘him’.

“I-” he averted his gaze from her eyes, “I should apologize for my rude outburst earlier, I-” she interrupted him by letting go of his hands and stopping their aimless spinning through the room. She opened her mouth as if to say something and nearly set free the words she had held back earlier. Instead she raised her hand, telling him to wait.

“I missed this, I missed you. And no matter what you say I will follow you. I will not let you die again,” she spoke, staring in his deep blue eyes, her vision slightly blurred from another wave of tears, but a smile let her glow from the inside out.

This would have to be enough for the moment. Yes, this was fine. Being able to stand by his side was enough for now.

Thorin flinched at her honest statement, the meaning of her words still hadn’t reached him fully. She missed him? How could she have missed him? He had never met her before that day he had knocked on her door, before he had dragged this gentle creature out of her home and her peaceful life.

For a moment his mind wandered back to the second he first laid eyes on the small hobbit lass. So soft and weak, yet headstrong and fiercer than a cornered dragon. Beautiful. So beautiful he couldn’t help but to stare. He had been rude and mean even though she had shared her home and food with them.

Even now he could only stare at her, stare at this wonderful creature Mahal had let him meet. He wanted to say something, ask her what she meant. Ask her why she would miss him, why she was able to make him question all his decisions, even himself. Ask his hobbit how she was able to give him the feeling of home, of peace.

“I am still a bit drowsy and the wounds keep acting up, so I should probably retire early today,” she said apologetically.

Both of them knew it was not true. She moved too fluently, too gracefully in the king's eyes for her injuries to still hinder her. She bit her lip again, like she did more often these days, forcing herself to smile at him, hoping her face looked reassuring and calm and not like the painful grimace it felt like.

His hand twitched. He needed all his willpower not to just grab her and trace the bite marks on her lower lip with his thumb until they disappeared. A thousand promises and ideas rushed through his mind, which he could whisper into her ears to make her forget the sadness, the pain, his own idiotic behaviour. He just wanted to see her smile again.

“Bel… Bella-”

“Good night, master Oakenshield.”

She didn’t even call him by his name. This fact felt like one of Dwalin’s punches right in the stomach. Why did she not call him like she had when they had first met and when the trolls had attacked them. Thorin would never admit it to himself, but it felt right when she called him by his name, he felt at peace.

Only now the whole meaning of the words she had spoken earlier reached him. That last sentence she had whispered, what was the meaning of her words? Not letting him die… ‘again’?! Something was not right. Before he could even try following her, a large muscular figure stepped into his way.

“What did you say to my sister? She left so fast I wasn’t even able to speak to her.”

His best friend towered over him. With a short nod towards the king's nephews, Dwalin managed to send them after the hobbit. Thorin worried about her wellbeing more than he would like to admit, she hadn’t eaten nearly enough. Maybe it would be better to follow her, after all. Sure, his nephews would look after their new sister like Dori watched over Ori, still… there was this uneasiness inside him, whenever Bella was out of sight.

“Tell me the truth, Thorin. Do you like her?”

Masterpost

AO3

@stuckupstucky @shrimpsthings

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ahrorha · 3 years ago

Text

The Splintered Road

Hey,

So this is my second attempt at a fanfic. This time it is about my second favourite elf Fenris. (That voice....melts)

I know Dragon Age II got a lot of hate, but I truly loved the game and its compact setting of a single city. I liked the concept of what happens if you are the town's hero and how much crap you have to deal with if you are the go-to person for everyone. I found the companions you got phenomenal, they had all their flaws, and even if the time jumps were a little awkward at times, I got really invested in their development and the many disagreements you can have as a group of friends.

This story will add another OC to the mix of friends in Kirkwall. I like to add things to stories and give them my own spin ;) I hope you will enjoy my take on Kirkwall through the eyes of one of Hawke's companions, rather than focusing on the main character himself.

Chapter 1

A forest covered the jagged landscape, its deciduous trees slowly changing colour with the onset of autumn. A shallow river rushed over rocks and fallen trees through it, carving a winding path down the Vinmark Mountains. The sun was setting, casting long shadows between the trees and the moss-covered rock formations. A halla stepped out of the brushwood, listening cautiously before lowering its horned head to drink from the river. Abruptly it raised its head again when it heard the sound of naked feet drawing closer. On the opposite side of the river, a hooded figure appeared. For a moment, they both stared at each other; not sensing any danger, the halla lowered its head again and resumed drinking from the river.

Yssil's piercing amber eyes looked carefully around before lowering her hood. Not wanting to startle the halla, she kept her movements slow and calm. Her left ear twitched as the hood's fabric slipped over the sensitive tip. Kneeling down, she washed her hands before drinking from the river. Her dark brown wavy hair dropped from behind her ear, obscuring her view. Annoyed, she pushed it back, wondering if she should cut it and make life easier for herself. But as soon as she thought it, she remembered her mother and how she combed her hair every evening and morning when she was a child. No, she wouldn't cut it. Not now; she was finally able to grow it again. With a sigh, she shook her head, shaking the memories of the past away. Now was not the time to dwell on them.

She observed her surroundings anew; the terrain had slowly changed in the last couple of days. Though the landscape was still rocky and uneven, she was clearly descending from the mountains. The pine trees had disappeared, making way for oaks and other deciduous trees, and the underbrush was becoming thicker. It was also slowly becoming warmer, though that wouldn't last. With the beginning of autumn, the nights would soon grow colder, and the weather would turn fouler, just like today. She eyed the thick clouds gathering above her head. It wouldn't stay dry much longer. At least with the lower altitude, it became easier for her to breathe.

No, Yssil felt relieved that she finally managed to pass the high peaks of the Vimmark Mountains. The journey hadn't been easy, and it had depleted the few reserves she had. She looked at her thin wrist, cursing that she again had lost some weight. With a sigh, she looked down the river; at least in this forest, she would be able to find more food. And maybe when she eventually would reach the coast of the Waking Sea, she could find a place where she could stay for a while. She sure needed it after months of travelling.

As relieved as she was that she soon would reach the coast, it was also worrisome. It had been her goal for such a long time that now she was finally near it, her nerves started to kick in. She would need to make a decision on what her next move would be. On the one hand, she could try to find a place in one of the smaller villages along the coast. It would be easy to find simple work and make a living, but villages were terrible places to hide. Gossip was ripe in those places, and she would need to be careful not to be sold out to the next slaver or templar. Like it happened in the last place she had tried to stay.

Her other option was to head east to Ostwick or west to Kirkwall and disappear in the anonymity of living in a big city. It would be more challenging to make a living, but no one in a city looked twice at a poor knife-ear. And maybe she would be lucky and find a family that needed a maid or a storekeeper looking for diligent hands. There was also the possibility to travel even farther south, to Ferelden. But that required funds to pay for a ship voyage, money that she didn't have at the moment.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a deep rumble in the sky. Above her head, the trees were swooshing by the wind that had picked up. Yssil shook her head. Here she was worrying about money when she had other problems to deal with. Soon it would start to rain, and by the sound of it, it would be an ugly night. Luckily she already had found a place to shelter, an old abandoned hut, broken and decaying, but it would keep her dry enough. The bummer was that she wouldn't have time to scout this area any further without getting wet.

“You should also find a place to stay.” Yssil murmured to the halla that had started to graze. Quickly she refilled her waterskin when she noticed a stump of a cut-down tree. She cursed silently; this was already the third one she had spotted. She must be closer to a village or a road than she thought.

Suddenly the halla raised its head, its ears twitching nervously, before it bolted, startling Yssil. She listened and could hear weapons clashing in the distance. Quickly she got to her feet, moving back into the forest, away from whoever was fighting.

“GET HIM!” someone yelled.

Yssil froze; someone was being pursued.

“Surround him!”

Shaking her head, she turned back and skipped over the rocks across the river. Berating herself that this was a terrible idea. Quietly she slipped through the trees, moving carefully closer to the fight.

“Venhedis.” Fenris cursed.

Even with the detour of not taking the direct route to Kirkwall, the hunters had found him. He shouldn't have travelled the trade route through the mountains, now the hunters had caught up with him again. In an attempt to lose them, he had abandoned the road and fled into the forest. But it hadn't helped. The hunters had moved quickly and efficiently and now were surrounding him. These were no ordinary slavers but a group of seasoned hunters. Danarius must have paid them well for them to come all the way out here.

Their leader, a broad warrior with a heavy war hammer, stepped forward. “Stand down, slave!”

The words cut Fenris deep, fuelling his anger.

How far did he need to run before they would leave him alone?

When would he finally be free?

In a smooth motion, he grabbed his greatsword.

“I am NOT a slave!” he yelled as his markings flared. Enraged, he stormed forward. His sword slashing one of the hunters, cutting him open across his chest, ending his despicable life. Without a pause, he turned towards his next target. Under Danarius, he had trained for these kinds of situations. He had fought droves of men for hours until his body gave out from exhaustion. Over and over again, he had been punished for not fighting longer. Now he would make use of that training. He would make these slavers regret the day they decided to hunt him.

“GET HIM!” their leader yelled, and the hunters stormed towards him.

With care, Yssil climbed onto a rock formation and glanced down onto the clearing. She couldn't believe her eyes when she saw an elven warrior fight against a large group of men. His markings flashing as he moved with grace and speed from foe to foe. He was wielding a sword as long as he himself was. But it didn't seem to hinder him. As if the sword weighed nothing, he swung the sword around, felling the men that opposed him.

With an open mouth, she stared at the fight. Suddenly the elf's markings flashed again, and he disappeared only to reappear again behind another foe, cutting him down. Those markings, his abilities, she recognised them from the stories she had heard. It had to be Fenris, Danarius' fabled magical creation and bodyguard.

But what was he doing here?

She watched as he spun around, swinging his sword at another opponent, a big warrior handling a war hammer. It looked like he was the group leader, and he was barking orders while fighting Fenris. Many of his men were already dead or lay wounded on the ground, but the leader managed to stand his ground against the lean elf.

Fear ran through Yssil when she noticed two men carrying mancatchers, trying to close in on Fenris. She also noticed that some of the men had shackles hanging from their belts.

They were slavers. She needed to get away from here.

“This will get him.” she heard someone muttering below her.

Slowly she looked down over the edge of the rocks she hid on and saw two archers below her. They were tipping their arrowheads into a sticky substance.

“He will never know what hit him.” one of them grinned.

His companion was laughing dirty. “He is getting tired; he can't keep this speed up for much longer.”

“The boss will keep his attention.”

With care, they both aimed their bows at Fenris.

Startled, she realised they were going to try and poison him.

“Watch out! Behind you!” she yelled without thinking, but it was too late. The arrows flew already towards their mark.

Fenris heard the unexpected yell. On instinct and after years of combat training, he turned his body slightly, dodging another sweep of the war hammer and let his marking flare. He noticed an arrow flying past him, but at the same time, he was hit by another one. A piercing pain flared up from his right shoulder, but he had no time to deal with the archers as the slave leader increased his attacks.

There was a sudden flash behind him as parts of a huge overhanging rock exploded into pieces and crashed down. Judging by the screams, several people were buried under the rubble. Distracted by the explosion, the group leader before him looked past him. In a blink of an eye, Fenris took the opportunity and punched his fist inside the man's chest, crushing his heart.

Fenris blinked and shook his head as his vision started to blur. A cold numbness was slowly spreading through him. His right shoulder and arm were slowly becoming stiff and unresponsive. Venhedis! He realised that they had used poison. Gritting his teeth, he rushed to the next hunter. He needed to finish this fight before the poison would take its full effect. Only three hunters left, but they tried to encircle him, attacking him from different sides. He parried one blow, coming from the left, leaving his right side open. With poison in his system, he wasn't quick enough to turn away and dodge the attack that came from the right.

A sharp pain erupted from his side as one of the hunter's took advantage of his weakened state. Fenris was hit by his waist, and he quickly jumped backwards. Panting heavily, he was facing his attackers, but the world looked more blurry by the minute. His movements felt sluggish. He was running out of time.

Suddenly an arrow flew past him, hitting a hunter in his chest, killing him.

Another arrow was shot; it missed but distracted the remaining two hunters. This was his chance.

Crying out, Fenris' markings flared as he leapt forward, his sword slashing through the air, hitting the remaining hunters in their chests. They flew back from his powerful attack. One hunter fell and didn't move anymore; the other managed to stay on his feet. But before he could take a step, he was hit by another arrow, ending the hunter's life.

Finally, it was over. Breathing heavily, Fenris staggered. Struggling to stay on his feet, he leaned on his sword. He blinked several times as the world started to spin. He squinted his eyes and could just make out a figure moving in the distance. But before he could focus, everything went dark, and he fell to the ground.

After Fenris fell over, Yssil slowly stepped into the clearing. Over a dozen hunters lay on the ground, some of them still moving and moaning. Drawing her dagger, she slit the throat of the first one before quickly moving to the next. She couldn't and wouldn't allow them to recover.

Having finished her bloody task, she carefully approached Fenris. She was hesitant to touch him, fearing he would jump up at any minute. His tinted skin was marked with swirling white lines that crept up his arms and neck like vines. She could only imagine he had them all over his body. She could feel the faint hum of the lyrium that was contained within them. Hesitantly she brushed her fingers over them; they were slightly raised from his skin, like faint scars imbued with lyrium. She could instantly feel the hum of the lyrium under her fingertips. She also noticed how his skin was irritated around the lyrium edges. They must hurt him constantly, she realised.

She had heard stories of his wondrous markings, but she always thought it was simply that, just stories. Now she saw those stories were genuine, making this situation only more dangerous for her. Pushing her fears aside, she checked Fenris' vitals. He was still breathing, but he was seriously injured. Yssil cursed silently. Why did she get herself involved? And what should she do now?

She looked around. What a mess she got herself into this time. Not only had she an unconscious dangerous warrior to deal with, but she was also out in the open, surrounded by corpses. She half expected more hunters to appear at any second. Looking back at Fenris, she thought of leaving him here and disappear back into the forest, where she would be safe. Why was he even here, she wondered? Had he been free since his escape? Or was he send here to find her? She shook her head, no that wasn't likely; no one knew she was here. She sighed, knowing she could hardly leave him here.

Above her head, another thunder sounded, and the first drops fell from the sky. “Great! Just what I needed.” she grumbled. “Come on! You have started this.” she said to herself and walked towards the corpse of the leader. The hole in his chest was clearly visible, and where his heart had once been was just pulp. She almost gagged at the sight but managed to strip him from his cloak.

Now, how had her father explained the construction of a stretcher again?

The downpour of rain was the first thing Fenris heard.

His head was pounding, and his body hurt, but that was nothing new. Still dazed, he felt someone touching his shoulder. His reaction was immediate. His eyes shot open, and ignoring his wounds, he twisted around. The person let out a startled yell as he grabbed and pinned whoever it was to the ground. To his surprise, it was a woman, another elf. Terrified, she stared at him.

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice low and threatening. Having one hand at her throat, he squeezed.

Shaken by his abrupt use of force, Yssil stared at him. The few counts of hesitation were enough for him to get the upper hand. He used his strength and heavier body to pin her down. As he squeezed her throat shut, she panicked. Desperately she grabbed his hand and tried to pry it away, but his grip was like iron. With a deadly glare, he slowly strangled her. She couldn't breathe; she needed to get away.

A wave of force hit Fenris in the chest, and he was hurled back.

A mage!

Fenris shook his head as he tried to get up. Pain pierced through him from his wounds, agitated by his rough landing. Angry, he venomously glared at the woman, who scrambled quickly backwards until her back hit the wall. She was coughing heavily and drew an old dagger.

Of course, she is a filthy blood mage, he thought. He was about to use his markings and jump towards her. But to his surprise, she just held the dagger in front of her, pointing it towards him. Her hands were shaking.

“You lost consciousness.” she coughed. “I was treating your wounds.”

Not taking his eyes off of her, Fenris quickly scanned his surroundings. They were in what looked like an abandoned broken hut. Outside, night had already fallen, and it was raining heavily. The forest outside was occasionally illuminated by lighting, followed by the rolling sound of thunder. The hut itself was in a sore state, the wood had rotted away in several places, and the roof had several holes where the rain leaked through. A small fire burned not far from him, with a small pot hanging over it. Next to the fire, on some broad leaves, lay a collection of herbs, a bowl with steaming water, a small knife and clean strips of linen. In another corner lay his sword and armor.

“Please, we need to get the arrowhead out.”

He focussed back on her; she looked thin and exhausted like so many other elves. Her skin was olive in colour and slightly darker than his own. Her clothes were a strange mismatched mix of leather and cloth. They didn't fit her properly and were mended in several places. His first thought was that she was Dalish, but she missed the telltale vallaslin. She stared at him, and he could tell she was frightened. She was also missing the air of arrogance and confidence he expected from any mage. What was going on?

“Please, let me treat your wounds.” she lowered her dagger.

“Stay where you are, witch!”

“There is still poison in your wound. If more slavers come to search for their comrades, they will catch us. I can't fight them alone. Please let me help.”

From all the things this mage would say to him, this would have been last on his list. She pointed to the corner. “There are your things. You can hold your weapon if you want, but let me get that arrowhead out.”

Fenris couldn't deny that he was still feeling dizzy, and he could feel the warm wetness of blood seeping out from his waist. His abrupt movements must have reopened the wound. Also, his shoulder burned with pain, and he could feel the arrowhead pierce his flesh with each move he made. There was a numbness radiating down into his right arm. The witch was right; that arrowhead needed to come out.

Quickly he went to his possessions and took his dagger from his belt. He needed a more practical weapon in these close quarters if he needed to take the witch out. Then he stalked over to her, grabbed her dagger and threw it to the other side of the cottage. She flinched from his action, and he could feel the fear in her. Good! She had every reason to be afraid. He sat back down next to the bandages, pointing at her with his dagger.

“Make it quick and no sudden movements. Also, no magic!”

She nodded her head. “I promise no magic.”

Weary of him, Yssil moved closer. After washing her hands, she grabbed the small knife she had prepared.

Fenris readied himself to stab her if she made a wrong move.

“Here, chew these. It will help with the pain.” She offered him a few leaves of elfroot.

“No need.” he growled.

He needed to stay alert and watch her every move. Looking over his shoulder, he observed how she hesitantly touched him. Suppressing the revolt, he felt, from being touched by a mage again, he watched her work. With greater care than he expected, she carefully widened the wound. To her credit, her hands were more steady than he expected. He could practically feel her nervousness. Soon though, the wound was wide enough for her to get hold of the arrowhead.

“This will hurt.” she took hold of the remaining shaft and started to pull.

Fenris gritted his teeth and groaned as the barbed arrowhead pulled free from his flesh. Immediately Yssil started to press the wound to encourage the bleeding. Then she used the elfroot tea, she had prepared, to flush the wound. Satisfied the injury was clean, and there were no traces of the poison left, she took her boiled needle and threat. Stitching evenly, she slowly closed the wound as best as she could. After that, she bandaged it with a compress of elfroot and healing moss.

“This will help close it faster and prevent an infection.” she explained.

Fenris noticed she was touching him as little as possible during the whole procedure, which he welcomed. It was already bad enough he had to accept the help of an unknown mage.

When she was finished, she moved to wash his other wound, but he grabbed the cloth out of her hands.

“Don't!”

Yssil let go of the cloth and moved back. The more distance there was between them, the better, she thought. She kept a weary eye on him as Fenris cleaned and bandaged the wound himself. The wound at his side was luckily not deep, but the cut was in an inconvenient place and would easily reopen again if he wasn't careful. When he was finished, he put his armor back on. Though she noticed, he didn't let her out of his sight.

At least he hadn't killed her …... yet, she thought.

After cleaning up her meagre healing supplies, she turned her attention to her cooking pot. Carefully she put half of the wild vegetables and some of the rabbit meat in a bowl. It wasn't much, and she hadn't expected she had to share her rations. She lifted the pot with a piece of cloth and brought it towards him.

“Here, you need to eat. I have only one bowl, so don't burn yourself.” she handed him the pot with her spoon.

Retreating back towards the other side of the fire, she sat down and began to eat.

Fenris eyed her wearily, and he waited for her to start to eat first. Occasionally she glanced at him while she ate. She was as wary of him as he was of her. Now in the light of the fire, and taking his time to observe her. He noticed that one of her ears was frayed; someone had crudely cut off the tip with what looked like a blunt knife.

“Aren't you hungry?” she asked him after having already finished half of her meal.

He watched her some more, but nothing happened to her, so he decided it was safe enough for him to eat. It was a simple but good meal. He noticed how hungry he was; with the hunters on his tail, he had little rest, and his last meal was three days ago.

Seeing Fenris finally eat calmed Yssil down. Judging by his demeanour, he was wary of her, but it didn't look like he would attack her. She shouldn't get herself involved. Now she had to deal with the dangers of him and having a group of hunters too close for comfort. Who knows if those hunters weren't also looking for her. She eyed him again; he was still watching her. Could she trust him? He looked tired but was physical in a much better shape than herself. Not that it did matter; if he wanted to harm her, she knew she was in no condition to fight him off.

You made your choice when you yelled to warn him, she reminded herself.

Having finished her bowl, she grabbed her blanket and wrapped it around herself.

“It has been a long day. Good night.” she said to him.

Hoping she would still be alive the following day, she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

Bewildered, Fenris watched her fall asleep. He couldn't believe she would simply go to sleep after he had attacked her. She was acting like the total opposite of what he expected from a mage. Why had she even helped him? What was her motive, her agenda? Not trusting her, he kept his sword at hand and leaned back against the cottage wall. He wouldn't sleep tonight, but he needed a place to rest, and with the storm outside, this hut was at least dry.

It was in the early morning when Fenris startled out of his sleep. He must have been more tired than he thought. Immediately he searched for the mage, but she was still bundled up in her blanket. Sunlight fell into the hut through the door opening and the holes in the roof. The storm outside had finally settled down. He wondered where in the forest he was; she couldn't have brought him far on her own. He could hear the rushing of a river close by. The mage stirred, and he whipped his head back around to watch her.

Yssil stretched and yawned before she got another coughing fit. Quickly she took a piece of the dried embrium roots she kept in her pouch. There were only a few pieces left; she needed to find another plant soon. With her cough residing, she looked at Fenris, who was staring at her. Slowly she began to pack her things.

“How is your wound?” she asked.

He moved his shoulder, it was a little stiff, but it wasn't hurting as much.

“Better.” he grumbled.

“That is good to hear. If you want, I can try to heal your shoulder.” she offered.

“No!”

Taking out a few herbs, she packed them carefully in a strip of cloth. “Here. You need to change your bandage around midday. You can use these to help with the healing process.”

Saying nothing, he took them and watched as she finished packing. Shouldering her pack and bow, she walked outside. Not wanting to leave her out of his sight Fenris grabbed his sword and bag and followed her.

She was pointing to the left. “Over there is where you were attacked.” she explained. “I hope you will find your way back and won't encounter any more trouble.” she smiled nervously at him. “Goodbye, and stay safe.”

He stared after her as she walked away until she disappeared between the trees. It was strange; she had helped him and didn't demand anything from him in return. He had checked his few belongings while she slept and had found them undisturbed. It didn't matter anyway; she was a mage and couldn't be trusted.

Weary for any signs of trouble, he walked in the direction she had pointed out. After not five minutes, he came to the clearing where the hunters lay. Moving between the corpses, he noticed a few of them had their throats slit. She must have done it, preventing any of the hunters to recover from their wounds. It dawned on him that had she not been there, he would have been captured. It confused him; why had she risked her life to help him? What was her motive? He knew his own value, especially to a mage, but she hadn't touched his lyrium nor asked for any compensation.

Leaving the clearing, he moved back to the road when the sound of a distant scream pricked his ears. He whirled around; it had come from the direction she had disappeared to. He listened but heard nothing further. The sound had been very faint, and if he hadn't been an elf, he doubted he would have heard it. Hearing nothing more, he turned back and began to walk again. Whatever it had been, it had nothing to do with him. He froze when another scream reached his ears.

It didn't take Yssil long to reach the river. She felt anxious; she needed to get deeper into the forest. There were too many traces here left by people, and when a group of slavers suddenly could show up, it was not a place she wanted to stay. If the map she had copied was correct, this forest would expand farther to the south, and any roads would lead to the villages to the west. Hoping she wouldn't encounter anything else, she decided to keep following the river; it was a valuable source of water and food.

After a few minutes, she heard the bleating sound of a deer in distress. Quickening her step, she soon found a deer lying between the trees with two arrows sticking out of its flank. It trashed around, trying to get back on its feet, but it was too weak from blood loss. Judging by the blood and the stirred up ground, it had already been here for a while, slowly succumbing to its wounds. It bleated again, panting heavily. Shocked by her find, Yssil froze and listened, but she couldn't hear anything but the deer and the rushing of the river.

She hesitated for a moment before she approached the deer; judging by its state, the hunter had lost its track. Looking around, she tried to come closer, but the deer only trashed around more. It looked at her with wide, panicked eyes. The deer was too far gone for her to help; there was nothing she could do but end its suffering. With the deer thrashing around, she didn't dare to come close enough to use her knife; she charged her hand with magic.

“At least I can give you a quick death.” she muttered.

A twig snapped behind her.

“Told you the deer had to be somewhere. Never expected to find a mage with it, though.”

Two hunters with bows came through the bushes towards her. To her horror, they both had a flaming sword engraved on their armor.

Templars!

They would catch her; she needed to get away. Springing to her feet, she ran.

Out of nowhere, a force hit Yssil. She screamed as she was knocked to the ground. She couldn't breathe, her mana, her connection to the Fade, her magic was gone. Gasping for air, she saw a third templar stepping out from the bushes in front of her. Roughly he took her left arm and twisted it behind her back; with his other hand, he grabbed her by the neck. He knelt down, placing his armored knee on her back, pinning her to the ground.

“What have we here?” he asked, his voice ice-cold. “A small, wild apostate and here I thought we were only hunting for our dinner tonight.”

With the templars weight pushing her down, Yssil struggled to breathe. She tried to push herself up, but the templar only pressed his knee down further and twisted her arm more.

“Let me go!” she called out.

“And why would we do that?”

The other templars had closed in on her; one had his sword drawn, the other grabbed her free arm and pushed up her sleeve, uncovering her scars. Disgusted, he let her arm fall again.

“A filthy blood mage, that's what she is.”

“I am not!” she shivered in fear. She was caught again. They would lock her up; she would be locked up again.

The templar, with his sword drawn, looked around. “Where there is one maleficar, there is usually more.”

The one holding her gave a hard jerk at her arm, making her scream in pain.

“Where is the rest knife-ear?”

“I am alone!” she cried out.

“You're lying!” he twisting her arm more. When she screamed out in pain, he grabbed her hair and pulled her head up, only to smack it back onto the ground. “Talk! Now!”

“There is no one.” she whimpered, feeling blood trickle down her face.

“We should just kill her and send a report. We can comb out these woods when the reinforcements arrive.”

“Good idea, but before that, let's have some fun.” the templar holding her let go of her head and slipped his hand into her leggings, grabbing her ass.

“NO!” she screamed and struggled, but the templar leaning on her had her trapped. Depleted from her magic, she had no way of escaping.

The sound of someone crashing through the bushes alerted them. The second templar also drew his sword, and they readied themselves.

Fenris jumped out from the woods and stopped, taking in the scene before him.

Two templars stood ready, their weapons drawn; a third had the mage pinned to the ground. Her forehead was bleeding, and she was struggling under the weight of the bigger and armoured man holding her.

Fenris narrowed his eyes when he saw the templars hand inside her leggings. He had always thought the south was blessed with their templars and circles, keeping magic and mages under strict control. He couldn't agree more of the necessity of their existence, but seeing the person that had helped him in pain, wounded and touched against her will gave him pause.

“Who are you!” One of the templars demanded.

“I knew it, where there is one knife-ear, there is always more. They are like rats. Take him for questioning!” the one holding the mage commanded.

“NO! Leave him alone!” Yssil yelled.

The templar holding her gave a jerk to her arm, making her whimper in pain. “Keep quiet knife-ear!”

The other two templars stepped towards Fenris. “By the templar order, you are under arrest.”

Fenris took a step back, unsure what he should do; he knew one thing, there was no way he would let himself get arrested. A sickening crack sounded, accompanied by a piercing scream as the mages arm gave way after the templar gave it another jerk. This made Fenris snap. He rushed towards the templars with a flash, cutting one down before they knew what hit them. The one holding the mage unleashed his power onto her again before jumping to his feet and storming towards him.

Fighting the other templar, Fenris watched with fascination at the effect the templar had on the mage. She was gasping for air as if an invisible fist had hit her, rendering her powerless and weak. With both templars attacking him, he shifted his attention back on his opponents. He needed to be careful, or he would open his wounds again. He jumped to the side as one of the templars tried to rush him. With ease, he swung around and cut the templar in his back. Though more seasoned than the simple bandits he often fought, he soon got the upper hand. After a few well-placed strikes, the second templar fell. What remained was the third templar, who tripped as he tried to retreat, making it easier for Fenris to kill him.

As quickly as the combat erupted, it was over. The forest turned back to its peaceful state with the singing of a few birds, the rustling of the trees and the river's rushing waters. Yssil slowly struggled to sit up, dazed by another smite. She had the feeling she was going to be sick. Whimpering, she cradled her arm that was twisted at an odd angle. She looked up at Fenris.

“Thank you.” she panted, wincing as another shot of pain went through her arm.

Fenris stood still, not knowing what he should do or feel. He wasn't expecting her thanks, nor was he expecting that he himself was helping a mage without an order nor command. He knew he didn't want the templars to take him, but it was more unsettling that he had acted because they were hurting her.

It shouldn't be that way. She was a mage; therefore, the templars had been in their right to hold her, and he had stopped them out of his own free will. Was it because he was conditioned to help a mage in need, or was it something else.

Angry and irritated, he watched as she staggered to her feet, her face twisted by pain. He readied himself when she bent down, taking a dagger from one of the templars. Only to watch her cut and break several branches from a nearby bush. Having only one arm available, it was a little difficult for her, but she managed it. Then she went to the river and submerged her broken arm in it to cool it down.

She looked back at him; her cheeks were wet with tears, and her face was pale from the pain.

“Could you help me, please? I need to set my arm.”

For a moment, he didn't move, then he stepped towards her. She had helped him when he was attacked and wounded; he owed her a favour in return. Promising himself that he would leave once her arm was taken care of, he knelt down beside her.

He took her arm in his hands and looked at her. After taking a few deep breaths, she nodded, and he pulled. She took a sharp breath and squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering. He could feel the bone slip back. Together they bound several of the straight branches against her arm, securing the break in place.

“Thank you.” she exhaled.

“You should heal yourself.” he grumbled, not believing he was suggesting a mage to use her magic.

She looked as surprised at him before shaking her head. “I... I can't.”

She must still be drained by that templar, he thought. Such a drain was a helpful ability, and he wondered how long it would last.

Yssil grabbed one of the elfroot leaves out of her pack and started to chew it to combat the pain. She was shaken, not wanting to know what may have happened if Fenris hadn't come to her aid. She could feel his eyes on her while she removed one of the fallen templars belts to make a sling for her arm. The pouches hanging from it she stuffed in her bag.

Slowly she calmed down, and she started to think. This is a problem, she thought, looking at her arm. With it broken, she would have a hard time continuing her journey through the forest. She looked at the, now bled out, deer not far from her. There was a good chance there were more templars; she needed to move fast. Knowing she had to take another risk, she turned back to Fenris, who was still watching her.

“I...” she walked towards him. “Would you please hear me out?”

He stared at her, his eyes narrowed, but slightly nodded when she waited for him to react.

“I think that we need to get out of here. With both, slavers and templars dead, there will be people coming to look for them, and I don't think those will be people you and I want to meet. I have a proposition. Judging by what I heard yesterday, those slavers were looking for you. These forests reach as far as the coast. I can guide you through them; we would be invisible from prying eyes. I won't lie to you; I will need help the next couple of days.” she gestured to her broken arm that rested in the sling. “Please, could you come with me? I can keep us invisible and fed until we reach the coast. Then we will part ways, and you don't have to see me ever again.”

He stared at her in disbelief.

With him saying nothing, she bit her lip nervously. “I... I will give you some time to think.”

She looked around; with or without him coming with her, she needed to move. Turning to the dead templars, she removed the remaining belts, stuffing them and their pouches into her bag. She would go through the pouches later. She also removed a scabbard with a shortsword and tied it around her waist. One of the templars had dropped a sack, turning it over; it contained some cooking equipment, clothing, an extra blanket and a small healing kit. She took the healing kit and rolled a shirt and the blanket up, and bound it to her own pack. All of it was done a little clumsy with having only one arm to work with, but she managed. At last, she went to the deer and roughly cut a piece of its hind legs off, putting it into her cooking pot. Afterwards, she cut into its guts, exposing them. She turned back to Fenris. “With luck, this will attract enough wildlife to cover our trail.”

Fenris had watched her quietly. He was stunned; she wasn't acting like any mage he had ever met. She said thank you and please like she meant it, and he couldn't detect any deception from her. He was also baffled how she stripped the corpses systematically, not wasting too much time. But he was wondering why she needed that sword. Her actions were so far off from what he was expecting that it threw him for a loop.

Having collected everything she needed, Yssil returned to the river and washed her hands and face. Luckily her wound on her forehead had closed, and feeling it, it wasn't too deep. She was ready to move. Fenris hadn't moved at all and was watching her like a hawk. Well, here goes nothing, she thought.

“If you want to come, then we need to leave now. It should get us enough of a head start to shake off any people that will come to investigate.”

She crossed the river and began to walk along the water to the south. After a few minutes, she turned around and smiled, relieved when she saw him following her.

Mimicking her path Fenris followed her. He didn't know exactly why, but the promise of a journey away from prying eyes was an offer he couldn't refuse. Also, he told himself it was better to keep an eye on this strange mage.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #fenris #fenris x oc #fenris dragon age #garrett hawke #fanfic #The Splintered Road

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thehouseofvs · 4 years ago

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[RP Journal - 1/20/2021] Valeria Camena: Gifts, Truths, and Consequences

I suppose this is going to become a thing now, isn’t it? The idea of keeping a journal like this still seems rather silly to me, but perhaps my thoughts will change as I continue writing. That said, I guess I should provide an update since my last entry. That’s how these work, right? After Rae-Hann and I boarded our flight out of Kugane, the trip went by relatively quick. At least, quicker than it would have, if we had decided to depart by ship as originally suggested. Though, perhaps that might have been the better option, given how anxious the airship flight seemed to make Rae. It’s actually rather amusing; I thought nothing seemed to phase the Mystel, but heights appear to have accomplished the impossible. Thankfully, we were able to take a small break with a brief lay-over in Limsa Lominsa. At least, enough for Rae to be at bit more at ease before we took off again for Ul’dah. The journey was uneventful, honestly - but we spent the time with brief discussions, moments of quiet, whatever Rae-Hann seemingly wanted to indulge in...not that I minded, honestly. He has been through a lot lately, so I did not want to bother him too much. With our arrival in Ul’dah, we temporarily stopped by the Quicksands to purchase a couple of rooms for the night...though, frankly, neither of us wanted to stay for long. Rae-Hann had to go and take care of the business he had originally come to the city to do, and I...well. The Quicksands is a rather filthy place - by far the dirtiest hub I’ve seen in Eorzea. I do not know how Mistress Momodi stands it. No, I preferred to be on my way.

And what was my business in Ul’dah? Well, certainly nothing like Rae-Hann’s. I decided to stop by the Goldsmith’s Guild, to see if I could have a piece of jewelry prepared. Back during Starlight, Rae-Hann had gifted me a crystal infused with his own aether; a source of color that was separate from himself. It is such a beautiful magenta hue...

To my pleasant surprise, the artisans at the Guild were very helpful - albeit for a price. Fair is fair, I suppose. I wanted a swift job, and they wanted swift coin. That’s the nature of things. One of the goldsmiths presented me a necklace design that would suit the crystal, and after approving and paying, all I had left to do was wait. With that business taken care of, I also took the chance to contact my handler, Rikotsu. He was one of the first people I met after fleeing Garlemald, and while I wouldn’t exactly call him a ‘friend’, he has been a reliable contact of mine who had helped me get started as a mercenary. He had been kind enough to watch over Anemo while I was away in the East - I informed him of my return to Eorzea, and that I would swing by to collect Anemo after some initial business. To my utter lack of surprise, Anemo was a good boy...a happy griffin indeed. Other than that, the two days that I had to wait until Rae-Hann was finished with his task were...uneventful, to say the least. I tried to spend a little time in the Quicksands’ bar area, but after the fifth lewd gentleman...and gentlewoman...caller, I decided to leave. The rest of the time was a blur, as I took the time to explore the city. Despite coming here many times, I’d never attempted to really look at Ul’dah. It has quite the beauty of it’s own, though I did find myself wondering how different it’d look if it were any other shade than gray...

At the end of the second day, I had gone to collect my necklace from the Goldsmith’s Guild - and conveniently ran into Rae-Hann on my way out with my new prize. He seemed pleased with the new look to the crystal, so I was happy that the both of us could appreciate it. When I looked him over a bit, he did not seem to have changed, or be hurt, or anything like that. Honestly, I do not know what I was expecting, exactly. Only that when we spoke in Shirogane, he said he might be ‘different’. Whatever it was, he wasn’t willing to share until we were beyond the city’s walls. Which was fair enough, given the nature of his...dealings. So we agreed to head further in-land, towards Drybone in Eastern Thanalan. And, of course, we teleported...Mother, I despite the aetheryte system. Always leaves me feeling queasy. And Rae-Hann knows that, too, and takes pleasure in my discomfort as a tease. Well, we’ll see how much he’s laughing when he’s forced to fly on Anemo’s back...

When we arrived in Drybone, the first thing we agreed to do was find a spot where we could talk without being interrupted, so we settled on the local tavern. Most of the folks here tend to mind their own business, due to the number of travelers that pass through. So we went inside, found a place to sit, and Rae began his retelling of the last couple of days’ events. And of course, as he typically does, Rae-Hann started by dropping a shrapnel charge; apparently, Siannault had come to visit him last night, but he was not certain if it was real, or some sort of vivid hallucination brought on by consuming Una’to’s blood. Needless to say, all that strung together gave me considerable worry, but I allowed him to continue his tale. Thankfully, he explained that beyond a decent dosage of Void-tainted aether, he had not undergone any other changes to his being. And when I examined him, he was right...mostly. The aether certainly did not appear to be reacting negatively to his own, but the once-vibrant magenta that I knew to be his own aether had become murky with that ill, sickly purple hue that I knew all too well. For him to willingly do this to himself...it hurt, thinking what would bring him to take such lengths. So I asked why.

According to Rae, recent events had made him reconsider his position in the world. He did not see himself as normal, like the other people in his life, so in some strange logic, he thought that by consuming the rest of Una’to’s offered blood, he’d change in a way that would make people recognize his differences from them. And he mentioned a name, ‘Skadi’. A necromancer...the one that had his soul. In his usual fashion, he tried to deflect from the conversation by having us go and see what jobs lay in store for us here in Drybone. But I wasn’t having it. I wanted him to talk to me, to open up...and I wanted to know more about this Skadi. Yet another damned monster who took advantage of a man through his suffering, and knowing that Rae-Hann was a victim of it made my blood practically boil. In the past, Rae had tried to convince me that not all Void-related entities were ‘evil’, but if this is what his associates were prone to do...well, maybe I’d have to make a visits when our journey has concluded. At the very least, the intervention of several parties over the last few days had apparently inspired Rae-Hann with the will and desire to live - to prolong his existence, and avoid the inevitable prison that waited for him after his death. We discussed of ways to prevent that from happening, but beyond convincing Skadi of revoking the contract, or simply killing her, our options were limited - not to mention we would have to wait until she contacted him again, anyway. I hate necromancers.

We didn’t have much more to talk about after that, so we decided to take out our mutual frustrations on some of the local creatures in Thanalan. Fortunately for us, the locals here had a never-ending list of problems - and we ultimately settled on clipping a few imps of their wings, and clubbing a few of the walking dead near the Invisible City. With our destination in mind, we had set out. But, of course, things couldn’t be as simple as that. It never is. When Rae-Hann tried to summon forth his aetheric pegasus, Kurda, it instead transformed into a gnarled beast neither of us had seen before. It lashed out at both of us, and we were forced to put it down. After we decided that it would be best to keep such summonings to a minimum until further notice, we headed for the ruins, and handily disposed of the roaming ashkin that had made it their abode. It wasn’t a particularly difficult task, honestly, but it helped us relief some pent-up stress, and filled our pockets with a bit of gil. So, a win-win.

With our work finished, a heavy rain started to pour down onto us. Without a doubt, we were soaked by the time we got to the Golden Bazaar, but at least the man who put out the job notice also owned the local inn, so we were given a free night on top of the pay. Once in our room, we discussed where we would head off to next. Given our current location, the South Shroud seemed like the best choice, considering that Quarrymill was a prime destination for adventurers looking to catch their stride. Not that either of us were fresh to this sort of work...but dealing with a few bandit gangs might be fun, I think. As for sharing a room with Rae-Hann, well...I can’t say that the idea isn’t nerve-inducing. But I know he is not the type to do anything. I will just wait until morning to change, I guess...I still want to talk with Rae about some things. Particularly, some of these new memories that have begun to resurface in recent nights, with the usual nightmares that come with them...but am I ready to share these memories? Aurelian...if you were in my position, what would you do? You’d probably be handling things far better than me. You were always the stronger of the two of us. I guess that’s why- -No. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. @yokasaris

#AThousandMalms #RaeHann #ValeriaCamena #SiannaultTavard #VoidThings #IHateNecromancers #I'llCutABitchISwear #UnrequitedAffection

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maribatshipper · 4 years ago

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Ducktales reader insert oneshot

Scrooge walks into a ball with his nephews close behind.

"Why are we here, Uncle Scrooge?" Dewey asks, not liking his suit.

"As upstanding citizens of note, it's our responsibility to support Duckburg's cultural institutions. I told ye this last time." Scrooge frowns.

Suddenly, Scrooge stops in shock.

"What is it Uncle Scrooge? Goldie? Glomgold?" Louie asks.

Scrooge doesn't answer, but just stares at a woman who's hijacked the music. She has (H/C), (E/C), is (Height), and 4 people behind her. She starts singing.

youtube

"North South East and West! Let's get this party groovin' North South East and West! Let's get our bodies movin' North South East and West! Let's get ready and go! Whoa!

North South East and West! Let's get this party groovin' North South East and West! Let's get our bodies movin' North South East and West! Let's get ready and go! Whoa!

I could climb a steep volcano! (Ooh ah, Ooh ah.) Or journey to the sun! (Whoo) Discover hidden treasures! (Ooh). Our adventure has begun! (Yipee)

Come with us and take a trip! Come with us adventuring! Follow your dreams! Follow your heart! Follow the journey, make a start!

North South East and West! Let's get this party groovin' North South East and West! Let's get our bodies movin' North South East and West! Let's get ready and go! Whoa!

I could be a jackaroo! "G'day". Kick my heels up high (yee-hah!) Take off in a big balloon (woah)! And float across the sky (wow)

Come with us and take a trip! Come with us adventuring! Follow your dreams! Follow your heart! Follow the journey, make a start!

North South East and West! Let's get this party groovin' North South East and West! Let's get our bodies movin' North South East and West! Let's get ready and go! Whoa!

North South East and West! Let's get this party groovin' North South East and West! Let's get our bodies movin' North South East and West! Let's get ready and go! Whoa!"

The boys all stare as the girl and her friends bow.

"Thank you, Duckburg! You're too kind!" the (E/C) duck smiled.

Scrooge glares as the girl finishes talking with her friends and walks over.

"(Y/N)(L/N)." Scrooge growls.

"Scrooge McDuck. Lovely to see you again. How long has it been?" She smiles.

"How long have you two known each other?" Huey asks.

(Y/N) looks over to the boys.

"Oh, when did you get hitched, Scrooge?" (Y/N) smirks.

Louie, who has been drinking Pep, suddenly spits out the Pep in shock.

"We're not his-"

"What?!"

"How could you think-"

(Y/N) laughs at the Triplets responses, interrupting them.

"I was teasing. I doubt it's possible for him to have kids nowadays." (Y/N) giggles.

Scrooge grumbles. (Y/N) sighs, "I thought you would've been happier to see me after I saved you in Pandemonium. But you always think I'm like Goldie."

Suddenly, Goldie shows up.

"Speak of the literal devil." Louie growls.

(Y/N) gives him a questioning glance.

"Don't ask."

"Hello, Scroogie. (Y/N)." Goldie smirks.

(Y/N) smirks, "Did you hear that, kids? That's the sound of the rare, 2 faced, fox-tailed, Gold Digger."

That got a laugh out of Scrooge. Goldie tapped (Y/N).

"What do you want, Goldie? Oh, and give me back my earrings, rings, bracelets, necklace, comb, watch, and anything else you have stolen." (Y/N) glares.

Dewey whispers, "She's just as good as Uncle Scrooge."

"How do you know I stole those pieces of jewelry? I didn't even notice you bring that bee comb." Goldie frowns.

(Y/N) smirks, "How did you know it was the bee comb and not one of my other combs?"

Goldie glares.

"An old slip of the tongue. I love it when the universe hates my enemies." (Y/N) smirks as she takes her stuff back. "So, Scrooge, my friend, care to dance?"

Scrooge smiles, "With pleasure, lass."

(Y/N) grabs Scrooge's hand and leads him to the dance floor for a waltz.

"So, tell us more about (Y/N), Goldie." Dewey smirks.

Goldie ignores him and walks off.

*Your POV:*

You smile at Scrooge. Last time you danced with him was so long ago you can't remember.

"This is nice. Remember last time we did this?" you ask.

"Last time we did this, ye were a wee bit shorter." Scrooge points out.

You roll your eyes. Same old Scrooge.

"You always thought I was a backstabber like Goldie. Didn't you notice all the packages sent to your office after our adventures? They had valuable things in them. One of them was a gold nugget that weighed at least two of me. That was me. I always left you all my gold I found."

"Why, lass? Ye could've been rich like me." Scrooge asks, confusion all over his face.

You laugh, "Rich? That hasn't been my need. I only buy what I need, only get as much money as I need. I adventure without spending a penny. The only money I spend is on clothes and food. Especially my shoes. Those rocks have already torn through 27 different shoes in 1 week. Give me an adventure with you and your family. I'm sure Donald would be surprised to see me."

Scrooge sighs, "Alright. Tomorrow, come to the mansion. I'll get Beakley to let you in."

***

You were on an adventure with the whole Duck family. You smiled at the pilot, Launchpad. He was funny. Suddenly, the sand collapsed underneath all of you. You hold your breath as someone grabs your wrist, pulling you out of the sand.

"Anyone else getting Deja Vu?" Huey asks.

You spit the sand out of your mouth and rub it out of your eyes to see gold trinkets everywhere. You pick some up to examine it. The kids gasp in awe.

"Don't get your hopes up kids. This isn't real stuff." you sigh.

Scrooge asks, "How do-"

Louie frowns, "She's right. It's Fools gold."

Dewey smirks, "That means there's more deeper down."

"Careful honey!" Della exclaims.

You sit down, watching as they examine every piece of treasure to see if it is all fools gold. You pick some up and shove them in your pocket. Just because it's fools gold doesn't mean that it won't be worth some money to some people. Maybe you could give some to that Doofus Drake kid. He won't care.

"Why aren't ye helping the kids?" Scrooge asks.

"Because I'm not a giant booby trapped gold temple hunter. I have only done small treasure hunts since my last adventure with you." You smile.

Suddenly, you hear a creaking. You push Scrooge away just as a giant hammer comes out, throwing you into a wall.

"Gah!" You scream in pain as you fall to the floor.

Donald is the first face you see. You sit up.

"Well, now I have a story to tell. Almost squashed by a giant hammer. That's not bad way to lose a lung." You joke, then inhale in pain.

"What's the big idea!?" Donald's grinding voice orders.

You sigh, "I pushed your uncle out of the way, Donald."

"I think that's enough for ye, today." Scrooge frowns.

You laugh, "Come on. I'm fine. Just don't let me dance for a few hours."

You have always been a stubborn girl. Suddenly, another creaking is heard, only this time, it's near Webby.

"Look out!" you yell as a giant axe flies towards the young duck.

You gasp as she dodges the axe. You then black out.

***

You wake up to see you're back on the plane.

"Oh, (N/N), how do you get yourself into situations like this?" You ask yourself.

You groan in pain and lift your shirt a little to see a giant bruise on your chest.

"Good thing I learned first aid last month." You wince.

"How are you feeling miss (L/N)?" You hear Launchpad ask.

"Just fine. I guess Ourobourous was an ambitious first adventure." You smile with mischief in your eyes.

"Aye, Lass. But that won't stop ye, will it?" Scrooge asks.

You turn and tease in an awful Scottish accent, "Ye cannae stop me."

The kids laugh.

"Will we be getting an Aunt, Uncle Scrooge?" Dewey asks.

You blush, thinking, not about Scrooge, because he is more like a dad to you, but more about Launchpad and Donald.

"You'd have to wait and see, kids. But not to Scrooge, here."

I had written this quite a while ago. You can find it on Home Base by the Scholastic Website or Wattpad. Please leave a comment, or something to let me know you are reading and enjoying my stories!

#Home base shoutout #ducktales #reader insert #Hi Five song here

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justcallmehermione · 5 years ago

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Fic update !

Story: Small Bump Rating: M for some delicious smut

Pairings: Linzin, Tokka, and Kataang

FF.net

AO3

Chapter 10: Spotlight

“Can you please remind me why we’re making this pit stop at the Southern Air Temple, again?” Lin inquired a little icily. Winter was in full effect this far south and Lin sat on Oogi’s back wrapped in several layers of furs Katara had lent them for their journey south.

“Dad asked me to drop these scrolls off so they can be filed in the big library they’re adding to the grounds of the temple,” Tenzin replied without turning around.

“Well, do we have to stay long? It’s freezing up here and I’d much rather get to our final destination sooner rather than later,” Lin barked at Tenzin.

Tenzin, getting a little angry at his wife’s tone turned to her and asked, “Is there something wrong? You’re not exactly treating me well.”

“Oh forgive me, Master Airhead. I’m just a little pregnant with your child, and I’m sitting on the back of this giant ball of fur, freezing to death. Oh and to top it all off, we have to make a pit stop where I’m sure we’ll be asked incessant questions about the child I’m carrying!” she spat at him.

Mustering all the patience years of meditation had given him, Tenzin drew a deep breath before he began, “I’m sorry we are stopping at the temple. We don’t have to stay the weekend. I’m sure Oogi can continue to Kya’s place immediately after the scrolls are dropped off.”

Oogi groaned in response. He didn’t sound too happy about continuing in the darkening, cold winter sky.

Lin acquiesced, “No, I don’t want to tire Oogi out and make him freeze up here. We can stay the two days. I’m sorry for my attitude. Pregnancy is really taking its toll on me.”

Tenzin climbed back to where Lin was and placed a chaste kiss on her lips.

“It’s alright love. I’m sure this cold isn’t helping any. We should be landing soon. In the meantime, is there any room for me under those furs?”

Lin pondered for a moment, then replied, “Hmm, I don’t know. That would require me opening the furs up to let you in. Not to mention, you’re probably freezing and going to make it cold in here.”

Tenzin didn’t wait for permission. He wrenched the furs open and slid in next to his wife. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and placed his ice cold hands on her protruding stomach. Lin shivered at his touch. He quickly wrapped them back up in the furs and they snuggled to keep each other warm while Oogi completed the well-traveled route to the Southern Air Temple.

…

Tenzin gently nudged Lin under the furs. He whispered, “Wake up, beautiful. We’ve arrived.” Lin stirred and blinked open. The sun was setting and the air was growing colder by the second.

“Thank the Spirits!” she exclaimed, “Let’s get inside in front of a nice warm fire. Maybe I’ll be able to feel my toes after a few minutes in front of the flames.” She bent a pillar for herself to use to descend from Oogi’s back.

Tenzin chuckled, “Of course, dear. As you wish!” He followed her, a bundle of scrolls and their overnight sack in hand. By the time he landed softly on the ground, an entourage of Air Acolytes had made their way to the courtyard where they landed. The group reached Tenzin & Lin and bowed in unison to them.

One of them stepped forward, head still bowed, and said, “Master Tenzin, Ms. Lin, my name is Devadas and it is my honor to serve you both during your stay here.”

Tenzin glanced at Lin and noticed the scowl, he quickly intervened, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Devadas. Thank you for your warm welcome.”

Devadas rose, but kept his eyes downcast, “Please, allow us to take your things to your rooms. Some of us can also escort Oogi to the bison stables so he has some shelter for the evening--”

“We’re fine carrying our own things,” Lin snapped, “Can you please just show us to our rooms?”

Devadas glanced towards Lin, then looked to Tenzin to see if he was also angry, he began, “Forgive me, please. I did not mean to offend anyone.”

“You didn’t offend us. We’re more than capable of carrying our own bags since we won’t be here that long,” Tenzin intervened before Lin could reply.

“Please, it is our honor to help, and we were hoping you’d consider staying here longer..”

“No, we’ll be here for the weekend and be on our way once Oogi is rested,” Lin interrupted, “Please show us to our room and Oogi to the stables.” She felt Tenzin’s hand on the small of her back and added a quick, “please,” to try and make up for her tone.

“As you wish,” Devadas acquiesced, “follow me.” Devadas motioned for the couple to go one way while the other acolytes led Oogi to the stables.

As the trio were walking towards the dormitories, Tenzin began, “Thank you again for your hospitality, Devadas. Lin and I really appreciate it.”

“It is an honor to have you both here. We are here to help in any way we can,” Devadas assured them.

“We’ll let you know if we need anything while we’re here for the weekend,” Tenzin assured him.

The trio arrived at the dormitory building. Devadas motioned to the left and explained, “Men’s rooms are that way, and women’s are the other. We share a washroom in the center of the building. I personally made sure there was a vacant bed for each of you in your respective parts of the rooms.”

“We’re not allowed to stay together,” Lin asked while rolling her eyes.

“It’s just for the weekend,” Tenzin whispered to her while rubbing her back.

“Whatever,” she retorted and stomped off away from the men.

Tenzin turned to their host and smiled sheepishly, “Sorry about that, the journey here was not the most pleasant we’ve ever had. I’m sure she’ll be fine once she warms up and gets a good night’s sleep.”

“Of course, Master Tenzin. Now if you’ll follow me, I saved a spot next to my bunk specially for you,” Devadas eagerly explained as he led Tenzin towards the men’s wing.

Oh spirits, Tenzin thought to himself, this is going to be one long weekend.

…

Tenzin awoke, but did not feel well rested. Devadas had kept the two of them up late talking about all the plans they had for the new library. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish he and his wife had continued to the South Pole last night to avoid all that.

“Good morning, Master Tenzin!” Devadas greeted cheerfully.

Tenzin drew in a deep breath, remembering that this was just for the weekend and he would survive. “Good morning, Devadas,” he responded, mustering as much cheer as possible.

“Will you be meditating with us this morning,” the air acolyte inquired.

Tenzin took a deep breath and replied, “Of course. I think I’m just going to check on Lin quickly, first.”

“I don’t think that is necessary. I left one of my best acolytes with specific instructions to ensure Ms. Beifong has everything she could ever need or want,” Devadas assured him.

“I’m very grateful for that, but I still would like to check on my wife,” Tenzin declared.

“Please, Master Tenzin, we would absolutely love it if you lead us in this morning’s mediation. I promise, Lin is better than fine. She is fantastic,” Devadas said while ushering Tenzin out of the dormitory and towards the East-facing plaza where they normally conducted morning meditations.

But before the pair could completely exit the dormitory, Tenzin got his wish as he saw Lin being ushered out by a group of female air acolytes. She appeared disgruntled, as if a good night’s sleep had escaped her and had only worsened her mood from the previous night.

“Tenzin!” she shouted, “Thank the Spirits you’re here too!” She quickened her pace to catch up with him, escaping from her wranglers.

“Lin!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around her as she flung herself at him. She tried burying her face in his chest, but he grabbed her chin and lifted her face so he could try to read her. Her brow was furrowed and her jaw was tense. She was clearly disgruntled by whatever had happened during the night or when she awoke this morning. Tenzin planted a kiss on her forehead to try to offer some comfort.

He cleared his throat and addressed the crowd of air acolytes that were waiting for him, “Please, proceed to the plaza. I will be there shortly for meditation.” The air acolytes bowed in unison and followed his command, quietly.

“What happened,” he inquired once they were the only ones left in the dormitory.

Lin huffed, “I was sound asleep because I was planning on resting for a while longer today after traveling last night, when I was prodded awake by those insufferable acolytes.”

Tenzin couldn’t help a smile from appearing on his lips, “Is that so?”

Lin rolled her eyes, “Yes! They were trying to wake me gently, but it felt like they were just trying to be the first to rub my belly and feel the baby kick, and all to get me to come meditate with them!”

“Ah, well, I can see why your mood hasn’t improved much since last night then.”

“No, it hasn’t. In fact, it may be a little worse even. They all started blabbering about how I needed to get up to meditate because it’s good for my health and in turn is good for the baby. One of them also mentioned something about --”

Her story was interrupted by Tenzin’s mouth covering hers. He knew she was upset, but that she wouldn’t be forever, especially if he could try to make her feel other strong, passionate emotions. Lin tilted her head up more, granting him full access to her mouth. Tenzin took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside her mouth. He pulled her as close to him as possible and let one of his hands slide down slightly, cupping the curve of her backside. After a gentle squeeze, he pulled back and let her go while they caught their breath.

“Well, hopefully that calmed you a bit. Now, go back to bed and get some more rest. I’ll come get you when meditation is over,” Tenzin explained.

Lin blinked at him for a moment, collecting her thoughts, then chided, “I know what you did just now, and that was plain cruel, especially since we won’t be alone till we leave the temple.”

Tenzin smiled at her and smoothly replied, “I have no idea what you’re getting at. I’m late for meditation. I’ll see you soon.” He left her standing in the hallway as he sauntered out of the building to see to his duties.

…

“And here we plan on holding scrolls devoted to the Avatar and his past lives. We already have quite a collection of tales about Master Aang, and we’re hoping to get more about him and his past lives soon,” Devadas rambled on and on as he was showing Tenzin the refurbished library the acolytes were working on restoring. He hadn’t noticed Tenzin had stopped listening to most of what he was saying a while ago, and continued on with the tour. Tenzin was preoccupied with thoughts of Lin. He hadn’t been able to see her since breakfast, where her mood had improved slightly. He prayed to the spirits that she was doing well, for the sake of all those around her, as well as their unborn child. Devadas had finished the tour and was guiding the two men back to the cafeteria for lunch when another acolyte came running towards the two.

“Excuse me, Master Tenzin” the acolyte started, huffing and puffing trying to catch his breath, “but we need your assistance urgently. It’s your wife…”

“Lin!” Tenzin interrupted, “What’s the matter? Take me to her!”

“Right away,” the acolyte responded and took off the way he came from.

As the trio got further away from the library, they started to hear and feel the faint rumble of the ground shifting around them. Tenzin knew they had to be getting close to Lin. His idea confirmed, as they now heard Lin yelling as the ground continued to shift and split.

“Here we are,” the acolyte proclaimed, stopping at the edge of a clearing on the side of the mountain, not daring to get closer to Lin.

Tenzin immediately dropped into a defensive stance and started to assess the situation, ready to protect his wife if the need arose. He scanned the scene. He saw Lin facing off against two air acolytes, her frame clearly tense and rigid. The acolytes, both female, were trembling as they continued to plea with Lin, “Please, Ms. Beifong! This isn’t healthy.”

Lin stomped and kicked up a huge boulder from the ground. She shifted her weight and punched towards the boulder, sending it flying off the side of the mountain so it could crash into an adjacent one.

“I’m perfectly capable of practicing my forms, you ninnies!” Lin yelled back at them. She continued to move through different bending stances, kicking up more rocks and rock clusters, sending them flying around. The acolytes continued to tremble and plea with her to stop.

Tenzin stood up straight, realizing there was no danger, and inquired, “What is going on here?”

Lin swung around to face him with a rock in mid-air, ready to send it at the newcomers, and shouted, “Oh, don’t you start on me too, Master Arrowhead!” Tenzin gave her a quizzical look, unsure of why he was being admonished.

Tenzin turned towards the acolyte that had run to him and Devadas and interrogated, “Why did you come get us? Lin isn’t in any danger…” Tenzin glanced over at his wife again. She was still standing in the same pose with the rock ready to be flung if she were challenged by anyone. He noticed she was a little sweaty, despite the cool autumn air, and there were a few streaks of dirt here and there on her body and clothes. Tenzin also noticed the small swell of her belly and started grinning. His wife was perfectly fine, and so was his unborn child. Nothing was wrong, his heart rate can start decreasing now.

“Allow me to try to shed some light on the situation, Master Tenzin,” Devadas stated. He waved his hand, beckoning the two female acolytes to come towards him. The two women shuffled towards the men, not taking their eyes off of Lin for fear she might strike at any time. Once they were close enough, Devadas inquired, “Ladies, what is going on here?” Lin had decided to fling the rock away and approach the group, her face in a scowl.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on here,” she spat, “These two turtle-ducks were trying to interrupt my exercise!”

Devadas nodded, “Yes of course, as they should.” Tenzin whipped his head at the acolyte and had a look of pure shock on his face.

Lin stared daggers at him and spat, “Excuse me?”

Devadas explained, “They should stop you. I put Masami and Lawan in charge of caring for you and the baby while you were here. I had hoped they would be able to convince you to stay for the remainder of your pregnancy so they could be your doulas when your time came to bring the next airbender into the world.”

“Precisely,” Masami or Lawan, Tenzin wasn’t sure who was who, piped up, “We both have experience with bringing new life into the world. We have worked with expectant mothers for many years now and we know that this kind of exertion is not good for the baby.”

“They sent me to get you, Master Tenzin, to try to talk some sense into your wife,” the male acolyte chimed in.

“Sense? Why would he need to talk sense into me?” Lin continued to argue, “There is nothing wrong with me practicing a bit of earthbending!”

“But in your condition, --” one of the doulas started to argue back, but was quickly cut off by Lin again.

“My condition? What? Am I dying now? I didn’t realize growing another human inside of me suddenly turned me into some fragile piece of pottery that needs to be wrapped up and stored in a room for 9 months until the baby finally comes.”

“You aren’t pottery,” Devadas tried explaining, “But the next airbender you are carrying should be treated as such. His or her life is very important and sacred.”

“Oh, stop that!” Lin was seething now and the ground beneath them started trembling. “No one even knows if the baby will be a bender of anything!” Her fists clenched, causing cracks to form in the ground around them.

“Lin,” Tenzin spoke softly, reaching out to grab his wife’s hand in an attempt to calm her, “Please, take a deep breath.” He took a step closer to her, reaching an arm around her waist. Lin spun to face him. He stared into her pale green eyes and wanted nothing more than to make her pain disappear.

Tenzin placed a kiss on her forehead, then turned to address the acolytes, “Thank you for your concern for Lin and the baby.”

“What?” Lin exclaimed “You can’t possibly be taking their side in this!”

“I-I wasn’t,” Tenzin stammered.

“You just thanked them for what they did!”

“You didn’t let me finish what I wanted to say.”

“Oh, please! You won’t put these airheads in their places. You never want to step on anyone else’s toes!”

“Lin, please.”

“No. I’m done. I’m tired of being treated like this and I’m tired of everyone assuming my future child’s identity!”

“I know, but--” “No, Tenzin. Don’t argue with me. You know how I feel about that.”

“I do, and I’m on your side, always.”

“Now, I hardly think that wise,” Devadas interrupted the couple, “You have no training in these matters, Master Tenzin. Masami and Lawan know what they’re talking about. We should all trust and follow their advice.”

“If those two are going to continue to give unsolicited advice on your orders, then I’m outta here,” Lin declared and started heading towards the dormitories.

“I’ll be at the bison stables in 20 minutes. I’ll take Oogi with or without you, husband,” she called back.

“Look, I’m sorry for my wife’s behavior and I do really appreciate your concern for Lin,” Tenzin reassured the acolytes, “However, no one knows Lin better than herself, so I’m sure she is more than capable of exercising while pregnant. She loves the baby more than anybody does and I know she’d do everything to protect him or her. Please trust my wife’s judgement.” And with that, Tenzin bowed his head to the four air acolytes then took off after his wife, knowing full well she would leave him stranded without his staff or Oogi.

Notes: Another update! I definitely got some Katara calming Aang out of the Avatar State at the end of this chapter. I figured pregnancy hormones in Lin would draw some pretty powerful emotions/bending out of her, so hopefully this all makes sense. I’m hoping to update again soon as this pandemic continues. Comments and Kudos are always welcome!

#linzin #fan fiction #fanfic #atla #lok #my writing #small bump #just call me hermione

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athenagc94 · 5 years ago

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Gust and Piper - Beginnings Part 2

A few of you said you were interested in another part to this post so here it is. Thanks to those who took the time to read it!

I’m also posting the story here on AO3!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The scratching of Gust’s pencil immediately stopped when he heard Albert slip back into the office. He glanced over at the clock on the wall. It hadn’t even been twenty minutes since he left and the walk to Pipes & Bricks Shop was at least half of that time. Normally, Albert’s consultations lasted for at least an hour, if not more.

“Back so soon?” He leaned back in his seat and stretched his arms over his head. His back cracked and popped in response. With a groan, he spun in his chair and peered over the banister. Albert shuffled through some files on his desk. “Was she not home?”

“No, she was home,” Albert said as he reread a commission proposal, “but there wasn’t much to discuss. She loved the design you came up with.”

Gust’s stomach did a somersault. “Wait, she did?”

“I know, I was surprised too.” Albert hid a teasing grin behind his hand. Gust ignored him and crept closer to the edge of the loft. Albert continued after a moment, “she was adamant that she didn’t want any changes.” A giddy feeling bubbled in the pit of his stomach now. Piper liked it. His real work would see the light of day in Portia. The thought made his head spin. “I don’t know what you two talked about today, but she seemed pretty excited about the addition. More than necessary if you ask me.”

“Well, I didn’t ask you.”

Albert arched his eyebrow at him. “Then what did you two talk about?”

“We discussed my entry for the Vincent Design competition. Nothing more.”

“Right, right.” Albert set a few finished orders aside, only to replace them with a new stack. “And after that conversation, you just so happened to create a similar design for her, just because, right?” He shot Gust a knowing look.

Gust didn’t respond. On the one hand, he didn’t want Albert thinking he liked the builder, because he knew that was exactly what was being implied right now. He didn’t like Piper. That much was clear. He didn’t even know her. They’d exchanged more words this morning than they had since she arrived nine months ago.

“Oh, don’t sulk. It’s alright to admit she stroked your ego a bit,” there was a teasing lilt in his tone, “I bet it felt nice to have someone like your ideas for once.”

“People like my work,” Gust insisted with a sniff, “if they didn’t A&G wouldn’t get any business.”

Albert chuckled. “You know what I mean,” he said, “It’s draining, having your work constantly picked apart by clients. I get it. But you can rest easy, my friend.” He winked up at Gust. “This one is all you. Pipes wanted a Gust original.” The tips of Gust’s ears burned. A Gust original. Piper had said the same thing when she left. It brought a smile to his face.

He didn’t know Piper. He didn’t necessarily want to know Piper either. However, in their brief interactions and through his sparing observations, he knew she was relatively laid back. She took things in stride. Every commission thrown her way was taken with a smile. She’d been thrown in more than a few dangerous situations since arriving in Portia. People expressed their concerns, but she brushed them off with a laugh. Even Higgins’ incessant gloating didn’t seem to faze her. She was climbing the ranks as a builder, but she didn’t seem to care about being the best. In short, she excelled at not giving a damn about anything. He could use this to his advantage and have a little fun.

“Hey Albert?” The dark haired man hummed in response, eyes still on the form in his hands. “Do you think the builder would mind if we used a mix of marble, igneous brick, and ironwood for her extension?”

↢↢↢↣↣↣

“You’re in a good mood.” Ginger gave Gust one of her demure smiles as he stirred honey into his afternoon tea. “You only use sweeteners when you aren’t feeling bitter.” Gust ignored the petty jab at his temperament and drizzled a little more honey into his cup. It sank to the bottom of the amber liquid like glue. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion.”

Ginger rolled her eyes. “Of course,” she turned her attention back to the book in her hands, “It’s just I haven’t seen you use sweetener since Django commissioned you for a painting for the Round Table last year. You were happy back then too.” She shrugged. “But that’s none of my business.”

Gust hummed. “You’re right. It isn’t any of your business.”

Ginger didn’t respond, but he felt the smug energy that rolled off her in waves. She always basked in the knowledge of knowing she was right. She simply waited. They both knew he’d cave eventually and tell her why he was in a good mood. He couldn’t keep things from her for very long. So naturally, he found himself continuing. “But if you must know.” Ginger smirked. “If you must know, things are going well with the builder’s new addition to her workshop.” He took a tentative sip of his tea and grimaced. Maybe he’d added a little too much honey.

“I’m glad Piper’s letting you run wild with your creativity,” her expression softened, “I haven’t seen you have this much fun in awhile. It’s nice to see.”

“It is fun.”

It had been a few weeks since Piper had come to A&G seeking the expansion of her workshop. He tested the waters early on in the project. She’d willingly accepted the suggestion of using the strange combination of materials. She even provided some of the materials herself. So he got bolder. He pushed the boundaries of his design, but that didn’t faze her. She never pushed back. Like commissions, Piper took each new suggestion with a smile and a nod.

These days, Piper stopped by A&G more and more often. The construction for the South Bridge was underway and Piper was a main player in the preparations. She’d have a new batch of materials for them each morning. Normally, she’d spend her time chatting idly with Albert. He’d flirt with her shamelessly. She’d deflect it with a social grace he didn’t know she had. It was almost amusing to watch him flounder. She never used to venture upstairs, but these days she’d wander over to take a look at his latest designs.

At first, Gust tried to brush her off. He hated being interrupted. It ruined his creative flow. Despite his clipped responses, Piper kept coming back. She asked questions and Gust found himself responding more often. She listened to his tangents and seemed genuinely interested. When he would start a new project, he’d find himself wondering what Piper would think about it. A giddy excitement fluttered in his chest when he thought about showing her his latest work. It was more thought than he’d ever given her before, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“Gust?”

Ginger was looking at him now, concern laced on her knitted brow. How long had she been talking? He wasn’t quite sure when he had stopped listening. “Did you hear what I asked?”

“Honestly? No, I got swept off in thought again,” he admitted sheepishly, “can you repeat your question?”

Ginger shook her head. “You and your daydreaming.” She chuckled. “Would you be willing to bring my birthday present for Albert with you this evening? Dr. Xu said I shouldn’t be venturing into crowds right now. The excitement is too much for me, or something.” She gestured to the book in her hands. “He went through the trouble to get me this book, so I want to make sure he gets a gift in kind.”

The book was bound in pink leather. Gust recognized the title. Journey to the East. She mentioned wanting a copy some time ago. He had planned on looking for it when he traveled to Atara in a few months. He pursed his lips. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Albert giving his sister gifts without telling him, but he’d dwell on that later.

“I can bring it with me. I only plan on staying for a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” she gave him a grateful smile, “but feel free to stay as long as you’d like tonight. It’s your friend’s birthday, go have some fun. I’ll be fine with Uncle Russo.”

He waved her off. “Albert doesn’t need me to have fun. He has the ladies of Portia to keep him company,” he took another sip of his tea, “He won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Ginger huffed. “I think you should give Albert a little more credit. He’s your friend after all. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to have you celebrate with him.”

“I also planned on working on some of the pieces for our exhibition in Atara. There’s still a lot to do.”

Ginger rolled her eyes. “Well, when you put it that way, I think celebrating your friend is more important,” her expression hardened, “The exhibition is months away and I’ve seen you roll out masterpieces in less time. That’s no excuse to skip his party.” She pursed her lips at him and for a moment he swore he was looking in a mirror. The sheer contempt in her expression was uncanny. “You’re going to the Round Table tonight and I don’t want you back until after midnight.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be telling me to be back before midnight?”

“That’s not really a punishment for you, now is it?” She arched a knowing eyebrow at him. “You’d be thrilled if I gave you a curfew. You’d use it as an excuse to never see people again and I can’t let that happen. You have the freedom to go out and see people. I want you using it.” Gust winced. There was a brittle edge to his voice. She really wanted to go out this evening. He could see it in her eyes.

He sighed. “I’ll stay out for at least an hour or two.”

She considered this. “Fine, I’ll agree to those terms. Just try and have some fun.” With a sniff, she returned to her book and the argument was closed.

Part 3

#my time at portia #mtap #mtap gust #mtap albert #mtap ginger

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ajbrooks-writes · 5 years ago

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Character Intro: Elthian

Role: Protagonist WIP: Blood Ties Trilogy (high fantasy, adventure, romance) Appears in: For The Crown (book one), For The King, For The Country WIP Intro for For The Crown - link

Basics:

Age: 29 Nickname/title: El (to close friends), Sir, Your Highness, My Lord, My Prince, Crown Prince Elthian Species: shapeshifter (african lion) Home: Royal (Versillian) Castle, above Cossalier City, West Mantha Profession: Crown Prince, High Chancellor Identifies as: male, straight (he/him) Family: King Parthian, Prince Orrian (half-brother), Queen Lilanna (step-mother) Relationships before trilogy: No known long term relationships. Relationships during For The Crown: Ryvaeryn (love interest and confidant), Joal (best friend), Orrian (brother), Parthian (father), Kalen (friend) Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Excerpt from an early scene:

The darkness was cool. Soft, lazy clouds floated past a half moon over the trees, swallowing the rest of the cares of my human life; those I had left behind, and those yet to face me.

I waited by the maze entrance, though Joal had gone south for a moment, and sensed my friend before he returned through the trees.

‘Ready?’ his voice appeared in my mind as clearly as if he had stood beside me. A pair of bright eyes appeared in the underbrush, the rest of him melding with the blackness. Communicating through thought made our adventures much easier, and our conversations private.

‘To give you an advantage?’ I responded. ‘Of course.’ The cloud passed, and a large, dark wolf stopped in front of me, turning to the east. Our domain.

‘Confidence will always be your downfall, El.’ After the day I’d had, Joal’s words hit like a punch in the stomach, and I took a moment to recompose.

‘I suppose we will see who is right.’ I extended my claws into the earth and arched my back, turning to our path as well. ‘Whenever you’re—’

Joal launched himself into the underbrush, cutting through tight spaces he knew I wouldn’t fit.

‘Ready,’ he called back.

‘Good luck.’ I shook my head, waited a few moments, then crouched low and sprung after him, following his trail once he found the one I could run along.

‘You’ll need it.’ He sped up after his words, but I extended my lion’s stride and quickly fell in step with him.

Entrance:

Elthian enters the story at Cossalier’s marina, interrupted by the commotion of a young woman being pulled by city guards toward a navy ship to be deported, which he intervenes to prevent. Having grown up with the expectations of the crown, and the same compassionate temperament as his late mother, he wants more than anything to do right by his people. This on-the-ground approach directly conflicts with his father’s authoritarian rule. Elthian refuses to compromise his ideals, and that stubbornness won’t always be forgiven.

Journey:

After a decade of pushing boundaries with his father, overruling the guards again is the last straw for Elthian, and the King gives him an ultimatum. The certainty of his inheriting the crown is removed, he must choose between compromising his values for the throne, or compromise his authority for his values. With no younger siblings or cousins, Elthian has no knowledge where the crown will go, or what that will mean for the country he has pledged to serve.

Relationships:

At first comfortable in his environment, the first installment sees Elthian’s relationships with family and friends change. His connection with Ryvaeryn starts as curiosity, developing into friendship, then so much more. He remains close to his best friend, Joal, and older brother, Orrian. His admiration of his father, however, immediately struggles as Parthian reduces his authority and threatens his future.

As his relationship with Ryn strengthens, the rest of Elthian’s support network begins to crumble. Secrets are discovered that open old wounds, straining his relationships with everyone he trusted most. His pursuit of further understanding risks the antagonists’ being revealed, but as the belief he is safe in his own home is challenged, he doesn’t stand alone.

Writing Elthian:

Elthian is true to his upbringing. He has control over his body language, and verbal and facial expression, but his internal monologue has some delightfully sarcastic undertones. El doesn’t get angry but does get dramatic with those he trusts. He keeps to himself what would be better confided, convinces himself the ‘correct’ thing is actually what he wants to do, and loses himself to long reflections. Writing him is like writing an approaching storm. I will pile on pressure and torment till he breaks, and we will see the man he is under that decorum.

Links to: Character intro - Ryvaeryn Character Intro - Joal

(Taglist below the cut)

Blood Ties tag list: @whisperswritings @stand-inthe-rain @fantasy-shadows @halrose @romanticatheart-posts @hopefulmoonobject @angelolytle @albarnesauthor @fantasy-penman @ofinscriptions @jynecca @jc-shay @venomouspen @k-nazario @raenawrites @the-starlight-chills @crazycoffeemermaid @ardawyn @bookish-actor @waterfallofinkandpages @the-writister @thewriteblrarchives @kryskakikomi @theredscreech @ardawyn @jcckwrites @kryskakikomi @hiding-between-words @thewordsinthesky-andstars @mc-hill @the-orangeauthor

(If you would like to be added to or removed from this list, please let me know!)

#BT Elthian #character intro #blood ties #for the crown #blood ties trilogy #character introduction #for the crown elthian #my wip #character development #wip stuff #my writing #original character

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aleksya · 4 years ago

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COME WITH ME, LET'S MAKE SOME TRAVEL TRIP IN NETHERLANDS,DE HOGE VELUWE NATIONAL PARK!!!

De Hoge Veluwe National Park is my dream place ever! I love the vibes and also the environment. Here are some interesting things you must know in my place.

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Hoge Veluwe National Park (Nationaal Park De Hoge Veluwe), one of the most popular attractions in the Netherlands, lies just eight kilometers north of Arnhem. Occupying an area of 13,750 acres, this huge park is the largest continuous nature reserve in the country and is notable for its diversity of scenery, which includes everything from dense forests to high sand dunes. It's also unique in being a privately owned national park, one of only two such parks in the Netherlands (and the only one that is fully enclosed).

Hoge Veluwe National Park is famous for its tremendous diversity of landscape, a mix of thick forest, heath, and even sand dunes. Perhaps the best preserved - and certainly the most interesting geologically of the country's national parks - Hoge Veluwe consists of a large area of sandy soil formed during the Ice Age. This fascinating scenery is interrupted in the south and east by moraines standing between 80 and 100 meters high.

-Hoge Veluwe Highlights-

·Hoge Veluwe's Birds and Beasts

From well-placed observation points in the center and northwest sections of Hoge Veluwe, visitors can watch animals including red deer, roe deer, and wild pigs, as well as moufflon, a species of wild sheep originating from Sardinia and Corsica. In winter, a variety of birds congregate in the park, including marigold finches, titmice, chaffinches, woodpeckers, jays, magpies, and thrushes. If you're here for the wildlife, the best times to do some animal spotting are early morning and late evening, so plan your visit accordingly. Be sure to pick up a park map upon arrival for details regarding locations of wildlife observation posts and refuge areas, some of which are accessible by car. These are available from the entrances, visitor center, tea house, or park shop.

·Hiking and Biking

As with so much of the Netherlands, Hoge Veluwe National Park is predominantly flat, making touring by bike one of the best ways to enjoy its magnificent scenery. And as the Netherlands is one of the most bike-friendly nations on the planet, it seems only natural that more than 1,700 of the country's famous White Bikes have been made available for use throughout the park (they're free with admission); simply turn up, ride as far as you like, and drop it off at one of the distribution points or park entrances when you're done. Specially designed children's bikes are also available, as are versions with front or rear child seats.

·Home Sweet Home: St. Hubertus

Built as the main residence for Hoge Veluwe's wealthy owners, Anton and Helene Kröller-Müller, Jachthuis Sint Hubertus was designed by one of the Netherland's leading architects, Hendrik Berlage, and was completed in 1923. Named after St. Hubertus, an accomplished huntsman, this magnificent mansion contains numerous references and symbols relating to the legend of the great saint, most noticeably its antler shape (the masonry also incorporates a cross).

·The Kröller-Müller Museum and Sculpture Garden

Built to house the private collection of the Hoge Veluwe's art collector owners, the Kröller-Müller Museum (Rijksmuseum Kröller-Müller) is home to numerous fine examples of 19th- and 20th-century European art. Built in 1938, the building was designed to bring art and nature together, a concept continued in the impressive glass extension added in 1977.

Highlights of the collection include some 4,000 drawings, 275 sculptures, and several hundred paintings. Work from the late 19th and early 20th centuries predominates, including 280 paintings and drawings by Vincent Van Gogh from his time in The Hague and Paris. Other treasures include Art Nouveau works by Odilon Redon, James Ensor, and Jan Toorop; Impressionism and Expressionism paintings by Edouard Manet, Claude Monet, Paul Cézanne, and Auguste Renoir; and Cubism, including examples from Pablo Picasso and Fernand Léger.

·Going Underground: The Museonder

Europe's first underground museum, the Museonder opened near the Kröller-Müller Museum in 1993. Visitors are taken on a unique journey through a series of subterranean pathways providing displays and information related to the area's natural history and geology, as well as once-native wildlife, including the skeletons of mammoths, rhinos, and giant stags. Some exhibits focus on organisms that live underground, including burrowing animals and insects, and the root systems of trees.

-AND HERE ARE SOME TIPS AND TOURS: HOW TO MAKE THE MOST OF YOUR VISIT TO HOGE VELUWE NATIONAL PARK-

Visiting from Amsterdam: If you're based in Amsterdam while enjoying a stay in the Netherlands, consider joining an organized tour to get the most out of your Hoge Veluwe experience. A great option is the small group, half-day tour to the Kröller-Müller Museum and Hoge Veluwe National Park. Highlights of this guided tour include transportation to and from the park and museum (a journey of approximately 75 minutes, Wi-Fi included), with plenty of time to explore the galleries containing works by such greats as Picasso, Monet, and Van Gogh. Afterwards, you're free to explore the park by bike (there are plenty of well-marked trails to explore).

Dining: A number of on-site dining opportunities are available in the park, including De Koperen Kop, offering a variety of self-service meals (lunch and dinner), along with a pleasant terrace and a playground for the kids. Lunches and snacks are available from Monsieur Jacques Café-Restaurant in the Kröller-Müller Museum, while light refreshments are offered at Tea House Jachthuis Sint Hubertus.

Camping: On-site camping is available for tents or caravans, with wash and shower facilities provided for a small additional fee (optional electric hookups are also available).

Address

Koningsweg 17, Schaarsbergen

Official site: www.hogeveluwe.nl/en/14

And yeah! if you also planning to visit in Netherlands,Hoge Veluwe National Park don't be hesitate, it's worth it! what are you wanting for?

xoxo

special thanks for the reference:

planetware.com

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silverfootstepswrites · 5 years ago

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Amaryllis | Chapter 2

< Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 >

+++

The marketplace wasn't a crowded jumble of noises and smells. Uniform stalls lined the big streets. Merchants waited with their hands folded, smiles in place. They only spoke when spoken to.

The sterility felt very wrong.

A market, as she remembered it, was always overflowing. With smells: Meat roasting on spits, bread baking stuck to the sides of hot ovens. Spices from faraway lands, mingling with spritzes of perfumes from oddly-shaped bottles.

The only thing stronger than the smells were the sounds. Merchants yelled over the bleating of goats, squabbling with their neighbors if they offered a better price. Their children shrieked with laughter and chased them around the legs of adults. Running under the tables and sending displays askew when their feet caught on the cloth.

"I'm afraid this will be much smaller than what you're used to," Sasuke had warned her on the ride down to the city. They had carved the infrastructure into the sides of the mountain. The roads spiraled up the sides of the slope, with the city trickling down the incline. These roads were paved, and there was rumored to be running water in even the smallest houses.

It struck her as odd that the castle was so far-removed from everything else. She was so used to the marketplace waiting just outside the walls of the palace. Voices calling "Lady Sakura" so clearly when she was young. And then "Your Grace" when her mother and father were no longer there.

She remembered the hushed whimpers that rose in the streets when news had arrived of her parents' death. White flowers spilling into the waters around the palace. The endless chorus of thousands of bells swaying in the wind. The entire city was shrouded in her mother's favorite color: a deep purple fit for a queen. She didn't remember much of those days apart from being held in her aunt's arms and the way her cousin's clammy hand tightened around hers as the empty pyres burned bright.

"What sort of place is Plumeria?" asked Sasuke, pulling her from her memories.

Sakura was already smiling as she thought. The busy city of Plumeria was where she had grown up. It sat at the bottom of the Southern Tea Isle. Its port rarely sat empty as vessels filled with tea and silk set out to the far corners of the world. In their place, merchants came in with grain and vegetables from the mainland. Others came from greater distances, ships groaning with spices and textiles in a dizzying array of colors.

The Haruno family had found a home on the island after a long journey across the ocean from the east. She had grown up hearing the story a thousand times.

The island nation had struggled to fend off the attacks of the vicious mainlanders. Its people had called the land 'Aiga' then. And their peaceful fishermen were no match for the pale invaders with their heavy metal suits and their great beasts that trampled them with hard feet. When the Haruno's arrived, they came with spices in a dizzying array of colors and smells. They brought tea leaves, which grew beautifully in the tropical sun. They also had something that they called 'gunpowder' that made it very easy to make the men in metal suits stay far away.

The Haruno's and the islanders formed a partnership. The islanders' way of life would be preserved, and their foreigners found a home after many months of travel.

The story went on, and the details of how that small noble family had become a duchy of the Forest Kingdom was long and complicated. In the end, all that mattered was that the Southern Tea Isle supplied the entire kingdom with tea leaves and high quality silk. As the secrets to silk production were jealously guarded, no one had ever come close to producing fabric of such quality. The Haruno family's coffers grew as noble ladies clamored for gowns made of the precious material.

Around this time of year, the hills would be filled with the bright green leaves. Workers would be bent over in the rows, plucking the harvest and placing it in their baskets. In the afternoons, the air would fill with the aroma of roasting tea. All the while, the rush of the ocean waves would beat against the coasts of the island. The tides pulling boats home as fishermen rinsed and folded their nets in preparation for the following day's work.

There were no words to describe her home. She had tried and failed countless times. To call it "beautiful" was an insult. It was busy but never rushed. Peaceful but never silent.

"It's perfect," Sakura finally managed to say.

The capital city of Plumeria was built on the water. Each building was held up on wooden supports. And the ones that could afford stone used that instead. The white-washed homes sported red or blue roof tiles. And a series of wooden walkways connected one building to another. During high tide, boats pulled up right beside homes, bobbing on the salty waves as people yelled out their greetings. Just recalling the details made her feel like she could taste salt in the air again.

When she glimpsed Sasuke's face, she suddenly pitied him for not carrying the memories of such a place inside of him. And so she painted a picture for him.

The clear waters of the sea reflected everything from the palace to the sky and the clouds above. On calm days, it looked like the palace sat on a great mirror. None of the great works of art could do the place justice, she claimed. And Sasuke simply nodded.

Sakura had grown up wandering the stone halls that were cool even on the hottest days. Admiring the ethereal glow of the white stone in the torchlight. The islanders didn't really believe in doors because they blocked the path of good spirits who came bearing fortune. Instead, there were large archways from one room to the next. And when more privacy was needed, white curtains were hung up. Whenever a strong sea breeze swept through, the curtains billowed and waved like the skirts of so many dancers. Giggling, Sakura had spun through the fluffy fabric, marveling at the sun-warmed dance partners they could become.

The smell of the salty sea clung to her hair and clothes no matter where she went. Barefoot and breathless, she tiptoed the halls and squealed with laughter when her father caught her sneaking around after bedtime and threw her over his shoulder. She remembered drinking sweet coconut water and biting into mangos with the juice dribbling down her chin. All the memories piled together, filling her with warmth even on the coldest nights on the mainland.

Sasuke blew out a long breath. "That… sounds amazing. I've always wanted to see for myself. My tutors always called in one of the great wonders of the south," he commented. And then he cast the approaching market with an odd look. "I'm almost ashamed to be bringing you here now. This must seem like a joke to you."

Sakura laughed. She barely watched as Kaze ambled down the steep path. "It's true. Everything seems small in comparison to a port city," she answered. "I miss it so." Her laughter trailed off, turning into a sigh. She turned in the direction of that distant home, imaging those rushing waves and the smiles of the people who welcomed her back.

+++

Sakura's first memories were of an island filled with people who she loved and who loved her in return. Mother was away often, because being Queen was a difficult job. But Mother sent her love in messages often. And when Mother was home, Sakura never left her side. Clinging to the end of her dresses, snuggling up in her lap in the throne room.

One foggy morning, during one of the long periods of Mother's absences, Sakura had woken to the urgent voices of men echoing through the halls. The room was dark. She opened her mouth to call for her father. But then she heard the voices again.

Blanket draped around her, she snuck out to see what was going on. The end of the blanket dragged along the tile as she padded out of her room, out into the misty morning. She navigated the familiar walkways with ease, straining to listen over the roar of the ocean waves. Eventually, she found her father sitting in the throne room, white hair messy from sleep. But his dark eyes were intense as he listened to the men. His right hand gripped the armrest, knuckles popping out. Left hand under his chin to keep his weary head up.

Sakura stood in the doorway, watching. Waiting until her father noticed her. It never took him long. He held his hand out to her.

"Your Majesty, the reports from the border have been growing more urgent. We desperately need you back in the capit-" one of the men insisted. The talk cut off when Sakura ran through their legs, bare feet sleeping against the stone floor. She sat in the crook of her father's powerful arm so he could lift her into his lap. It was the world's safest and most comfortable place.

"Continue," Father prompted.

Sakura knew it wasn't polite to interrupt adults. She patted the back of her father's hand once. And then she watched his stubbly chin, waiting. When he finally bent his head down to listen, she whispered in his ear.

"Is something bad happening?"

"In a way, sweetheart," he answered with a brief smile.

She gripped the front of his shirt. "Is Mother alright?" She couldn't help but worry. It had been months since she had last seen her mother. And there were bad people in the world who wanted to hurt her. That was why there were the good guards at the palace to keep them safe. But what if the good guards hadn't been strong enough?

Sakura's gaze rose when she felt her father's hand, clumsy and big, stroke her head.

"Your Mother is fine. You can stay and listen if you're very quiet," he suggested.

And as Sakura stared up into his tanned face, she loved the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. The way his silvery stubble shown in the lantern-light.

"I'll be very, very quiet," she promised.

"Good girl," he said.

Sakura remembered dozing off. Because when she opened her eyes again, they were standing at the dock. The sun was already rising over the waters. She blinked, slowly focusing on the men running back and forth lugging trunks and barrels onto the ship.

"Daddy?" Sakura mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

She felt her father shift her in his arms, the blanket still draped around her. The thick green and teal tassels brushed against her hands. And though he usually reminded her to call her "Father", he didn't correct her this time.

"Yes, Sakura," he replied.

"Are you leaving home? To go to the border?" Sakura queried. His eyebrows rose.

"You were listening," he mused. And then he let out a heavy sigh. "Yes, dear. We're going to the capital. It'll be our home for now," he answered. Sakura's forehead puckered.

"But this is the capital. Plumeria's the capital, isn't it?" Sakura said, confused. She was even more confused by the way he chuckled.

"It is. But I meant the capital of the entire kingdom. We get to live in an even bigger castle in Leaves. And that's where your mother is. Isn't it exciting?"

"I do miss Mother," Sakura admitted. But then her shoulders drooped.

"What is it, Sakura?" her father asked.

And then Sakura peeked up at him again. Because her father was always so kind and never raised his voice. She hoped it wouldn't hurt his feelings to say what she was thinking. The way he smiled at her made her think it would be alright.

"Whiteriver Keep is ugly," she admitted. Because the place where she lived was so pretty, day or night. The castle in the capital was not a beautiful place. It was a castle with fortifications and siege weapons. Fortresses were big, hulking things meant to fight wars. Even from a young age, Sakura understood that there was no beauty in something like that.

"And that means I have to leave Auntie behind. And then Sasori can't come either. So who will I play with? And who will help Shizu fold bedsheets? Or pick the flowers to put in Mother's room?" Sakura fretted.

Her father let out another sigh. He patted her back. "Sasori will come to visit often. And I'm sure you'll make many friends. There are so many people who can't wait to meet you," he comforted her. Sakura's frown eased a little as she took in his words. She met his gaze to slowly nod. He smiled.

"Come. We'll have breakfast while they finish preparations," he boomed in a cheerful voice as he turned to take them back to the palace.

+++

"Watch out, General," she heard Sasuke say. His voice pulled her back to the present.

Sakura looked up. She found Sasuke's hand hovering near her elbow, like he couldn't decide whether to touch her or not. And then she spotted a man rumbling down the road in a cart piled high with cured meats. They moved to walk closer to the buildings. The man tipped his hat to them in thanks as they passed.

"Wasn't there a special word for the market where you come from?" Sasuke questioned. They paused to peek in at a stall selling fresh berries harvested in the mountains just that morning. Sasuke handed the woman a coin. She passed them a tiny basket filled with fruit in return.

"Bazaar," Sakura replied. The sound rolling off the tip of her tongue. Sasuke muttered the word beside her, stumbling over the foreign sounds as she took a bite of a strawberry. It was sweet, the juice rolling down her chin. Sasuke laughed at her before he offered her his handkerchief.

They perused through the other wares. There were trinkets from foreign lands and books labeled in unfamiliar languages. There were bracelets made from smooth jade beads, which she hadn't expected to see so far west. There were also bolts of fabric that claimed to be made of silk. But her nose wrinkled as she passed her hand over the rough weave.

What surprised her most was how no one called Sasuke by his name. Some of their gazes lit up with recognition, but they simply addressed him as "My Lord". She gathered rather quickly that Sasuke kept his identity as a prince hidden, likely for security purposes. Although she was unsure of how subtle he was with two guards trailing after them.

At noon, Sasuke took her to a tavern for a meal.

"My mother would faint if she could see us here now," Sasuke whispered as they settled at the wooden table. It was a clean little establishment, with a bard crooning in the corner, and just one drunkard slumbering at a table in the back. The bartender eyed them with suspicion as they walked inside, but that was the standard behavior for any bartender.

And then he smiled a secret, conspirator's smile. "I hope it's to your liking."

"You will never see me turn down a tavern stew," Sakura assured him. And Sasuke's expression brightened a little.

Sakura raised an eyebrow as the two guards sat at a separate table.

"Too good to sit with us?" She commented.

The larger of the guards jumped out of his seat. "No, ma'am. It's just not proper, ma'am. How can commoners like us sit with people such as yourself?"

The smaller guard nodded along with his partner.

Sakura took those words in. Thinking. She crossed her arms across her chest. And then the corners of her mouth turned up. "Proper. Yes, while I appreciate your concern, you've missed one detail."

Both of them looked at her now.

"Propriety dictates that an unmarried woman should not be dining alone with an unmarried man. Rumors spread about them. I would feel much more at ease if you were to sit with us. For my reputation's sake," Sakura said.

The two guards glanced at each other. Silently mouthing words and gesturing with jerks of their head. This went on for a long time before they got to their feet and moved to join her. Sasuke watched the exchange, but his face betrayed nothing.

"Forgive me, sirs. I'm having trouble remembering your names," Sakura greeted them as they sat.

The larger guard bolted to his feet again. "I beg forgiveness, ma'am. We never gave them. I'm Juugo."

The smaller guard bowed his head, both hands planted on the tabletop. "I'm Suigetsu."

Sakura dipped her head toward them in return.

"Thank you for accompanying us today, Suigetsu, Juugo. It puts me at ease to know that you two are here," she stated.

Juggo's face began to turn a shade of red similar to his hair. Suigetsu coughed, his gaze flickering from Sakura to his companion.

"Well, if rumors are right, I don't think you have much need for us. Word gets around, you know, General," Suigetsu said with a nervous laugh. Sasuke's eyebrows rose. And then they pinched together.

"You are speaking to an esteemed guest of our kingdom. I will not have you sour her stay with frivolous rumors," Sasuke's voice whipped out, suddenly sharp.

She waved a hand, drawing Sasuke's attention once more. "Oh no, please. I rarely get the chance to hear of my reputation. Usually it's whispered when I'm not around. I'm terribly curious," Sakura insisted.

"Um…" Suigetsu hesitated, wary eyes darting to Sasuke once more. But when Sakura nodded, Suigetsu grimaced and spoke again.

"Well… they say not to make an enemy of you, General." And then he spotted Sasuke's expression and added, "I think it's a compliment, really!"

"They say you slew a hundred men on your own at the Battle of the Deadlands," Juugo spoke up. Quietly.

Sakura wasn't smiling anymore. "What else?" she prompted.

Juugo met her eyes as he uttered: "They call you The Heartless…. But you don't seem like you are."

And just as suddenly, Sakura's smile returned.

"Rumors are not called facts for a reason. It wasn't a hundred men, and I wasn't on my own," she corrected him. As if he hadn't said the second part at all.

She regaled them with the true story of that particular battle. And when Sasuke asked for more, she told them of other adventures and campaigns. Of swords clashing and sparks flying. Of the roars of the soldiers as she shouted for their support. She noticed that the bard had gone quiet, and the drunk in the corner was awake, watching them with bleary eyes.

It was easier to remember it like that anyway. All glory and triumph. Not the way those memories really lived inside her head. Echoing with the screeches of the crows as they feasted.

After lunch, they returned to the city to finish their tour.

The capital city of the Mountain Kingdom was called Ispolin. It was built into the southern face of the mountain, carved into the stone. Goliaf Castle sat on top of it, with a clear view of all the miles of forest that coated the faces of the mountain range.

Ispolin was a bit larger than Plumeria. It owed its prosperity to the mines carved deep into the mountains. Workers ripped iron ore from the insides of the tunnels, carting them out to be processed and sold. It was no surprise that the Mountain Kingdom was also famous for its weapons and strong armor. Mines further to the north were also known for harvesting aquamarines that were coveted by all its neighbors.

"This is lovely craftsmanship," Sakura remarked as she picked up a sword at the blacksmith's stall. The blacksmith himself was hard at work inside his workshop. She could see him standing by the heat of the fire, muscles gleaming as brought his tools down on what looked like the beginnings of a sword. The older man watching the weapons on display also glanced back at the blacksmith. He gave a vague grunt of approval before he turned back to Sakura.

"May I?" Sakura requested. The old man gestured to the wares with a nod.

She picked up a sword. Her gloved hand tightened around the simple hilt. The iron was lighter than she expected. She raised it to admire it in the light. The blade glinted when she turned it at just the right angle.

"Excellent balance. And such beautiful attention to detail," she murmured.

"You've got a fine weapon yourself, M'Lady," the old man noted.

Her leather scabbard hung from her belt, as it did almost every day. She carried a falchion, sharpened to a deadly edge on one side. It was light enough to be used one-handed, and that gave her the advantage of speed. A smaller version of this weapon was what her father had used to first teach her to defend herself. And this particular blade had been a gift from her Aunt a few years ago.

"Can't really put a lot of weight behind it, though," he then observed, squinting at the shape of it.

An odd smile appeared on Sakura's face. "Weight isn't necessary. A few well-placed cuts can bring anyone down. Don't you agree?" she quipped in return.

And then she set the weapon back in place on the display. The old man turned quite pale as he bowed

They went on walking. Sasuke eyed Sakura. "I thought you were a bit young to be a General," he confessed.

"Thought?" she repeated without looking at him.

"Thought," was all Sasuke said in response.

Sakura glanced over her shoulder at him. "I knew there was a reason I liked you, Prince," she declared before she hurried on ahead to the next street.

As they perused the wares in various stalls, Sakura began to notice a pattern. While many stalls sold jewels that had been polished and cut, few merchants sold any real jewelry. At best, the gem hung from a simple chain. She made a note to herself. This was something Sasori would love to know.

She stole a glance at Sasuke, who met her gaze with a nod. "Ready to go?" he asked.

They rode back up to the palace late in the afternoon. The guards parted ways with them along the way. Bowing far too many times as they did so.

"I apologize about the state of the fish. I can speak to my father about finding something to suit your taste," Sasuke offered.

"It's alright. No sense in crying over something I can't have yet," Sakura waved him off with a laugh.

And then Sasuke's forehead wrinkled. "Before I forget, I never got a chance to ask," he added. Sakura nodded.

"I was thinking about what you said. About reputations. What do they say about me?" inquired Sasuke.

Sakura squinted up at the sky. She could see clouds gathering on the horizon. But they were far enough that perhaps the storm would miss them. Kaze's ears perked up, as if he were listening for the storm too.

"Well, you're known as somewhat of a heartbreaker," Sakura admitted.

Sasuke's mouth puckered. Like he was trying to decide whether to be offended or not. In the end, he gave a shrug, saying, "You have two options. Either you're cruel and the woman leave crying, or you're kind and they don't leave at all."

"How terrible it must be," she retorted.

"It is. I've had them follow me to every social event of the season. Some threaten to kill themselves if I won't marry them. One woman even crawled into my bed at night. It's unbearable."

"Well, find the least insane one and just marry her. People like us don't love, Prince. We breed," snorted Sakura.

"Breed?" he repeated, face contorting.

Sakura ran her fingers through Kaze's mane. The horse tossed his head, ears twitching. And then he glanced up at her. She smiled and rubbed her palm along his neck in apology for bothering him.

"A ruler must be intelligent and charismatic. Level-headed and just. Beautiful as well. People don't follow ugliness," she listed. She met Sasuke's gaze with a pointed look.

"We are better than the common folk. Our carefully-curated pedigree guarantees that," Sakura added. A smile flickered across her face before she whistled. Her horse broke into a run, dashing along the path. Leaving Sasuke to watch the swish of her perfect ponytail as she galloped ahead of him. As he opened his mouth to call out to her, she looked over her shoulder at him, suddenly smiling again. As if that conversation had only happened in his head.

Supper, that night, was an exercise in self-control. As Sakura struggled not to roll her eyes.

"A party?" Sasuke repeated.

Naruto's fork, heavy with roast meat, froze on the way to his mouth. He tried to meet Sakura's gaze, but she wasn't looking at him.

Sitting at the head of the table was King Fugaku, holding up his glass so a servant could fill it with more wine. Queen Mikoto sat to his left, chewing silently like any good lady should. To his right, in the seat of honor, was Sakura. Who ran her tongue along the edges of her teeth, listening. Her eyes barely flickered upward toward the king at his sudden announcement.

"Just a small one. To welcome our guests," Fugaku said before taking a sip of his drink. Mikoto nodded.

"A wonderful idea," she agreed. And then she turned to Sakura.

"General, please don't worry about your attire for the evening. I will have my personal tailor sent to your quarters tomorrow. He can work his magic in time for the festivities," Mikoto assured her. Sakura, who had lifted her goblet to her mouth, pulled it away to return the smile.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Sakura replied.

And as the focus of the conversation turned to Naruto, Sakura's eyes finally met Sasuke's across the table. She rolled them. Hard. Sasuke choked on his wine a little as he tried not to laugh.

"A wonderful idea," Sakura repeated after the meal was over. They had retreated to one of the lounges that no one ever used. There were a lot of those. It was a large castle.

"No. It's a wonderful idea," Sasuke corrected her, mimicking the pitch of his mother's voice. Picking up his cup of tea, he turned to face the window. He stood there, back perfectly straight as he sipped. Sakura sat with her right leg crossed over the left. She picked up her own white cup painted with red flowers. Her eyes glittered as she eyed him over the rim of her drink.

"Is it the dancing you hate? Or the nobles?" she asked.

"The artifice in general. The dancing I could also do without," Sasuke confessed. And then he pivoted on his heel to look at her. "Although I'm more worried about you."

Sakura's eyebrows rose as she set her teacup down on the table.

"Do you think that I speak with such candor everywhere I go?" Sakura challenged him. She examined a fraying thread at the bottom of her shirt. There was a dagger strapped to her thigh everywhere she went. She pulled it out of the sheath to carefully sever the stray strand. The blade slipped back into its sheath with a small click. Her gaze then lifted back to Sasuke leaning against the window. Steam rose from his cup, curling and twisting against his chin before dissipating.

"Well… I suppose that explains why you keep mentioning being stabbed," muttered Sasuke.

Eyes popping open, Sakura threw her head back and laughed. Sasuke chuckled too. Hooking a finger into the high collar of his black vest, he loosened his tie just a bit.

"But you do hate nobility, don't you?" he then insisted.

"I don't hate based on social standing," Sakura retorted. But as Sasuke lifted his cup again, she added, "Though I do hate idiots. And I've noticed somewhat of a correlation between the two."

Sasuke lowered his cup.

"This is what I'm talking about. If you said that during the ball, one of my great-uncles would die of a heart attack right then and there."

"…And?" Sakura prompted. "Has he not named an heir yet?"

Sasuke blinked several times. He let out a sigh. "I really hope that you're not lying, and that you're not like this with everyone," was all he said.

It was Sakura's turn to sigh. "You'd think with all the education nobles are given, they'd have some shred of common sense. Some of them do-" Sakura paused to gesture toward Sasuke. He dipped his head. "But many of them don't understand anything outside of drinking and hiring expensive whores. Those are the ones I hate."

Sasuke's eyebrow rose. Just the right one.

"Whores?"

"The more exotic, the more expensive," Sakura confirmed.

Sasuke cleared his throat, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. He went to take another sip of tea and found his cup empty. He set the cup down a little harder than necessary.

"Well, back to the topic at hand. Prepare yourself. My mother's tailor is… talkative. I would ask that you not strike him dead," he said with a touch of humor.

"I would never harm an unarmed foe," Sakura promised. Her hand over her heart as she spoke.

Sasuke's eyes widened. Sasuke was quite unbothered as she drank the rest of her tea.

Soon, it was time to retire for the night. No matter their closeness, people would talk if the two of them were seen spending too much time together. Especially after sunset.

"Your br- cousin has asked for a tour of the palace tomorrow morning. I don't suppose you'd accompany me," Sasuke offered.

"I would prefer not to," she retorted, face turning stony. "The bonds of our friendship are not yet so deep that I would subject myself to such suffering. Sasuke nodded, as if he had been expecting such a response. And then he tilted his head.

"Yet? Would you, eventually?" he wondered.

"It depends on how well you behave yourself," declared Sakura. She got to her feet.

Then I'll see you for lunch tomorrow," she then said before she headed back to her apartment.

Her quarters were empty and quiet. There was no mail waiting for her. Sakura changed out of her clothes and left them in a large basket by the door. Moegi or Haku would take them to be cleaned in the morning as they dropped off breakfast. Her uniform hung in the otherwise bare armoire. She had only worn it for her first day in the castle. But she had still glimpsed one of the maids taking it out to air in the sunlight and brushing it so dust wouldn't settle on the white fabric.

In the morning, Sakura was one of the first to rise, as usual. The stable boys had her horse brushed and saddled up by the time she stepped out to greet them. The guards saluted with their spears as she rode past on Kaze. It had all become part of her routine during the several days that had elapsed since her arrival.

But that day, as she followed the path, Sakura found her thoughts drifting. Their usual quick ride turned into an hour. And then more. Kaze wasn't complaining. He was used to marching. They both were.

Moegi greeted Sakura in the foyer when she returned. "Welcome back, General. Did you enjoy your ride?" Haku also bowed, hands folded in front of her.

"What? Oh… yes, did," Sakura answered. Tucking her helmet under her arm, she strode off down the hall. Moegi and Haku followed on her heels. They had learned her pace by now. They could match her steps without bumping into her or lagging behind.

"What time is it?" asked Saura as they neared the stairs.

"It's almost 9, General. Prince Sasuke sent a message begging your forgiveness," Haku reported.

Sakura climbed the first step. Paused. "For?"

"For inviting Prince Naruto to lunch, General."

Sakura let out a long sigh. "Please send word to Prince Sasuke that he should beg harder," she finally replied.

A smile tilted the corner of Haku's mouth. Moegi quickly covered her lips to hide her titer.

"Ah, and before I forget. Tell the kitchen that I'd like tea to be sent up to my room at night as well. Something herbal if possible," Sakura told them. Haku, who had the better memory of the two, hurried off to deliver the message. Moegi continued on behind Sakura.

"Pardon me if I'm overstepping my bounds, General. But is something troubling you?" Moegi ventured as Sakura reached out to open the door. Fingers lingering on the handle, Sakura turned her head to look at the girl. She was fresh-faced, always so eager to please. Her eyes glittered at the smallest forms of praise.

"I didn't sleep so well last night," Sakura replied.

"Ah! That's why you asked for the herbal tea!" Moegi realized.

Sakura smiled. "Clever girl," she said as she stepped into her quarters.

It was only later, after she had bathed and dressed, that Sakura could even think of the truth. And even then, she took up a pen, dipped it in ink too many times. Trying to gather her thoughts into words that would mean something more than just nonsense.

Dear Sasori,

I've been tossing and turning at night again.

She scribbled it out.

I wish I could tell you that my thoughts

Scribbled.

I'm scared.

Her pen stopped moving. The tip of her nib dug into the paper for too long and left a blot. It spread, blurring out the word. She crumpled the paper up and shoved it into her jacket pocket. She could have one of her maids burn it. Or better yet, she could find an excuse to walk past a fire and burn it herself.

A rush of disgust swelled in her chest as she remember the physician's words when she had first returned from the battlefront.

+++

Yashamaru's hands were always a little too cold. She held very still as they pressed to her throat. He counted her heartbeats. And then he checked her eyes, scrutinizing her pupils. Every so often, he jotted something down in his notes.

They could hear laughter in the distance. The waves lapped at the beams supporting the room. Yashamaru let out a soft sigh. He brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"As I suspected, Lady Sakura. You're in excellent physical condition," he declared.

Yashamaru was a distant relative of hers. The light-colored eyes signature of their family made that obvious enough. Sakura found herself staring at them without really seeing. She traced back the lineage to place him in her family tree. He was the brother-in-law of her second cousin's father. So that made him… her… first cousin… once removed?

His mouth was still moving. She wished that she didn't hear the words coming out of it.

"But I've seen this before. It's stress from the war. You just need to rest."

"I have been resting," Sakura grumbled.

It had been nearly a year since she had returned from her successful campaign on the western border of the kingdom. She had been hailed as a hero. Her battered regiment had marched into the city in a shower of flower petals and applause. There was even a parade, complete with music. She remembered sitting on Kaze's back, ears ringing and her head barely nodding whenever people spoke to her. There were many soldiers who just stood there and wept. What cruelty to celebrate the hell that they had just barely managed to crawl out of.

In the name of reconstruction, she had stayed in Whiteriver Keep. She oversaw the distribution of soldiers and supplies to the scorched areas of the kingdom on the mend after the war. There were still small pockets of surviving enemies to clean up. Some groups she sent just to help people rebuild their towns. If possible, she asked that soldiers be sent as close to home as possible. And for their commanding officers to turn a blind eye every now and then if some slipped out in the night to be with their families.

Three years of battles and travel had taken a toll on her. Sakura's first days back in the castle had been difficult. Servants there had never bent over backwards to please her. And as she jolted out of nightmares, often drawing a weapon, the few who had once served her began to steer clear of her quarters entirely. Every shadow was an enemy. Every sharp noise was the scream of an innocent. When she closed her eyes, a battlefield of ashen corpses stared at her. Sometimes the bodies demanded to know why they had died and she had lived. She never had an answer for them.

It was her Aunt Kushina, the Queen Regent, who had recommended a change of scenery.

"You've always liked Plumeria. And the the sea air might be good for you," she had suggested. Part of her had suspected that it was a trap. But another part of her didn't care. She ran home- to her real home. Where she was welcomed with open arms. Where smiles were real and where when people said, "I love you" and "I care about you", it really meant something.

"You haven't rested. I mean here," Yashamaru persisted, touching two fingers to his temple. As Sakura stared at him, he reached out to touch her temple too.

"Your wounds are healing on your body. But not in there. You need to relax a little," he went on. Sakura's eyes narrowed. She pushed his hand away.

"Alright. Then why don't you try watching your commanding officer's decapitation? And then witness his body torn apart by beasts? Or, why don't you go see enemy soldiers set fire to entire towns? And then see how easily you can relax at night," she spat. Yashamaru recoiled a little, like she had burned him.

"Actually, you know what might be fun? Why don't you find orphans who survived by eating the bodies of their siblings and parents? That should help you rest a little, don't you think?" As she spoke, Sakura could hear her voice catch. She clenched her hands into fists.

"You try having all those thoughts in your head, Doctor. And then see how well you relax," she hissed.

And when she met Yashamaru's gaze, she was almost sorry for lashing out at him.

Slowly, he closed his eyes. Let out a deep breath through his nostrils. When he opened his eyes again, he offered her a wan smile.

"All the same, you need to sleep. The dead need not rest. You do," he insisted.

Sakura's mouth tightened before she confessed: "I'd rather not sleep. My dreams are unkind."

"Moon tea, then. To force sleep despite the dreams," Yashamaru responded.

A shaky sigh left Sakura's mouth. She touched the back of her hand to her forehead. Trying to gather her scattered thoughts in her even more scattered brain.

"This is common. Soldiers returning from war always struggle to adjust," Yashamaru told her.

"Some of them seem fine," Sakura protested.

Yashamaru shook his head. "Some of them are liars, then. Or at least better actors than you are," he corrected her. And then he got out of his seat.

"And I'd hate to offend you more than I already have, but it must be said," Yashamaru then added. Sakura glanced at him, already wary.

"You've left the battlefield. Stop dragging it around with you," he said.

Sakura's expression hardened. She got out of her seat.

"Will you drink the tea?" asked Yashamaru, following her with his eyes.

"Prescribe it," she ordered. She got to her feet and walked off, hands clenching and then unclenching with every fall of her boots against the path.

+++

It had been almost four years since then. It had taken a long time for her to even begin to be able to pretend that things were getting better. The staff in her palace had worked tirelessly to nurse her back to health. None of them complained about the broken dishes or the sleepless nights. They greeted her with smiles each morning, answering her listlessness and anger with compassion. Sakura knew for a fact that they had been the ones to save her.

Still, the nightmares returned every once in a while. It was worse when she was away from home. If the doctor was correct, which he usually was, stress was to blame.

Her nights in Ispolin were spent tossing and turning more and more. Flashes of blades and the booms of cannon fire filled her ears at night. When she jolted awake, sweat dripping down her face, she wondered how a phantom sound could seem so real. Why her scars still ached like her wounds were fresh. Clarity only returned to her with the rising sun, after she had managed an hour or two of sleep to soothe her aching brain.

Kneading the heels of her hands against her eyes, Sakura sucked in a deep breath. Inhaling. Exhaling. Calming the noise in her head.

She let her hands fall to the desk.

There was no point in telling Sasori, she finally decided. He would worry and abandon his duties to come see her. And then he would insist on taking her home right away. There was no point.

Her eyes drifted to the books sitting on the edge of the desk. There were so many interesting titles in the library. His Majesty the King had invited her to explore it at her leisure, even if Sasuke was not with her. When she had mentioned this to Sasuke, he had nearly spit his tea in her face. Half-choking, he had let her know what a huge honor it was. Sakura had suspected as much. But then again, what use was a library when most people didn't know how to read?

With the King's permission, she had begun borrowing a few books at a time to read in her room. Haku and Moegi trimmed the candle wicks to make sure that they were steady enough to read by. During the many occasions that she suffered through a sleepless night, having a book was a small comfort. These particular books were about the accomplishments of some of the Mountain Kingdom's famous tacticians. It was dry, but informative. The texts even suggested a few strategies that she had never imagined.

There was still time left before lunch. She stared at the books for a long time before she made a decision. She scooped the up in her arms and carried them to the other wing of the castle. It was a long walk, but she didn't mind it at all. Keeping her muscles busy distracted her mind a little, too.

As she pushed the double doors open, she thought she heard a noise. She hesitated in the doorway. Free hand sliding down her leg toward her dagger as she waited. She counted to ten, holding her breath to hear better. When it was silent, she let the doors swing shut behind her.

Sakura remembered where she had pulled these books from. It was a testament to how infrequently people entered this place that the empty spots in the bookcase were still there. Where the lonely spines had slumped to one side in the absence of their neighbors. Sakura squeezed them back into place. She skimmed her fingertips along the bindings as she walked past.

As she drifted to another section, she began glancing over the titles.

History, philosophy, religion. She couldn't even begin to imagine how much this room was worth. Each book was handwritten by a scribe. Bound with fine leather. It was, frankly, a bit stupid to let her, a stranger, have free rein of this place. Surrounded by what was essentially piles and piles of gold.

As she moved to a new shelf, she heard a heavy thud. Sakura peered around the corner. Itachi stood frozen, a sheepish expression on his face. A book lay on the floor.

Her eyes traced the bottom of his shadow all the way until they reached the bottom of his dressing gown. It was a thick robe the color of the night sky. The hem shimmered with silver thread. It reminded her of the sheen of polished armor.

"That sound I heard earlier… Was that you, Your Highness?" she queried. When her eyes reached his face, she found his cheeks turning pink. It was easy to tell. He was so pale.

"… I wasn't expecting company. This place is usually empty," he said in response. And then he fidgeted with his dressing gown a bit. It was a beautiful garment. Although the fabric was a bit heavier than she would have expected in warmer weather.

This was only her second time seeing him, but Sakura could see that he truly hadn't expected to see anyone else. His hair was loose. She could tell that he had thrown his robe on without even checking a mirror. Half of his hair was tucked into the collar of his clothes, while the rest fell down his back. She rested her palm against her heart, bowing from the waist.

"My apologies, Your Highness. I was unaware that I was intruding on your personal space. I'll take my leave then," Sakura said. But as she turned, she heard him say: "Wait."

She turned back to him.

"Yes, Your Highness?" she responded.

His forehead wrinkled. His gaze seemed to search for his next words. And when his eyes finally met hers, she was startled by how much lighter they were than his brother's.

"If I'm not mistaken, you're a princess yourself. There's no need for you to bow to me," he pointed out.

Sakura opened her mouth. Closed it. Head tilting a little to one side, she scrutinized his expression. When she decided that he wasn't being condescending, she finally spoke.

"I was led to believe that someone such as yourself would have received the finest education in foreign affairs. What a shame," she sighed. And then she gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes as she added: "Please excuse me." She bowed once again before she turned and left the room. The heavy door closing with a bang behind her.

Sakura was out on the terrace for lunch as she had promised. But when Sasuke showed up with Naruto on his heels, he hesitated. The look she gave the both of them over the rim of her teacup seemed like a warning.

"Fetch some milk. It appears that the General's tea is bitter," Sasuke said to the nearest servant. The woman bowed before she hurried off.

"Good afternoon," Sasuke then greeted her.

"Good afternoon," Sakura replied, perfectly polite. If not for her her sharp gaze.

Sasuke and Naruto exchanged looks. When Naruto gestured to the seat across from Sakura, Sasuke gave a quick shake of his head. He settled beside her, instead. Where, at the very least, he wouldn't have to look her in the eyes each time he looked up. Naruto mustered a grin as he settled in that spot instead.

Sakura set her cup down in the saucer. It barely made a sound.

"Hi, Sakura. You must have been up early. Did you go horseback riding?" Naruto greeted her, keeping his voice light.

"Yes, Your Highness," was all she said. Her eyes met his, daring him to ask another question. Naruto's smile sagged, as did his shoulders. He fumbled to find another topic of conversation.

"Have you been adjusting well here? I like their food," he ventured.

"I can eat just about anything, Your Highness."

"Oh…. Well, what's your favorite thing you've eaten here?" Naruto struggled on.

"I don't have favorites, Your Highness. As long as they're not rations."

Naruto seemed to give up after that second failure. Sakura's eyes were cold as she let the conversation fizzle out that way.

Sasuke grimaced before he took a sip of his tea.

"Is your tea bitter as well, Highness? The milk should be here shortly," one of the servants whispered. Sasuke just nodded.

The milk, along with their lunch, arrived not long after. Naruto perked up a little at the steaming slices of ham. He seemed most excited to have something to do instead of fidgeting in that silence.

Sakura watched, arms folded across her chest, as Naruto helped himself to the food.

"General… we haven't known each other for long. But… I'd like to request something," Sasuke finally spoke up.

"Yes, Your Highness," Sakura said, turning her face toward him.

She found him with his lips mashed together. He coughed into his fist once before he requested, "Can you please stop making it so uncomfortable here? I don't think I could eat a single bite with you sitting there like… that." And with the last word, Sasuke gestured at her tense posture.

Sakura looked down at herself. And then at Naruto, who was nibbling at a roll, peeking warily at her with the look of a child who had recently been scolded.

She exhaled through her nostrils. Uncrossed her arms. Took a deep breath. Let it out.

"You're right," was all she said.

She could feel their eyes on her, waiting for the rest of the apology. Because that's what usually happened in a situation like this. There should have been an explanation. Or at the very least, an excuse. But while Itachi's comment had dug a sharp finger into an old wound, it had reminded her of something she had learned as a child. Sitting on her Aunt Kurenai's lap as the smoke from her pipe tickled her nose.

"You are a princess. And you will be a queen. Do not apologize."

Sasuke gave another fake cough. He shook out his napkin with a snap and laid it in his lap.

"Well… Prince Naruto and I visited my family's mausoleum. Unfortunately, he seemed not to have enjoyed the tour," Sasuke tried to change the subject. Naruto wrinkled his nose.

"Why have dead bodies just laying there? They should be buried," Naruto protested.

"Sometimes, people don't have the luxury," Sakura told him in a quiet voice.

But he went on: "And, I mean, people rot. That's disgusting. No one wants to see that. And the smell! They're better off staying out of sight."

By now, Sasuke had caught the look on Sakura's face. The tightness in her shoulders. The way her mouth flattened, lips pressing together. It took a few seconds for Naruto to feel her stare burning into the side of his face.

"Like I said, Your Highness, burying the dead isn't always an option. Religions and traditions differ- even from village to village in the same kingdom. The condition of the land and soil could also be a factor," she enunciated. And then she looked Naruto in the eyes, her voice going flat.

"Sometimes we have to carry the bodies through the mud. Stinking and rotting all over our uniforms. You see, the soil in the south is too wet, too swampy. The bodies don't stay buried for long," Sakura explained. Her voice measured and as calm as if she were discussing the weather.

Her stare pinned Naruto in place. He didn't move. His face had gone very white. Sakura was quiet. And then she nodded several times.

"But perhaps you're right. Keeping the dead out of sight is comfortable for people like you, isn't it? And of course, it's all about what you prefer," Sakura added.

A bead of sweat made its way down the side of Naruto's face. Then another. And it must have been sweat gathering in Naruto's eyes too.

Sakura turned her head toward Sasuke, suddenly smiling again. "I apologize for Prince Naruto's lack of tact. He's had quite a sheltered upbringing. It must have been an honor to visit a sacred place like your family's crypt."

Sasuke's gaze flickered to Naruto. Back to Sakura. Because Naruto's mouth was open, one hand reaching toward Sakura. She should have been able to see him out of the corner of her eye. But she kept her eyes trained on Sasuke instead.

"Well… I had no idea it would be interesting to you. Would like me to take you after lunch?" Sasuke offered. And then his gaze skimmed over to Naruto again. The sudden sharpness there made Naruto lean back a little. Mouth pulling into a smirk, Sasuke added: "I didn't have the time to pay my respects properly. I would love an excuse to return there."

Sakura caught on to his game. She hid her smile behind her teacup.

After the meal, Sakura spent the rest of the day following Sasuke around the palace grounds. They had explored much of it already. But the mausoleum was a new adventure.

The underground crypt was dusty and draped in cobwebs. There was a strange charm to it nonetheless. Monstrous carvings of stone lions filled the walls. Statues of more lions stood guard at the entrance of each room. They went through several rooms, climbing deeper and deeper into the ground. It occurred to Sakura that this would be an excellent place for Sasuke to kill her if he wished. When she pointed this out, he looked horrified.

"Why would I do that?" he hissed, rattling the lantern in her direction.

"Cleanup would be easy. You could just leave the corpse here," Sakura went on.

Shaking his head, Sasuke laughed as he led them on. Sakura's smile dropped as soon as his back was turned. It didn't seem like that was his plan. For now, at least.

The dried bodies of past Uchiha nobles lay on stone slabs, like exhibits in a desiccated museum. The founder of the Uchiha dynasty, a king named Madara the First, lay in the largest chamber. His body was so old that the thick cape of velvet and fur he wore had partially rotted away. Or perhaps it had been eaten by moths.

Sakura lingered by the slab. Sasuke stood beside her, holding the lantern up so that she could peer into the dried face. For an instant, Sakura could imagine the grace that must have embodied that shriveled face.

"On the island, they believe that people are reborn. If their spirits are given the proper rites," Sakura mused. The light moved. She began following Sasuke out of the chamber.

"Do you believe that as well?" Sasuke's voice drifted back to her.

Clasping her hands behind her, Sakura shook her head.

"I sincerely hope not. I hope that this is it. I'm exhausted by the thought of having to do all this again," she sighed. She heard Sasuke's feet scrape to a halt. She stopped too.

Sasuke had started to climb the staircase to the outside. He had turned to look at her. The lantern casting just his throat and bottom of his face in warm, orange light.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a very sad person?" he queried.

A smile bloomed across her face.

"Only the ones that really know me," she responded.

That night, as Sakura prepared for bed, Haku knocked on her door. He handed her a letter. It was still cool. A messenger had probably just brought it through the castle gates. She patted Haku's cheek, grateful for how he was always running for the smallest things she requested. Fighting to bring her hot water while it still steamed. Ironing her clothes twice to make sure that they hung just the way she liked.

Haku's eyes went wide. He touched his cheek, gaze wondering as it followed her around the room. Sakura plucked a cookie off the tray on her desk. She placed it in Haku's mouth and gestured for him to sit. She could hear him moving as she slit the envelope. When the unfolded the thick, creamy paper, she smelled salt.

Dearest,

I've been rather occupied, so please excuse the lack of correspondence. There were pirates lingering around the southern waters near the island. Both the Counts urged diplomacy. So naturally, I ignored such foolish counsel.

I gathered a small fleet. We destroyed their schooner with little challenge. We found them transporting children. Slaves, I hope. Anything else would be worse to imagine. The criminals are currently awaiting judgment in the cells by the docks. I suspect that a few hangings will be in order. You know my opinion on pirates. I'll be glad to see them swing.

I write this sitting in the port of Plumeria. The Regent asked for my presence at Whiteriver Keep. I spewed some nonsense about overseeing our family's lands in your absence. He was very apologetic in his response. He seems to have forgotten that you've named Gaara as your proxy. Or perhaps he does not understand what a proxy is. The poor man must have headaches all day.

My little birds tell me that you have been having a grand time in the Mountain Kingdom. Not that I doubted you, darling. Strengthening ties to our neighbor to the north is key, as you already know. But I will needlessly remind you to be careful.

I've enclosed something for you. A small token to keep you safe when I'm not there.

Thinking of you always,

Sasori

Sakura needed to burn the letter. The jab at the Regent's intelligence wasn't something she wanted anyone else to see. She could imagine Sasori rolling his eyes as he penned the insult. And then she could imagine one of the Regent's followers bellowing about treason until they turned purple in the face.

As she unfolded the paper the rest of the way, something fell on the rug. She stooped to grab it. It was a piece of fabric. She recognized the feeling of the high-quality silk only her island could produce. It was a soft shade of lilac with a snake curled around a staff stitched into the center. When she unwrapped it, she found a pair of earrings. They were made of gold. Sparkling pink tourmaline dangled from the wire. She shook them. She could see the slosh of something liquid inside the crystals.

There were many codes that the Haruno family used to communicate. Aunt Kurenai had made sure to teach them every one that she knew. This included using images that others would just see as decorations and patterns to send messages. In this case, the embroidery indicated that this was an antidote. Aunt Kurenai wore a similar pair each day. The top of the jewelry was designed to detach, revealing an opening at the top of the crystals. She had only ever had to use them once, and not on herself.

Sakura slipped the hooks through her ears. She slept with them on that night. And that night, her dreams weren't of clashing swords and blood misting through the air.

Instead, she was lying in a hammock by the beach. Swaying in the strong ocean wind. One foot dangling. She heard her father's voice, rising and falling in murmured words and laughter. The night was cool, but she was so comfortable. Wrapped up in something soft that smelled familiar. And she was safe.

It was the first time in a while that she had felt that way.

+++

< Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 >

#writing #itasaku #amaryllis #courtly intrigue! au

39 notes · View notes

malereader-inserts · 6 years ago

Text

Little Wolf

Fandom: Game of Thrones Pairing: Tormund Giantsbane x Stark!Reader Summary: The Long Night has ended, and all you want is your wilding love Word Count: 2,054 A/n: A lot of unnecessary lines in this that I could probably not include but yet, here we are. SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 3 OF SEASON 8 (obviously) lol I wrote this before the next episode hits me (I've seen leaks and i’m PISSED) so here’s my love Tormund to calm me down.

You breathe heavily, your knees feeling weak as you were ready to crumble on the snow. You had seen Arya move across your home on a mission, she came to you for defence. Despite, able to defend herself, she could use an extra hand. You had accompanied her in the journey to the Night King, you weren’t going to question why she was going to the Godswood, all you had in your head was that you needed to defend your bother.

You had witnessed the fall of the Night King. You stood by Theon’s body, you finally were allowed to stop fighting when every dead finally dropped. You choked back a sob, looking in the dead eyes of your friend - a brother. You look up to see Bran and Arya hugging, your icy breath distracts you for a moment until you drop your sword and come stumbling to join your younger siblings into a hug.

“You’re bleeding.”

“All of us are, Arya,” You commented dryly as you parted the hug.

“No, (Y/n)-” Arya motions to your broken armour, a steel blade piercing through to your abdomen, she holds you upright.

Her hand on your shoulder and your back as you lean your hand on Bran’s wheelchair. With your other arm, you forcefully pull the armour off you as you looked down at the blade, your blood staining your leather clothes.

“You’ll be fine,” Arya reassures, she couldn’t lose another family member, she couldn’t lose you, “We just need to find a maester.”

“Probably tending to other wounded,” You murmured, “I want to sit.”

“(Y/n) no-”

You wave her off as you sit down against the tree, you could let whatever Gods shout at you for bleeding on sacred lands, Arya pushes Bran’s wheelchair to face you as she sits down next to you. Leaning her head against your shoulder as she hugs you tight if bleeding out won’t kill you then the cold will. Your hand rest lazily against the wound.

Your lips growing blue as you felt exhausted. You spent all of the night killing the dead, you could see the sun rising. At the entrance you could see your direwolf sniffing out for you, you softly smile when you saw your loyal wolf. You were glad that he had survived the war. The Black wolf stares at you with blue eyes, quickly walking over to you.

“Hello Grimm,” You greeted as the beast slump down to your legs, resting his head on your knees.

“We must find a healer soon,” Arya softly hummed, sleep was slowly consuming her, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m losing feeling in my legs, Arya,” You muttered, “And it’s not Grimm leaning on me.”

Jon soon came to view, he quickly runs to his family. Relieved to see three of them survived the battle, embracing Bran and Arya before looking at you. His eyes wandered down to the wound before his eyes widening. Arya explains what had happened out here before Jon softly instructing her to bring Bran inside.

“I hope you weren’t planning to die out here,” Jon murmured as he pulls you up, looking apologetic to your direwolf, “Tormund might kill me.”

“He’s alive?”

“Tough fucker he is, if he could survive the fall of East Watch, I’m not surprised that he survived this,” Jon answers, your lips curve upwards as he pulls your arm over his shoulder, “Most of them have gone inside, luckily just with a few scrapes and cuts.”

“And Tormund?” You asked as you walk with Jon, leaning your weight on him, your wolf whimpering by your side, he hated seeing you injured.

“He’s fine, drinking most likely,” Jon assures you as you both stop once more to look at Theon.

“He died a good man, Jon,” You sounded, “He came back home, that’s what matters, correcting his wrongs.”

“I just wish he could-”

“No more for wishful thinking, Jon,” You interrupted him as you two continue to walk, you groan in pain when Jon tries to haul you up the stairs, “You’re killing me here, Jon.”

“Sorry,” Jon responded, yet there was no sorry tone as he pulls you into a warm room, a maester already present, “My brother, please-”

The maester nods as Jon slowly place you onto the bed. You writhe in pain as the maester got to work, Jon stays by your side for a bit, smiling as your direwolf situate himself by your side.

He watches how the maester release you from the blade, he cringes when he hears you scream, he cringes when he hears your breathing change to become uneven. Jon closes his eyes because he can’t stand seeing you in pain, he knows that Tormund will be furious won’t be by your side whilst your getting tended, but the last thing that the maester needed was a wilding cursing and being distracting.

Jon opens his eyes again, seeing you sweat and become pale. You were keeping your eyes shut as you grip against the bed sheets, keeping your pain to a minimum. But, Jon couldn’t stand hearing your whimpers.

“Tormund is probably drinking himself to death,” You breathed as you squirm under the towel, cleaning the blood and pressing down on the wound.

“He’s worried, he hadn’t seen you half the fight he said when I went to check up on him,” Jon explains, watching you getting stitched up, “He’s looking for his little wolf.”

“Who’s with the fallen?” You asked softly, opening your eyes to stare at him, grinning to yourself when you hear the familiar nickname that Tormund has affectionately donned on you.

“Edd, Lady Mormont, Beric Dondarrion, Jorah and Theon,” Jon listed off.

“The bear house is no more,” You heaved a heavy breath as you were wrapped up with bandages, there were still some speckles of blood that was staining through the off white material, “Look at us,”

“What is there to look at?”

“We’re the very few to survive this mess,” You babbled, “We’ve changed so much, I remember when we were children and running around home - we had nothing to worry about.”

“I’m happy,” Jon considers for a while, “I have Dany, I have my family alive and well, we’ve defeated the Night King.”

The maester pauses and looks at Jon, who explains that someone has to watch over you, someone more than just the direwolf. A mixture of the cold and your fatal wound has caused some complication. Whilst you were patched up, a fever had broken through you.

“Tormund,” You hiss under your breath, “I want him-”

Jon nods, he pushes back your hair from your sweaty forehead, kissing you on the temple before running his hand on Grimm. The wolf whined, lying close to your hand, on your left side. Jon leaves your room as he moves to the hall. There were many people bustling around, feeding themselves and coming for comfort.

Near the fireplace, he sees a familiar group of people, silently in each other’s company as they timidly feast on food. Making his way there, he sees Arya abruptly standing up, gaining the attention of the people in the circle.

“Is he okay?”

“Fever broke out,” Jon responded, as Arya slowly nods, sitting back down next to Gendry and Sandor. The group look at him, as he meets Tormund’s gaze, “He wants you.”

Tormund was confused for a moment before it clicked in his head, his little wolf is calling for him, he stands up loudly, urgency in his eyes, “Where?”

“His room,” Jon says, he knows that you and Tormund had spent a few hours before the war in your room. He should know where you’ve been resting.

Tormund nodded his thanks as he rushes out the room, running up the stairs and barging into your room. The maester wasn’t present in your room anymore, but he had noticed your wolf perked his head up at the intruder, almost ready to attack. Only to calm down when he sees Tormund. Tormund closes the door behind him as he walks across the room.

His little wolf was asleep.

He looms over you, he sees the thin clothing that covers you, he grimaced at the sight of your bandages as he perched himself on the edge of your bed. He watches your chest rise and fall, it was clear you were wheezing, small little moans that were signalling you were in pain. He admires your face, the light scars that were fading over time.

He admires your neck, your chest that was on the show, how he has the pleasure in seeing past that. He loves you with all of his heart, when he had met you at the Wall, you were ten times prettier than Jon Snow. He couldn’t help but admire you from afar and up close.

He was ecstatic to hear you were just as impressed with him as he was with you. He remembers your first kiss with him, and the first night he stayed by your side. You said it was the best you’ve ever had, he’s held you against your words a few times just to shut you up. He remembers how you kiss him goodbye, he departs for the wall and you stay at Winterfell.

He doesn’t forget the night before the war, in which he spent some hours he had left with you. Unknowing to the both of you if you had a tomorrow together. You declare how much you couldn’t bear thinking about loss and death, especially his.

Tormund continues to stare, you were pretty for a man, handsome, almost too good to be true. He hadn’t seen such beauty beyond the wall. They were all ugly, but the south of the north was more presentable. He likes it when you’re wearing leather.

”You’re staring,”

“Can’t help it.”

You open your eyes, he smiles to see your eyes still full of love for him. He brushes your hair, then your cheek.

“My little wolf,” His voice was deep, full of love as you grin at the term of endearment, “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing for the moment,” You whispered and you see Tormund frown, you could tell that he wants to soothe your pain away - it was clearly distressing to him to see you wounded, “I just want you.”

“I’m aware but what-”

“Tormund.”

You silently stare at him, as he stares back at you. He chuckles as he nods, whilst you had no energy to tackle him down to do what you say but you were definitely as stubborn as Starks get. He didn’t want to be on the receiving end.

“Alright,” He slides you over and lies by your side, “Happy?”

“Tremendously,” You bit back at his sarcasm, Tormund chuckles fondly, you lean your head against his shoulder.

He kisses your forehead, silently worrying about the burning heat against his cold harsh lips. You hummed with content as you nuzzle yourself close to him.

“You’re warm,” You commented, “I guess that makes sense since you were kissed by the fire.”

Tormund fondly smiles as you bring your hand to twiddle with his red beard. Softly tugging it, he could see you amused and delirious.

“I think your fever is getting the best of you, little wolf.”

“I’m not little, I’m taller than Jon,” You retaliated, as Tormund snorts in amusement, “I could talk about you for hours, Tormund, everything.”

Tormund chuckles, “I know you could, I watched you done it before and as entertaining that would be. I think it’s best you sleep.”

“Will you stay?”

“Aye, you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Tormund teased, “Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake.”

“I love you, Tormund,” You murmured, allowing sleep to consume you, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days with you.”

Tormund was touched, he’s fucked many men and women before. He wants to admit that he’s been in love before, yet here you were. A stubborn Stark leaning against him, ready to settle down with him. Whilst you could not offer him a family, you could offer him adventure and laughter, good memories.

He was smitten by you, his little wolf.

He chuckles to himself.

He, himself, was ready to spend the rest of his days with you too.

#Tormund giantsbane x male reader #tormund giantsbane imagine #tormund giantsbane #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of throne x male reader #x male reader

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sagemoderocklee · 5 years ago

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Ooh, directors commentary on TAOL?? I know it's an epic so maybe just on the chapter where Lee and Gaara are traveling in Jade Country :3

sorry for letting this sit in my ask box for a couple days. i got kinda sidetracked and then had to go back to work today, which is not a fun time tbh but the evils of capitalism and so on....

anyways, im thrilled you asked for this particular part of TAoL because I absolutely loved that chapter (x) and put a lot of work into it between building up the culture of Gyokukakushin and making sure all the Arabic and Chinese I used was legit (which is partly why it took like 4 months to write). plus the chapter has a lot of great GaaLee moments that make me really happy.

one of my biggest downfalls as a writer is how long it takes me to actually finish anything. as i think most people who follow my writing know, i tend to prefer lengthier stories with lots of heavy politics, and that tends to mean that the build up of romance takes a while... which is again how i like it. i prefer a slow burn--a proper slow burn, not these 2k fics tagged slow burn. i mean, 100k into the story and the most you’ve got is an accidental hand brushing another and some intense eye contact... which admittedly TAoL has given more than just a little bit of physical contact and intense staring, but my point is that when i say slow burn i mean S L O W

anyways, onto the actual director’s commentary

So, Jade Province--as it’s not a country in itself, but a province within Wind Country--is a sprawling section of the south-east portion of Wind. I started building Jade Province and its capitol, Gyokukakushin sometime before I started on Ch10 of TAoL, but it was all a very loose idea. I’d initially conceptualized some things about it for the one shot I wrote, Keepsakes, because I’d been doing some background work on the Kazekage lineage and the culture surrounding the Kazekage family--such as arranged marriages, treaties, etc.

My idea is that Karura and Yashamaru are actually from Gyokukakushin. They would have been the children of a person in the political sphere within the capitol, and the marriage between Karura and Rasa would have been arranged early on and she would have been sent to Suna as a pre-teen or teen so that she would feel that Suna was home. I imagine she and Rasa would have married sometime when she was between 18-20. This was the main reason Rasa was able to take on the roll of Kazekage, based on the family tree I built up for the Kazekage line--he was the only one who was married and could produce heirs.

Not that any of this ever comes up during TAoL. In fact, Gaara doesn’t even realize that in going to Gyokukakushin he’s actually visiting half of his ancestral home. However, there’s a lot of fun hints about his connection to Gyokukakushin if you recall the many mentions of the color the same shade as Gaara’s eyes in that chapter. This was a specific nod to his heritage, and something that the locals definitely would have been fascinated by because there’s lots of significance surrounding that particular color in the region. I also wanted to use the reference to his eyes to highlight Lee’s particular fascination with Gaara’s appearance, and especially the element of Gaara’s eyes and the many ways he looks at Lee.

The biggest challenge within this chapter, of course, was the fact that I was using languages I’m not familiar with and had to find a good place to gather resources. Thanks to @ghoste-catte I discovered that reddit (of all places) has a translation subreddit which I was able to use to help bring that aspect of the story to life in an organic and respectful way. My Japanese is rusty, but I have a much better grasp on it than I do Chinese or Arabic, and so I spent many, many, many, many, many..... many hours searching for resources, watching YT vidoes, at the bookstore--I even bought a small book on Arabic. In the end, the subreddit was way more helpful than anything else because it allowed me the chance to get more concrete explanations from native speakers, so I could understand exactly why something was said the way it was. Most of the phrases used in that chapter aren’t really Gaara saying anything special--things like “be quiet” or “stop”--which I usually alluded to with Lee racking his brain trying to drudge up the vocabulary Gaara has taught him.

However, there’s one line--which I hope people did not turn to google translate for--that makes me especially happy, and that line really would not have been possible without that subreddit. I think the best part about being able to successfully navigate the challenge of using other languages is creating the same confusion Lee feels for those readers who doesn’t know those languages, and for those who do, offering them a nice glimpse at what’s going on that Lee cannot grasp. It’s fun and really changes the experience for each reader.

Language is such a beautiful and intricate aspect of people and culture, and my biggest fear with approaching the use of Arabic and Chinese was not only saying the wrong thing, but being disrespectful. So it was an incredibly good experience, and I was incredibly lucky to receive the help I did!

Building up the tension between Gaara and Lee was something I’d really wanted to execute well, too. It’s not often I write stories where the romance doesn’t start from scratch. With TAoL, Lee needed to already be in love with Gaara, and that was a big stress for me because I’m constantly asking myself: is this earned? I think one of the biggest failings of fanfiction is that people don’t ask that question. You really have to ask if your romance is earned. If your character growth is earned. If a redemption arc is earned. And I constantly worry that I’m moving too quickly with romance in particular, especially for Gaara and Lee. I’m not big on putting them together without a lot of development, and I’m not big on established relationship fics (that aren’t sequels) for them either. I like the work it takes to get them together, I like the journey of getting them together. And I don’t like it to be easy.

But for me, TAoL is one of my best actualized works. I think Alliance really helped me build the skills I needed to execute a story like TAoL on so many levels--from the complicated political landscapes, to the cultures, to the relationships between each character. And so I do feel like Lee being in love with Gaara at this point in their lives makes sense, and does work despite the fact that we didn’t see him fall in love with Gaara during the course of this fic. There are subtle nods to his feelings for Gaara in the early chapters, but I didn’t go too hard at indicating those feelings until really the second Lee chapter, this chapter I’m talking about now. I think there were some hints in the first Lee chapter--the chapter where he broke Gaara out of prison and whisked him away from Suna--but I tried to keep those things to a minimum, partly to not over do it and ease people in to that, and partly because I wanted to keep the suspense alive surrounding the real purpose for Lee being in Suna.

So when they get to Gyokukakushin, it really gave me a much better chance at showcasing his feelings. There were moments prior to Gyokukakushin, but those were from Gaara’s PoV--like the moment within the destroyed village, Myoujou, where they’re hiding from the group of shinobi and Gaara’s trying desperately to get Lee to focus his chakra enough to mask it.

But the success of that particular moment is lost on Gaara because he doesn’t really know how Lee feels about him at that point in time, so his impact on Lee is entirely lost to him....not to mention he’s dealing with a lot of grief and trauma, so he hardly has the wherewithal to be paying attention to whether or not his rescuer is secretly in love with him.

One of my favorite tender moments is this one:

“Do you have a favorite word?” Lee asked, before a yawn interrupted him.

“In Indigosi? Or in general?”

“Both.”

Gaara glanced at Lee from the corner of his eye. “Affection,” he murmured, almost as though he were afraid to admit it. “In Indigosi...” Gaara was silent, his gaze shifting away from Lee to the window. A warmth spread across his brown skin, a blush rising on his high cheekbones. “Rohi.”

He looked down at Lee, something bright behind his eyes.

Heat burned Lee's face like an inferno. “What does that mean?”

Gaara looked away again, hiding from Lee in plain sight. “My soul." The words hung in the air with some other meaning, one that Lee could not decipher. Gaara would forever be a paradox, an ever expanding puzzle for Lee to piece together. He didn't ever want to figure him out completely, but he would never stop trying to get as close to epiphany as he could.

“That is beautiful,” Lee told him as another yawn overtook him.

“I should let you sleep,” Gaara said, moving to get up.

Lee stopped him with an imploring hand against Gaara's forearm. “Stay? You did not finish telling me about your trip to Dusk Country.”

“You kept interrupting,” Gaara teased lightly, settling back into place.

Lee smiled up at him, ever so slightly cheeky. “I promise I will be quiet.”

“You're going to fall asleep,” Gaara corrected.

“Probably. It is very late.”

I love so many of the emotional scenes from this particular chapter, but I love how simple and sweet this moment is. There’s such a wealth of affection in small actions, and I really wanted to highlight that Lee and Gaara have grown closer during their time traveling from Myoujou to Gyokukakushin, and things that were born of necessity (like sleeping close together for warmth) are now things done because they want to. There’s comfort in the closeness of sitting next to one another, there’s something peaceful about Lee falling asleep while Gaara talks to him. It’s a nice moment, less high emotion and more quiet contentment, which I think is much needed after everything they’ve been through.

I think that my other favorite scene would be the scene on the beach, right after they’ve watched the sand artist and Gaara makes his model of Suna. That scene is a complicated affair for Lee because he’s both enjoying his time with Gaara and feeling guilty for enjoying that time together. And of course Gaara’s got a lot going on too, which Lee can only guess at.

One of the other things I really enjoyed about this chapter is the fact of Lee and Gaara being in disguise, and really the use of their aliases. I particularly like any excuse to get Gaara to call Lee “Ren”. I’m particularly in love with that stroke of genius regarding Lee’s alias, and there’s a certain emotion, a certain connection that I really hope I could convey with how they use each other’s aliases.

I could probably talk about this chapter forever, but unfortunately there’s also thins I don’t want to say at the risk of spoiling future chapters since this is still a WIP (and probably will be for a while longer, though we’re almost halfway there! Two more chapters to the halfway mark!) Thank you so much for sending this particular ask anon! I had fun chatting about it and I hope you enjoyed reading my comments!

#naruto #shippuden #rock lee #gaara #gaalee #taol

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