#something makes me soo ill about how she only knows peace and comfort after shes dead.

[skybristle]

peace at last

[indescribablechoices]

Enough (Mr Harper x MC)

Part of the @choices-september-challenge

Day Seventeen: Unexpected. The final part of this little mini series. Part One/Part Two/

Pairing: Mr Harper x MC (Jess Woodmire)

Word Count: 2590

Listening Suggestion: That Would Be Enough - Phillipa Soo

Fic Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @kennaxval @tanyaschoices

Synopsis: Left alone and scared for her future happiness, Jess knows that she has to do something before she finds herself wed to the Duke and torn apart from her beloved Mr Harper forever. Warnings for mild discussions of sex and loss of virginity, my complete historical inaccuracies and generally just mentions of Duke Richards.

Just over two months had passed since Mr Harper’s departure from Edgewater, in which the time frequency of Duke Richard’s visits increased as wedding arrangements were made. Jess took what small comfort she could with Annabelle’s visits, which her friend ensured were more frequent than the Duke’s to keep her in good spirits. When she wasn’t required, she remained in her room, desperately trying to think of anyway out of her predicament.

If she could convince her father to allow her to marry Mr Sinclaire instead. Or perhaps even Prince Hamid; her dear friend who could take her far away from this place where she could start a new life with someone she knew cared for her. But her father had become closed off from her, not talking to her as he once had.

When she could, she wrote to her beloved Luke, slipping the letters to Briar to give to Mr Woods with the hope of finding him. There had been no reply, and no luck in finding where he had gone.

But she knew that she was running out of time.

She sat in the drawing room one afternoon doing needlework with Annabelle, Miss Sutton and her grandmother, who too had been notably silent about the entire affair, when she felt her stomach churn. She paused in her movements, hoping it was a passing discomfort, but when it churned again she knew she had to leave.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Jess said, rising to her feet and hurrying out of the room. She made her way quickly into the garden, unleashing the contents of her stomach into one of the rose bushes. She knelt in the grass, taking in deep breaths to ease the nausea in her body, raking her hair back off of her face to cool herself down.

“Jess?” Annabelle’s voice called from the doorway.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she told her.

Annabelle’s footsteps approached anyway, running to her side when she saw her in the grass, “Whatever’s happened?”

Tears immediately filled Jess’ eyes, “What am I going to do?”

“It’s just a little sick,” Annabelle assured her, “It’s quite alright.”

She shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks, “I’ve been sick for days… And I haven’t bled this month.”

“Oh Jess,” Annabelle said softly, realising crossing her expression, “But when?”

“The night Mr Sinclaire came to the house, when I thought he was going to propose,” she told her.

“If he knows, he may be able to convince your father to reconsider his offer.”

“You misunderstand. I wasn’t with Sinclaire that night.”

“Of course not; that was the night you ran off to the village. Oh, my sweet Jess, did someone…”

“No, no,” Jess shook her head again, “I lied about being alone out there. Luke came to find me.”

“Luke?” her eyebrows shot up, “Mr Harper? The groom?”

Jess chewed her lip, “I love him, Annabelle. And he loves me. We knew that we could never marry, so we allowed ourselves one night… And now I’m carrying his child.”

She began to sob harshly, and Annabelle drew her into her arms, holding her tight as she cried.

“We’ll figure this out,” she said, “I promise.”

“I’ve ruined everything,” Jess whispered, “I cannot hide it for much longer. Soon I will show, and even if I could marry the Duke and convince him that it was his child, he would know when the babe was born.”

“Write to Mr Harper. If you can get him to return and if the two of you were to elope, there would be nothing anyone could do,” Annabelle said.

“He hasn’t responded to any of my letters,” she told her.

“If your love is as true as you say, he likely stays away to protect his own heart, and to protect your reputation.”

Jess laughed softly, a hand pressed to her stomach, “My reputation hardly matters much now.”

Annabelle ran a hand over Jess’ curls, “Tell him of your child. What I do know of him, I know that he is a good man, with a good heart. He will come back for you.”

***

My Luke,

I know that no letter has been able to reach you yet but I hope to god that you read this. My heart yearns for you every day, my darling. Every day draws me closer to my marriage to Duke Richards, and if that day comes, I know not will come of me.

The truth is that I am with child. Our child. Our one night of love has left me with a piece of that love inside of me. But I cannot hide it forever.

I beg of you to return to Edgewater. You may be the only one that can save me now.

My eternal love,

Your Jess

***

Weeks passed with no reply, and every day Jess struggled to hide her pregnancy symptoms. She admitted the truth to Briar, and every morning she helped adjust her corset to attempt to distract from her changing figure. She knew that some women didn’t show until much later, but already her breasts began to swell, as did her usually flat stomach.

She watched the road every day, hoping and praying that she would see Luke’s familiar figure approaching, that he had come to rescue her.

But he never came.

The week before her wedding to Duke Richards, she was called downstairs by her father to his office. But as she entered, she saw the Countess inside as well. She closed the door behind herself.

“Father, what’s going on?” she asked.

Her father placed an envelope on the desk, sliding it towards her. She crossed the room and took it, recognising her own writing on the front immediately. She pulled out the letter inside, her heart sinking into her gut as she realised that this was her last letter to Luke, informing him about the child.

“Is it true?” her father’s voice was quiet, his eyes not leaving his desk.

“Of course it’s true,” the Countess sneered, “It’s all there in writing. The little harlot confessed.”

Jess’ head snapped to look at her, “How do you have this letter? It was my own private letter.”

“I have every single letter you sent to your beloved Mr Harper,” she told her, “Mr Woods decided where his true loyalties lie.”

“Which means you threatened him. You evil witch.”

“Better a witch than a whore,” the Countess gave a hard laugh, “I was right to suggest to the Duke to have him sent away.”

“I should have known that was you. You have been determined to make my life miserable before you even met me.”

“I knew from the beginning that you were a no-good harlot like your dear mother.”

“Enough!” the Earl said, glancing up to look at his daughter, “Tell me plainly, Jess. Is what you wrote in this letter true?”

She let out a sigh, “Yes, Father. It’s true.”

“So that night you ran away…”

“Mr Harper came to rescue me as I had gotten lost in the woods. I begged him not to take me home so he took me to safety in the village. We confessed our love for each other, and we made our peace with the fact that I would never be able to marry the one man I will ever love because of the position I now have. But we… we allowed ourselves one night together. For all of the nights we would never have.”

The Earl shook his head to himself, “All of the men that came asking for your hand, and you fell for the horse master.”

“No different than you did with my mother,” she said simply.

He met her eyes then; his eyes, the only thing about her that didn’t remind him entirely of his beloved Mary. He let out a breath to himself. How had they been any different when they were younger? Stealing their moments of love together despite knowing that cruel fates would eventually part them.

“I will contact Duke Richards in the morning,” he told her, “And postpone the wedding.”

“Postpone?” she frowned.

“Until after your child is born,” he said, “We will make whatever excuses necessary. Illness perhaps. And when the child is born, you will wed the Duke to secure your position.”

“And what of my child?” she asked.

“An orphanage,” he said, “Or perhaps there will be a couple in the village that will take it. I know it is not an easy thing to consider, but it is the best way for everyone involved.”

Her hand went to her stomach as the Countess began to argue with the Earl, demanding that she be sent away, not be allowed the chance to still take on the estate, that she had proven herself unworthy of her family name.

“No.”

“Excuse me?” the Countess looked at her.

Jess held herself taller, “I said no. I will not give my child away to save my reputation. Ever since the day I set foot here, I have tolerated everything that has been thrown at me. I have worn the fancy dresses, attended the dances and the parties, listened to people who have never met me whisper rumours behind my back, allowed disgusting old men to grope me and call it romance, resigned myself to marriage with a man I didn’t love only to be sold like cattle to the highest bidder all in order to maintain a family name I never knew about until six months ago. But taking away my child? That I will not stand for.”

“You ungrateful wench,” the Countess said.

“I am grateful. For the father I never knew. For a loving grandmother. For the opportunity to realise that this is not the life that I am meant for. Father, you have to power to force this upon me, to lock me away and take my child, then marry the Duke. But to do so would be to will kill my spirit. I will go on in this life a miserable husk of the girl I once was; the daughter you claim to love.”

“What would you have me do, Jess?” he asked.

“I would have you give the estate to Mr Marlcaster, only to inherit after his mother’s death; not yours,” she said, shooting a suspicious eye at the Countess, “He is a good man. You have raised him as your own, name him as your heir and give him your name.”

“And what of you?”

“I will leave and I will never cause you pain ever again. My life will be my own to live how I wish.”

They watched each other for a moment before her father walked around the side of his desk and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight.

“Know that you have never brought me pain, my dear daughter. I have only ever wished happiness for you, and if that happiness must lie beyond these walls, then I must let you go,” he said.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she held him back, “I love you, father.”

“As I love you, Jess,” he stepped back to look at her face once more, “I know not exactly where Mr Harper is now, but I know he had family near the coast. If he is not with them, they may know where he is. Go now, and find joy in your life. Be happy, my darling, and love well.”

As the Countess leapt to her feet in outrage, Jess turned and walked away. Briar helped her pack what little she needed, and after retrieving Clover from the stable, she climbed into the saddle and headed towards the road. She knew her journey would be long, but it could only lead to Luke now.

***

Luke glanced up from the stall he’d been mucking out when he heard footsteps approaching. They were light, clearly that of a woman.

“I’m sorry, miss,” he called, “If you require room and board, you need to ask inside the inn.” There came no reply, so he wiped his hands off on the rag he kept stuff in his back pocket and headed out into the stable proper, “Miss, I…”

His words trailed off at the sight before him. A familiar woman, beautiful as the day he had last seen her, her dark curled hair tied back off her face but allowed to flow around her shoulders, donned in a simple blue dress that hugged around the bump that swelled from her abdomen.

“Jess,” he whispered.

They closed the gap between them, both of their legs urging them forwards. He wrapped his arms around her and their mouths met in a hard, desperate kiss. She began to kiss him back before she suddenly let out a gasp, a hand going to her stomach. He looked at her in alarm, but she grabbed his hand and pressed it against her bump. Faintly, just under his palm, he felt a jolt of pressure.

“Is that…?”

“That’s our baby,” she told him, tears welling up in her eyes, “It’s the first time I’ve felt a kick. She knows her father.”

“It’s a girl?” he asked.

“I think so,” she smiled up at him, heart swelling as his other hand came up to cup her cheek.

“Our baby,” he said the words quietly, testing them in his mouth.

“I wrote to tell you months ago, but the Countess had all of my letters intercepted,” she admitted, “My father wanted me to give the child away and wed the Duke after, but I couldn’t allow that to happen. So I left.”

“What about your inheritance? The estate?” he frowned.

“I could care less for money and an estate if it meant giving up everything that truly matters in life,” she said, one hand on her bump as the other came to rest of his heart, “This is what matters.”

“I have nothing to offer you,” he said quietly, “I work for a modest fee here. I only have a small cottage in the village. I…”

Her hand slid up to press a finger to his lips, “Hush my darling. As long as I have you and our child, that is enough for me. You are enough.”

He brought his forehead down to rest against hers, “You beautiful, wonderful woman.” He went down onto one knee in front of her, “Jessamyn Woodmire, I have adored you from the moment I met you. You became the sole reason for my happiness, and though I never believed this day would come, I have dreamed about it since the first day you took my hand and I helped you out of your carriage to Edgewater. Now I would ask that you for that hand again,” he took hold of her hand gently, “Jess, my Jess, will you do me the honour of being my wife?”

“Yes,” she whispered through her tears, “A thousand times yes.”

***

Mr and Mrs Harper were wed by the end of the week in a modest ceremony in the village church, with Luke’s aunt and uncle as witnesses. They settled into their life together, Luke helping with his family’s inn by keeping the stables running and Jess taking up work as a seamstress.

Their daughter Daisy Annabelle Harper was born five months later on a sunny afternoon in their cottage, a beautiful mix of both of her parents but Jess would always be thankful that she would grow to have Luke’s eyes and his kind heart.

[lookingforthecoolshoeshine]

Here’s a thing I wrote a while back. Half of it is already posted over at ff.net, but I wrote another half since because idk, I was enjoying writing this. Anyway @rael-melancholy wanted me to post it soo.... enjoy?

It’s pretty much phase 1 fluff of the guys looking after a sick Noodle.

Noodle huffed, head bowed over her guitar strings as she tried to ignore the throbbing in her head, the scratching in her throat and the uncomfortable heat. She knew that she was sick, and that she should probably tell someone, but she liked to play the music that they were creating, and she wasn’t even sure how she could tell her bandmates what was wrong; she still didn’t know enough English, and trying to explain to them was too difficult to contemplate. She was struggling to concentrate on the song they were playing, and finding it difficult to move her fingers across her guitar strings with her usual fluidity and dexterity. It was as if they were covered in golden syrup, pulled and slowed down by the viscous, sickly sweet almost liquid.

The thought made her stomach churn and Noodle squirmed, hunching down further over her guitar, teeth grinding against each other as she clenched her jaw together against the stomach acid that was rising up her throat.

Her fingers stumbled, losing the rhythm of the song they were playing- and in all honesty, Noodle couldn’t even remember the name of the piece that they were working on- and before anyone could say anything she had yanked her guitar up and away from her body, thrusting it into a surprised 2D’s hands before slipping from her stool and rushing from the room, hand clamped over her mouth. Noodle could hear her bandmates calling her name as she sprinted down the corridor, barreling into the bathroom just in time to crouch in front of the toilet and empty the contents of her stomach into the bowl. She wasn’t sure how long she was there before she felt a heavy hand gently rub her back, and another smooth the hair away from her face. She jumped when she first felt the contact, body hypersensitive, but didn’t jerk away.

Eventually, Noodle was curled up against Russel’s chest, his hands still rubbing her back and stroking her hair as she shivered uncontrollably. 2D was hovering nearby, wanting to help but not entirely sure what he could do. Russel ignored him, mind racing through all the things that his mum would do for him when he was sick. He looked down at the shivering mess of a girl in his arms, and shifted.

“C’mon, you need to be in bed. Do you want a shower first? Make you feel a little less gross?” he asked gently. Noodle thought about it for a moment, picking through the words, and then nodded. “Alright then. Dee will get you some pyjamas, okay? You wait here, I’m gonna get it ready for you.” He gently sat her back on the floor and stood up, wincing as his back cracked in several places. 2D had already scurried off, relieved that he finally had a task, and Russel moved over to the shower, turning various knobs until it was a decent temperature. By this point 2D had sidled back into the room, clutching a pair of worn pyjamas that had, at one point, been his, but had (along with most of his other old clothes) been donated to Noodle when Mrs Potts had first found out that the young girl was not only living with her son, but that she had no clothes other than the ones that Noodle had been wearing when she had first jumped out of the crate. 2D wasn’t even sure why his mother had still kept all of his own clothes but hadn’t questioned it, and although Noodle’s wardrobe had grown considerably since those first early days, for some reason they had never bothered to replace the pyjamas.

2D placed the clothing on the rail by the towel, and he and Russel waited outside whilst Noodle had her shower, both of them leaning against opposite sides of the corridor.

“Where’s Murdoc?” Russel asked after a while, breaking the silence that had settled in the corridor. 2D shrugged.

“Dunno. He said… said there’s no point to having more band practice today? Something like that, right after you left. Disappeared after that.” 2D scratched his chin idly. “She’s pretty sick isn’t she?”

“Yeah. Poor girl,” Russel sighed. 2D hummed in agreement.

“She looked a bit strange this morning,” he commented, before straightening up as the bathroom door opened and Noodle appeared, steam curling around her ankles. “D’you want to go to sleep now?” he asked, and Noodle nodded. 2D held his hand out and the younger girl slipped her hand into his, letting 2D semi-drag her along to her room, Russel trailing along behind them.

Soon they got back to Noodle’s room, and she huddled into her bed, dragging the covers up and around her body. Both Russel and 2D flitted around, making sure that she was comfortable and warm but not too warm, that there was a bin by her bed in case she threw up again, and that the light was dim enough to sleep, but that it wasn’t completely pitch black. Noodle watched them through half lidded eyes, and soon enough both 2D and Russel were stood by the door, ready to leave her in peace.

“We’ll come and check on you, but if you need us we’ll be in the kitchen,” Russel said softly, still hovering in the doorway. Noodle nodded, hearing his voice but not attempting to follow his sentence, and rolled over. “Get better soon baby,” was all she heard before the door closed with a click and she was finally able to drift off to sleep.

***

Noodle woke with a start, heart racing and head pounding. Her throat felt as if it had been scraped raw, and she kicked off the many blankets she had layered overself before she had gone to sleep, suddenly unbearably hot. Noodle couldn’t remember exactly what had woken her up, but she wished that she hadn’t. The wind was howling around Kong, louder than normal, and rain lashed at her windows. The light from her nightlight, normally a source of comfort, was casting odd shadows through the room and various objects that Noodle couldn’t quite pinpoint loomed at her through the gloom. Noodle whimpered as her fevered brain turned the objects into horrifying monsters, and she pushed back against the headboard, eyes fixed on what was normally her blue chair but seemed have become a mysterious, imposing figure.

There was a flash of lightning, followed by a loud clap of thunder, and Noodle scrambled out of bed, tripping on her blankets in the process and falling to the floor with a loud thump. Eyes watering as she banged her knee hard on the floor, Noodle got to her feet clumsily and, snagging one of the blankets of her bed, fled the room.

It wasn’t much better outside of her room. Whilst it was brighter, the fluorescent lighting was making Noodle’s head spin as she wandered through the empty hallways with no clear direction of where she was going. Somewhere in her muddled haze, Noodle intended to find Russel, who would know what she needed to feel better, or 2D, who gave the best hugs, or even Murdoc, who would probably grunt at her but let her stay with him and at least be company. Unfortunately, she had no idea where they were and Kong was a maze at the best of times, let alone when she was ill and running a bad fever.

After what felt like hours of stumbling around on her own (but what was, in reality, thirty minutes), Noodle was ready to give up completely. She had ended up sitting on the floor because her legs felt like jelly and she was still shivering, despite her blanket and the fact that she felt hot and sticky in her sweaty pyjamas, and all Noodle wanted to do was curl up and cry because everything hur-

“Noodle?” Noodle looked up, and 2D’s concerned face swam into focus. “You alright?”

“Toochee,” Noodle croaked, reaching out for him, and he pulled her into his arms. Noodle immediately burrowed into him, closing her eyes.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he asked softly, looking down at Noodle’s spiky hair.

“‘S not right. There’s a… a…” Noodle trailed off and 2D waited patiently while she found the right word. “A ‘grr’,” she eventually said, giving up when the word didn’t come to her, and she screwed her fingers up into an imitation of claws. 2D frowned.

“A ‘grr’? Do you mean monster?”

“Yes,” she replied, although she wasn’t sure. “Stay with you?” Noodle asked hopefully, peeking up at 2D through her fringe. 2D smiled softly back.

“Of course you can. Let’s go find Russel.” He scooped her up, rearranging her so he was giving her a piggyback (because although Noodle was small, she wasn’t small enough for 2D to be able to carry her in his arms like Russel could), and he set off in the direction of the living room. Noodle rested her chin on his shoulder as he walked, only half listening to whatever film 2D was talking about.

By the time they reached the living room, Noodle had almost drifted off to sleep again, rousing only slightly when she was pulled off of 2D’s back and settled on to the sofa, her blanket arranged over her.

“Better?” asked 2D, and Noodle looked at him and then at Russel, who was watching her from over the top of his coffee.

“Better,” she replied, before succumbing to the demands of her tired body and drifting to sleep completely.

***

Noodle wasn’t asleep for very long, jerking awake when Murdoc stumbled into the room at a time so late that it was in the early hours of the morning. He squinted at her, clutching a bottle of some sort of spirit, and Noodle stared back, resting her aching head back against a sleeping 2D’s arm.

“Thought you were in bed,” Murdoc commented, picking his way through the debris in the messy room and flinging himself down in an armchair opposite the sofa. Noodle didn’t answer immediately, merely watching him, before pushing her sweaty bangs out of her eyes.

“‘S better here,” she murmured eventually, throat rasping. Murdoc winced, and rooted around in a box that was sat underneath the table next to the armchair, before chucking a small packet to Noodle.

“Take one of those, yeah?” Noodle picked up the box from where it had landed on her lap, examining it and then looking back at Murdoc. “They’re strepsils. For your throat,” Murdoc explained, pointing at his neck. Noodle returned her attention back to the box of lozenges, before popping one out of the silver foil. Turning the orange sweet over in her fingers, she hesitated before putting it in her mouth at the encouraging nod from Murdoc. Noodle flinched at the flavour, and the strange feeling that settled on her tongue, but didn’t spit it out.

“Don’t fall asleep though before it’s finished, I cannot be arsed to deal with Russel if you choke, he’ll be giving everyone enough grief as it is whilst you’re sick.” Noodle blinked lethargically at Murdoc, not following his speech pattern that was difficult to understand at the best of times. “How are you feeling now anyway? Were you sick again?”

“Sick?” she asked, frowning.

“Yeah, like earlier in rehearsal. Whilst we were playing.” Noodle thought through his words and nodded, casting her eyes down at the blanket that 2D had draped over her shoulders earlier.

“In my room,” she confirmed. “In a… um… bowl?” she asked, and Murdoc nodded when Noodle looked up for affirmation. “In a bowl. Russel take it.”’

“Hmm. Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Hurt?”

“Yeah. Um… sore? Pain?” Noodle frowned. Murdoc thought, then placed his hand on his forehead, making the sort of groaning sounds 2D did when he had a migraine. Noodle’s expression cleared.

“An ouch?” she asked for clarification. Murdoc shrugged.

“Sure, an ouch. Do you have an ouch?” Noodle nodded. “Where does it… where is the ouch?”

“Here, and here, and here,” replied Noodle, pointing to her head, then her throat, then her stomach. “And is cold, but not cold.”

“Hmm. Sorry love. Sounds like you have the flu,” said Murdoc, settling back in his chair.

“Flu?”

“Yeah. It’s why you’re sick. Don’t worry, you’ll get better, but it won’t be fun. Lots of sleep, maybe some soup, definitely orange juice… hm. Should make a list, really.” Murdoc scratched the top of his head, trailing off in his musings, before lunging for the notebook and pen that was on the coffee table from a brainstorming session the week before, pulling the cap off the pen with his teeth and scribbling down a few items on it. “Tissues… probably more strepsils… maybe some cough medicine… bet 2D’s got some painkillers somewhere… although you may need some normal ones, who knows how strong his actually are, could overdose you by accident… I think cabbage contains vitamin C? Pfft, it’ll make Russel happy, he’ll believe it anyway… hey, Noodle love, I know you’re tired, but don’t fall asleep yet. How’s the strepsil?” Murdoc’s attention snapped to Noodle, who had almost drifted off to sleep again, and she scowled at him. “Open your mouth, let me see.”

Murdoc opened his mouth wide, and Noodle copied him. He stomped over and peered in, but couldn’t see any sign of the orange lozenge, so he simply ruffled her hair and slouched back to his seat. “Alright then, time for sleep,” he grumbled, using the phrase that was parroted to her every night by whoever was responsible for making sure she went to bed. It was normally Russel.

Noodle nodded once more, settling herself more comfortably against 2D, who automatically rearranged his limbs so she would be comfortable without waking out of his own sleep, and she closed her eyes to Murdoc staring at her.

***

The next few days were unusually quiet for Kong. Murdoc’s diagnosis had proven to be true, and Noodle had been practically bedridden, drifting in and out of consciousness whilst 2D and Russel fretted over her, clucking about her temperature and the coughs that wracked her body every so often. There had been one particularly scary day, not long after the first day of her illness, when her temperature had soared and it had been difficult to rouse her for any time at all, Noodle either muttering in broken Japanese in her fitful sleep or gazing uncomprehendingly and with glassy eyes around the room for the few moments that she was awake. That day had terrified all the members of the band, and 2D’s mother had to spend three hours reassuring them down the phone that Noodle was going to be okay but that they needed to keep her hydrated and comfortable whilst she caught the train to Kong from Crawley. Eventually, sometime in the middle of the night and just as Russel was about to bundle Noodle up and drive her to the nearest hospital room, her fever had finally broken and her temperature had begun to fall. Mrs Pot had stayed long enough to see Noodle wake up around breakfast time, the young girl pushing around the cereal in her bowl with her spoon rather than actually eating, before 2D and Russel saw Mrs Pot out to the taxi, thanking her profusely for her help. Murdoc had already disappeared once it became apparent that Noodle’s fever had broken, presumably with the intention of drinking himself into a stupor to celebrate, and Noodle herself had fallen asleep again.

***

It was a few days after that that Noodle finally felt well enough to play again. She had woken up that morning finally free from the headache that had been plaguing her for a week, without the shaky feeling in her limbs or the scratchiness in her throat. She had hummed experimentally, before throwing back her covers and stripping out of her pyjamas, pulling clothing haphazardly from her wardrobe before finally settling on a red pair of shorts and matching jacket. Noodle jammed her helmet on her head, clipping her fringe back with the small pink slide that Russel had given her after a shopping trip, and bounding out of her room and into the kitchen. Russel looked up in surprise from his morning coffee, grinning when he saw Noodle displaying some of her usual enthusiasm that had been missing in recent days.

“Hello Russel,” Noodle said, clambering into her normal seat and relishing in the fact that her voice had finally returned.

“Good morning Noodle. Feeling better?”

“Better,” Noodle replied, swinging her legs. “No more sick.”

“Good. You hungry?”

“Small hungry,” Noodle replied, resting her chin on the table whilst she waited for Russel to fix her breakfast. Russel chuckled, sliding a small bowl of frosties across the table towards her.

“Is that okay? Do you want a few more?”

“No, this is good.” Noodle picked up her spoon and started scooping the cereal into her mouth, pausing every so often to either cough or sip from the glass of orange juice Russel had placed by her elbow. A short while later, as Noodle was beginning to slow down in the eating of her cereal, 2D had drifted into the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and slumping at the table, not even noticing Noodle as he pulled a plate of toast closer, squinting at it before pushing it away again and letting his head fall on top of his arms which had been crossed and were resting on the table. Noodle tapped him on the elbow. 2D lifted his head from his arms, looking down at her blearily.

“Better now. No more sick,” Noodle said, grinning at him. 2D blinked at her, then patted her helmet.

“Good. You were sick for ages,” he replied, picking up the least burnt slice of toast from the discarded plate and crunching down on it.

“Long time,” agreed Noodle, sipping her juice. “We play yes?”

“Uh… sure…” agreed 2D, glancing quickly at Russel, who had shrugged back. “Soon’s Murdoc’s awa- Noodle?”

Noodle had already slipped down from her chair, running for the door, her almost empty bowl left forgotten on the table. “I get my guitar!” she called from over her shoulder, already hurrying down the corridor. Russel and 2D watched her go with dumbfounded expressions.

“Guess she really is better,” said Russel, shaking himself out of his stupor and draining his coffee mug. 2D’s head dropped back on top of his arms.

[gwynne-fics]

Becoming Royals

offering

Rachel made a last ditch effort to get Young-Do to let her ride her horse to the temple to make her offering. No matter what she promised, he was intractable about it and required her to use the palanquin. “I’m not going to purposely endanger our child for my own selfish desire for freedom.”

“I know. And I got you a battle mare partially for this reason. But I don’t want any accidents. With a palanquin there are six men carrying you. If something happens to one, even if it is on accident, there are five other men to bear the weight. This is a surprise visit. I’m mostly sure we won’t be ambushed.”

Her eyebrows went up at his paranoia and she reached up to cup his cheek. “I don’t do well inside a cage,” she said softly. “I like riding and being able to see the world around me. The palanquin makes me claustrophobic. What do you know about the city today that I do not?”

He tensed slightly and swallowed. “After last night, I do not trust the King not to use his private guard to take you hostage as they kill me.”

“They cannot kill you. I will absolutely start another civil war if he does.” She knew it concerned Young-Do when she talked like this but she had to remind him what was in her heart so he understood her love. “I have seen you in action, my prince, and I believe that even in the face of overwhelming force, you will succeed, for me.”

“I need you safe in the palanquin,” he whispered and bowed his head to hers. “I can only do that if I know you’re safe. I made too many mistakes when we retook your home because my fear that Kim Tan would hurt you was overwhelming. Please.”

Rachel couldn’t refuse him when he begged her like this. She sighed and the nodded. Within fifteen minutes, the palanquin was ready and she was inside. She was a little testy that Eun-Sang did not join her and they left before she could get a good enough explanation from Hyo-Shin. She tried not to focus on the way the air inside felt hot despite the lingering winter’s chill.

At least the journey was short and she did not vomit into her pot.

Young-Do was very sweet as he helped her out of the palanquin and gave her water to drink and a rice ball to settle her stomach. He kissed her forehead and fretted about her until the monk in charge of the temple came out to greet him. Young-Do bowed more politely than he needed to and explained the reason for their impromptu visit.

“Of course, your majesty. I will have the acolytes prepare the alter for you. Shall I have the nuns take charge of the crown princess?”

“No,” Young-Do said. “I apologize. While I do trust in the independence of the temples, I also understand how the court works right now. There are enough people unhappy with me and the crown princess to put her life in danger. We are here to show our gratitude that our son has quickened. We must stay together.”

Rachel was relieved that the monk did not look offended. “Yes, your majesty. Feel free to walk around the grounds and allow the peace of their quiet to calm your hearts. I will send someone when we are ready for the princess to make her offering.”

They were left alone and Rachel motioned one of the nuns over. A young woman came up and bowed politely as Rachel held out some money. “We came unprepared and must impose upon the temple. This should make up for our inconvenience.”

She caught Young-Do’s faint blush and she just smiled once they were effectively alone. “Eun-Sang would usually handle that for me. Did Hyo-Shin explain why she was unavailable?”

“She ate something last night that didn’t agree with her. He says she’ll be up to managing you when we get back. I didn’t chide him from encouraging her to rest. If she doesn’t feel good then she won’t be able to watch your food as closely. He did that duty for us this morning. He didn’t cook, obviously, but he watched it the entire way. I tested it.”

“If Eun-Sang tests my food and it made her ill--”

“It was after we went to bed. Hyo-Shin insists she’s fine. He spent the night looking after her. Should I have Hyun-Joo look at her?”

Rachel bit her lower lip and tried to be reasonable. The last time Eun-Sang had been sick it was years ago. She was normally so healthy that for her to take even a few hours off was unusual. “I don’t want that rumor getting around. Song Ji-Sun is the sweetest woman alive but her family...it is bad enough that Prince Myung-Soo’s gisaeng habit is public knowledge. It puts Yoo-Ra in a difficult place. Only distance keeps his gisaeng safe from her. Protecting Eun-Sang means avoiding the appearance of their love. His father already knows. I don’t doubt he still has influence in the palace.”

Young-Do kissed her forehead and then took her hands. “He gets married in a few weeks. I will remind him to be careful with your precious sister.”

“You think I’m paranoid.” Rachel felt her cheeks heat up.

“I think you have a very good sense of what is going on at court and that you love your maid very much.” He took her hand as a nun walked towards them with purpose. “I want her well because she will be a comfort to you when I’m gone.”

Rachel had to hide her sadness with that statement as they bowed to the nun and were escorted inside. The offering was simple and she only had to bow and stand seven times. Two nuns attended her throughout the process to make it easier because Young-Do had to do the bowing and standing and bowing with her. She was supposed to pray throughout the process but as someone who didn’t really believe, she let her mind wander.

She knew better than to beg the heavens for a baby boy. Instead, she hoped Eun-Sang’s illness was not a sign of something more serious for her sister.

The performance was what mattered and that’s why she was here. 

Rachel pretended not to see the small crowd at the edge of the temple grounds gathering for a glimpse of her. She made sure that the people could see that she was growing well into her pregnancy as she climbed back into the palanquin. Young-Do fretting and making sure she was properly settled was a nice touch to send them off with.

She dozed briefly on the way back and was relieved that Eun-Sang met them in the courtyard to attend her. She didn’t bother to be subtle as she checked for signs of a more serious illness. Eun-Sang smiled and kissed her cheek. Rachel frowned slightly. She smelled like Rachel’s candy. “I am fine. Come take a bath so you can fall asleep right after dinner.”

Rachel sighed and leaned against her. “I didn’t do anything today. I’m not going to fall asleep after dinner.”

She tried not to be cranky that Eun-Sang was right.