#sorry no duke for now i am not so acquainted with him as i am with others :((

[acid-ixx]

(masterlist &. synopsis) gn! chronically ill reader with a platonic! yandere batfam who accepts their pampering

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: sorry for the on and off hiatus ^^ i am very much invested in dc and altho i have only read a few comics, i try to be very close to canon with this one. this was written with POTS in mind but the illness is vague for the purpose of inclusivity !! requests will be open soon enough once i fix my account up and add request rules. keep in mind, the reason why i would be posting separate headcanons is because i plan for each of them to be longer than usual.

just imagine life with platonic! yandere batfam after their initial kidnapping. they've abducted you after a few months of stalking, gathering every bit of information about you from either the long or short times you've talked to them, or from watching you from afar at your most vulnerable state inside your very much hidden-camera-free apartment (lies. they have cameras implanted in every crevice of your room and even tampered with security cameras in the entire building just to ensure ultimate surveillance for you!)— it may be illegal, sure, no kidding it is, but they promise it's for your safety (and well-being) and nothing else! (other than the fact that they needed to know everything about you to guarantee your permanent stay with them would be stress-free and enjoyable not only in their eyes but yours too, especially since you require more needs than the average person but, ah! you just perfectly captured the attention of the most capable people who would bend the rules of the universe just for you.

everything was very much an elaborate scheme to get you to easily submit to their whims without a single fibre of fight in your bones. they have your entire room set up; ones with the comfiest sheets, a room where fresh, unpolluted air is accessible through baby-proofed windows— and you can even keep your (hacked) phone to call them whenever you need something. really, you have everything you need! all you have to do is accept their proposal... though, they wouldn't mind being patient either way.

what they didn't know was that they didn't even need to go through so much effort to keep you from escaping. hell, it's like the moment your eyes blink the tiredness away, and your brain registers the entirely new (and bigger) space you were in, it's like you merely accepted your fate.

you're creepily greeted with almost the exact same copy of your room, except the blanket you know and love with the same color, same design, same smell doesn't feel, or much less have the same texture as your previous blanket. in fact the fabric is way more high quality, the texture doesn't overstimulate you as much as the sheets you were used to back at home. the lights aren't as bright, in fact it was a welcoming shade that blends in well with the natural light that floods through the windows— windows that welcome in the faintest scent of floral growth, fresh and unlike the polluted air of gotham that you were never accustomed to.

before you could even force your body to sit up, joints a tad bit heavier and your mind cloudier than before, a soft knock disrupts your train of thought. the door opens and you are greeted with a butler and... even stranger, bruce wayne with his other children in tow.

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Three - Becoming acquainted

♡♡♡

When the letter arrived at your house, your mother squealed with delight. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her, it would seem.

Though you did make a point to remind her, this is not what she thought it was.

Still, you were dragged off to be cleaned throughly and dressed in your best gown for the occasion. Your mother saw to every detail. It was tiresome.

You said not a word the entire time.

Once you were dressed, she guided you to the carriage. For the entire ride, she told you what to do. You spent the whole trip looking out the window, wishing to disappear. You had been looking forward to a nice dinner with an intriguing family, but you knew your mother would make this unbearable.

The thought to befriend Benedict and Daphne had crossed your mind after they left last night. That's what you would look for in them. Friendship.

When you arrive at their home you are left in awe of how beautiful the house was from outside. You follow your mother up to the front door and wait to be let in. You step inside and find yourself further in awe. Their home was lovely. It felt cosy.

Lady Bridgerton comes over to greet you both. "I am glad to see you here. Please, come inside."

You're led into the drawing room where everyone is sitting and chatting. You find yourself startled to see the Duke of Hastings present. He greets you with a nod. You nod back.

Violet introduces you to the rest of the family. Anthony greets you the same way as the Duke. Benedict offers you a small smile, though you're not sure if he's actually pleased to see you or not. Colin kisses the back of your hand, and you smile. Daphne smiles softly at you. Eloise says nothing. She just looks at you, a book in her hands. Francesca gives a soft smile. Gregory and Hyacinth both say hello to you.

Violet urges you to join the others until dinner is ready. You look around the room and find there are no available seats. Benedict realises this, too, and stands up. "Please, sit here."

You thank him quietly and sit down where he had been. The seat was warm. He must have been sat in here a while.

Conversation proceeds within the room. Anthony is talking away the Duke. Eloise has her nose back in her book. Benedict stands behind you, his hand resting on the back of the chair.

"I didn't realise your family knew the Duke of Hastings." You said softly, looking up at Benedict.

"Anthony and he were friends back in Oxford. Do you know him?"

"Not personally. I've heard much of his father, though..."

The subject was a sore one, so neither of you said any more. You glance at the Duke. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else right now.

Benedict brings your attention back to him. "I'm sorry about my mother."

"Don't be." You smile. "I know how it is."

Benedict smiles, too. "Still, I will admit, I am pleased you are here."

"You are?"

"I'm very fond of making new friends. Does that sound good to you? My sister could also perhaps use a friend right now too."

You glance at Daphne and then back at Benedict. "Yes. That does sound rather nice. I hear the Bridgerton's are quite the friends to have."

Benedict smiles. "I think we are."

You both chuckle and smile at one another. From Violet's point of view, she believes you two are getting along quite nicely. The Duke has yet to speak to Daphne at all.

The bell for dinner is rung, and you all rise. You walk with Benedict to the dining room. Your mother joins Lady Bridgerton.

Benedict pulls out a chair for you, and you sit down. Daphne sits beside you and Benedict across from you.

The Duke is seated on the other side of Daphne.

Dinner is lovely. The whole family is sitting together at the table. Conversation flows naturally. There are smiles and giggles.

The conversation turns to Lady Whistledown.

"Haven't you heard what we're talking about? For all we know, Whistledown may be some interloper living in Bloomsbury, of all palces." Colin says.

You chuckle.

"What should be so terrible about Bloomsbury?" Benedict asks. "That people ther actually work for a living?"

"She does seem to be someone with access." Daphne points out.

"Who knows if Whsitledown is even a she?"

"Fair point." Anthony chines in.

"Because she is simply too good to be anyone but a man?" Eloise asks.

Benedict pulls a face at Eloise. You chuckle.

"Well, I think it rather obvious that the writer is Lady Danbury." Francesca says firmly.

"Lady Danbury enjoys sharing her insults with society directly." Daphne adds. "She would never bother herself writing them all down."

"Could it be Lady Featherington?" Hyacinth asks.

"No!" The whole table explodes into laughter.

"You have yet to read what Whistledown writes of the Featheringtons, little sister." Eloise tells her.

The table fills with different conversations now. Everyone is talking to each other about different things. You listen mostly to Benedict and Colin.

"I'm to spar Jackson himself." Colin says.

"You?" Benedict looks at him with disbelief.

"Is that envy I detect in your voice?"

You chuckle at the brothers. You're so focused on them thst you don't notice Daphne looking at the Duke beside her.

"Judgement, brother. I shall need to witness this." Benedict says.

Colin rolls his eyes, and you laugh again. Benedict looks up and smiles at you. "You'll come, yes? We shall watch as my brother fails in this endeavour."

Colin looks at you. "Please do not feed into my brother's terrible influence."

Benedict pretends to be hurt as he puts his hand on his chest. "You wound me."

You giggle. Benedict and Colin both chuckle with you, smiling at their own banter.

Things are getting tense beside you between Daphne and the Duke. You look at your plate, trying to ignore the atmosphere building.

"You are a rake... through and through." You hear Daphne say. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"Who is to refrain from thinking about whom again?" The Duke asks.

"I assure you. I am anything but interested in you." Daphne states.

"Good."

"Quite."

"And I am anything but interested in you, the eldest sister of my oldest friend, yet another subject of a certain writer. Chaste, neat, desperate."

You glance up at Benedict and Colin. Colin glances at Anthony, Benedict looks up at you as if checking to see if you're okay.

"I shall have you know-"

"To marry, that is." The Duke cuts her off. "Tell me I am wrong."

Elosie laughs, but the look her mother gives her soon had her quiet again.

"Hastings, I'm so glad you decided to join us this evening." Anthony says, breaking the tension. "It was most spontaneous of you."

You feel yourself relax again.

"Not at all." Simon responds. "With Lady Danbury accepting your dear mother's gracious invitation on my behalf... Well, however could I have declined."

Anthony looks at his mother, not looking too pleased with this news.

"You must stay for dessert. You too," she addresses you.

You smile. "Thank you."

"It's gooseberry pie, Your Grace." Violet smiles at the Duke.

"Ah! Lovely!" He sounds pleased.

Violet chuckles.

After dinner, you find yourself back in the drawing room. You're standing by the window with Benedict. He had been telling you a little bit about the house.

"It seems your mother has become quite acquainted with my own," he says, guiding you to the sofas.

"Yes. They spent a good portion of dinner chatting."

"I do believe mother only intended to invite you tonight," he chuckles.

"Yes. Well, mother is quite... eager to see me married. She thinks I stand a chance with one of you." You chuckle. "Fear not, I am not after your hand."

Benedict chuckles. "I do think we may become rather good freinds."

"You do?"

He nods with a smile.

"Then I am delighted to earn your companionship."

You both chuckle.

"You're welcome anytime." He tells you.

"I feel rather honoured."

"You should," he grins.

The hour starts to grow late. Violet passes by the doors of the drawing room. For a moment, she thought you and Benedict were alone in there, but as she comes closer, she spots Eloise reading in one corner, and Francesca working on her embroidery.

Violet enters the room. "I hope dinner was alright."

You look up and smile. "It was lovely. Thank you for inviting me."

Violet comes a little closer. "Well, any friend of my sons and daughters are welcome in my home." She glances at Benedict, who smiles at her.

Lady Bridgerton understands that her son has no intention of courting you. Nor do you seem to have any interest in him that way. However, a mother can hold onto hope.

"Benedict, why don't you escort her home?"

You rise from the sofa with him and bid goodnight to his sisters, who both say goodbye in return. Violet sees you both to the door. Benedict takes your arm as you exit out onto the street.

It only dawned on you that your mother was nowhere to be seen. Benedict realises you're looking for as you exit his home.

"It would seem she left a little earlier. Apparently, you were enjoying yourself so much with us. She decided to let you stay a while longer."

You smile. "Is that so?"

"I'm guessing. I have no idea." He grins.

Benedict takes you home, making sure you get inside safely. Before you leave his side and head in for the night, he asks you a question.

"Will you be attending the ball tomorrow?" He asks.

"I believe so, yes."

He smiles. "Save me a dance?"

You chuckle. "Of course. We have to help each other, no?"

Benedict smiles and watches you go inside. Even when the door shuts behind you he remains standing there for a moment.

Yes, you could help each other. You could help keep his mother at bay for a while, and perhaps he can help bring some attention your way.

Sounds like a plan.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi

[dpsisquared]

wipwed idk if I'll finish this but a lot of people asked what happened after my fic where Hopesmitri dreams of his AM life, so here is a snippet of their meeting

Jeralt Eisner, the once-famous Blade Breaker nodded his head. "Your Majesty. You requested a meeting?" "Yes, thank you so much for coming." Rodrigue said on behalf of the king. "This is my second in command--" "Byleth?" Dimitri finished for him, and then cursed himself for a fool. "Yes, Byleth Eisner." The Blade Breaker eyed him suspiciously. And well he should, since apparently Dimitri had been fantasizing about the man's daughter. "I didn't know you two were acquainted." "We aren't, of course," Dimitri said quickly. "My captain, Shez, told me her name." He gestured at his friend, desperately hoping to deflect Jeralt's critical stare. "I didn't--" Shez started. Dimitri liked to foster a feeling of equality among his friends. His dearest wish was to be simply one of the group, without titles or extra formalities. Thus, it wasn't often that he pulled out his Kingly I-can-execute-you-with-one-word glare, but Shez was getting it now. "-- realize you had such a great memory, Your Majesty!" the former mercenary finished, narrowly saving himself from the brig. "Do I know you, kid?" Jeralt asked the purple-haired man. Shez shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "We skirmished when I was a part of Berling's Mercenaries." "Ah, I'm sorry to hear that. That was a damn shame." Byleth's face didn't change, but she put her hands together and bowed her head slightly, a gesture of apology. "I'm sorry. I couldn't persuade them to retreat. Despite my reputation, I will only fight when necessary to survive." Beautiful, kind, practical, compassionate... the list of her admirable qualities just kept growing. "Heh. You and I are cut from the same cloth," Felix said, to Dimitri's astonishment. He rarely spoke up during meetings like this. "Come to the training grounds sometime. I'm eager to test my strength against your steel." To the Duke's annoyance, he was now on the receiving end of the King's never before seen I-can-break-Shields-just-as-easily-as-swords glare. "Tch. Settle down, boar," he said, but he took a step back and remained silent the rest of the conversation. "My sword is silver, not steel," Byleth said. Like an innocent angel, she floated above their petty disputes.

[gay-little-treat-wizard]

Elrya: The New World By T. A. Onkọwe (Me)

7 - Kaeden

The docks of Comraich Kyst were quiet as Kaeden's ships docked. His ship docked next to a smaller one with... pink sails?

Cute.

By the colour of the sails and the flag they flew, Kaeden knew they were Amerosian. By the glares and whispers coming form their ship, he knew they realized they were from Cerisi. There was a long-standing history of tension between Ameros and the continent of Erisia, the land Cerisi lay right next to. It wasn't uncommon for Erisian and Amerosian crews to devolve into fights when they encountered each other. Hopefully, this could be avoided.

They were the only two ships on this quartered of part of the dock. Kaeden helped his crew disembark and secure the ship to the dock. As he backed away from the ship, carrying a heavy chest full of armour and gear, his back was to the docks. Normally, a crew member would be behind him, making sure he didn't collide with someone, but for whatever reason no one was helping him. Inevitably, he bumped into someone, and the person fell over. Kaeden dropped the chest in surprise, nearly dropping it on several people's toes.

He wiped around to help the stranger, reaching out to help them up. The stranger, a longhaired blonde, doesn't immediately grab Kaeden's hand to get up, seemingly very startled, giving Kaeden the time to get a good look at... her? No. Him. The blonde is several heads shorter than Kaeden, tiny really, with wide emerald eyes. They're mesmerising, so mesmerising that, for a moment, he didn't notice the blonde's expression shift from confusion to anger.

"Look where you're going, you bloody-" the blonde hissed and scrambled to their feet, smacking Kaeden's hand away.

Kaeden shook himself out of his trance and started to apologise, when Arynn stepped in front of him, getting in the blonde's face. "Look, Miss, you'll give our Prince some respect."

"Tell your Prince to learn how to walk." Kaeden was about to step in front of the two and attempt to deescalate the situation, when a sailor stepped out from amidst the crowd behind the blonde.

"Flynn, are you alright?" The sailor looked back and forth between Kaeden and Flynn, who was now glaring daggers at Arynn.

"I'm fine," He muttered, rubbing a bruise on his forearm that the sailor locked his eyes on. "Let's just go."

"Did you hurt him?" The sailor's hand strayed to the hilt of his sword, eyes still on Flynn's arm.

Kaeden spoke up. "I'm-"

Arynn interrupted, getting in the sailor's face. "He got in our way."

"Oh, I didn't know the docks belonged to you and your royal jackass." The sailor shoved Arynn backwards. A crowd was beginning to form around the four, Kaeden's crew on his side and, presumably, Flynn's on his side. The blonde was also joined by a scarlet haired archer who grabbed his forearm, right above the bruise. Several of the sailors were armed, most of them were getting angry. Arynn's hand hovered over his mace's hilt.

"Don't you dare fucking touch-"

"Enough! Arynn, enough. It was an obvious misunderstanding." His yell was punctuated by a crack of lightning. He shoved Arynn out of the way. "I'm sorry. We have a medic on board who can help with your injuries."

"I'm fine." The blonde answered absently, eyes fixed on the gathering grey clouds. He held up his formally injured hand. It was almost completely healed, the bruise looked weeks old.

"How did you-" He was interrupted yet again.

This time by a throat clearing and a wooden staff tapping against the floor. He and Flynn both turned towards the source of the noise; A little grey, dark skinned lady in priestess robes.

"I see you've already become acquainted." The Priestess grinned mischievously. "I am Mother Qiara. Welcome to Comraich Kyst, Kaeden of Lormir, Crown Prince of the Southern Cerisi Isle, Duke of Grale and son of the sky, Fianna and Flynn ó Maoilriain, citizen's of Myira, children of the heart. Welcome to Comraich Kyst."

"You have my sincerest apologies for my crew's behaviour." Kaeden bowed, deeply. "It was an accident: A misunderstanding. Forgive us Mother Qiara stewardess of the flame." Flynn and the redhead, presumably Fianna, also bowed.

"Apologies, ember guide." She spoke up for the first time.

"You are all forgiven. This is not the first time I've seen Amerosian and Erisian sailors almost come to blows." Mother Qiara chuckled. "Just don't let this incident repeat. The holy land is no place for violence."

"Of course. We'll be on our best behaviour." Flynn assured her.

The two groups split up and finished unloading and disembarking. The planned delegation of noble born soldiers was ready to, but Kaeden had to make some last-minute adjustments. As Arynn hauled his own pack from his quarters, Kaeden stopped him. "You can't join us."

"What? But I-"

"Your actions today were disgraceful. Our mission here is as political as it is military and you've already insulted demigods from our allied country. These are people I have to work and journey with for months." Kaeden shook his head. "You've proven today you can't handle that; You're not coming."

Arynn's face paled. "You can't just leave me here."

"You said it yourself; I am the prince so I can and I am." Kaeden pushed past him. "Be on your best behaviour, and I may even let you re-join us before we leave Comraich Kyst."

Arynn followed him, pleading. "You're leaving me behind, for a drifter?"

Kaeden sighed, Arynn was, for lack of a better word, spoiled, the inevitable result of a noble class who's only responsibility was fighting, drinking and deciding who was the best at fighting and drinking. Until now, he'd been an easy way to keep up his facade, now he was just a political liability. What kind of future king would he be if he let this behaviour slide? Especially when he wasn't just messing with random Ameros sailors. Still on the boat, watching the previous argument and this one, are pink robed priests of Philia. They weren't the only ones watching. He couldn't explain it, but he could feel Flynn's emerald eyes critically burrowing into him.

"I'm leaving you behind because you're an idiot and a political liability." Kaeden shook his head and turned around, not sparing Arynn another glance.

"Fine! Go join that faqua[1]."

Kaeden froze

That word weighed heavy, like an iron blanket. It was a word he heard with every screw up, every display of weakness. He hadn't heard that word in years. Not since he was young. Not since he'd grown strong enough to defeat any soldier in Cerisi. The rest of the crew fell silent but a few nervous chuckles. Kaeden turned about and approached Arynn silently, the grey clouds rolled in again, darkening the sky above the ship. As he got closer, Arynn stepped back. Kaeden didn't waiver. He stopped when he stood right in front of Arynn, who was now backed up against the edge of the ship, looking petrified.

Kaeden stared him down. Arynn shook in his boots, clearly internally battling between his desire to not look weak to the rest of the crew and his desire to not be thrown overboard.

"What did you say?"

Arynn swallowed. "I called him a faqua."

Kaeden's eyes narrowed. "You called Flynn a faqua. You called a demigod a faqua." He repeated. "And what is a faqua?"

"I-I- Uhm." Arynn's eyes darted around, looking to his crew mates for help, but they all averted their gaze. "A-A- A weakling, a man with no power, a man who's not a man." He stammered out, not saying the quiet part out loud.

"You will be confined to your quarters until it is time to sail back and O'Brin," The sailor he mentioned perked up. "Will ensure the King regent hears of this and you are adequately punished while I am away. Do you understand?" Kaeden asked in such a way that made it obvious it wasn't a real question.

Arynn nodded, meekly. "Y-Yes."

"Yes, who?"

"Y-Yes, your highness." He squeaked out. "Good. Now, leave." Kaeden turned away, not waiting for a response. He heard Arynn scurry away. After a moment, using the silence to calm down, Kaeden too turned about, eye's racking across his crew's shocked faces until he met a pair of questioning green eyes peering up at him from the docks.

[1] A homophobic west Elvan slur

A.N- @sewi-li-suwi, @sinharder, @reiki-tsubetai@concoctionboy and @hummbirb if you're interested. Let me know if you don't want to be @'ed.

[sukirichi]

dutifully yours. [01]

Attached to the could’ve been’s of a promised happily ever after with the Crown Prince disguised under a scheme for power and greed, you are torn between choosing your happiness — or abandoning it to fulfill your duty as the future Queen.

→ unedited bcos i’m brave lazy. implied patriarchy. angst in future chapters. pure romance and fluff for now. royalty au. eventual smut. prince naoya !! i love him sm i could cry. this fic will break me, okay. naoya is close to canon but with my twist if that makes sense. drama in future chapters. oh and listen to this while reading <3

→ massive shoutout to my besties for always hyping me and helping me uwu, i present this token of prince naoya being an ideal husband okay cry cry i love him sm im crying. anyways pls enjoy bcos i poured my heart out to this and bcos i want more people in the naoya fucker club :>

one | next (to be posted)

Ever since the day your mother taught you how to read, you’ve had your nose buried in a book. Losing yourself in different worlds, swooning over fictional princes, and fantasizing for a love story ripped out of fairytale itself with such burning, passionate romance – you’d been through it all, dreamt of it all. And yet, you struggled to stop yourself from tugging at your dress.

The tight corset hadn’t even been the main focus of your worries, and neither was the heavy rivière resting on your collarbones.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” Beside you, your mother pursed her lips, fingers decorated with jewels stopping in their movements of fanning herself. The temperature hadn’t been particularly high inside the limousine that evening. You supposed it was the mere sight of you tugging and gulping audibly every now and then, gloved hands running over the hems of your collar.

You ducked your head down. “Sorry, Mother. I can’t help it.”

“Dear, your anxiety is written all over your face,” she sighed, turning your face to her as she cupped your cheeks. Smiling tenderly like a mother always did, your heart felt soothed even by the slightest bit. You wished she could keep holding you like this – like you were a fragile flower she was afraid of breaking; a fragile flower that needed more care handled than most. Tonight, however, you felt a hundred years older. Like you’d accidentally clicked on fast forward and got launched to the future. A future that seemed so unclear yet so...perfect. So right.

“How would the Prince fancy you if you’re sweating bullets like that? It’s not a good look for a marquess’ daughter.”

At the mention of the Crown Prince, your heart sank again. “My apologies, Mother. I’m just rather nervous. It’s the Crown Prince we’re talking about here.”

“He is quite the looker, isn’t he?” she giggled behind her fan, “Strong and handsome, as well.”

“My ladies. You are not fantasizing over the Crown Prince in my presence, are you?”

Crossing her leg over the other, your mother leaned forwards, elbows on her knees as she winked at your father. The marquess had his torso half twisted from the passenger seat, glaring playfully at your mother’s unabashed features. “It is of no seriousness, My Lord. I’m simply easing your daughter’s nerves.”

Your father sighed in worry. “What’s got you so worked up, child? You are beautiful. The Prince would be blind to not notice you.”

Each fibre in your body screamed in desperation for your father to be right. Tonight was not just any other night – the entire Kingdom, including noblewomen, foreign royals, and unwed daughters from honourable families had been invited to the Zen’in Castle for one purpose only: to find his Crown Prince a suitable wife, one that would be fit to be the next Queen as well. As the daughter of the marquess, you’d naturally received the invitation. It felt just like yesterday when the mail arrived and you’d cheered so much in joy the chickens went flying out of their coops, your horses galloping and whinnying at surprise, and now you here – minutes away from the palace where you were soon to be deemed worthy or unworthy to be beside His Highness.

With a shaky smile, you dug your nails into your thighs. “Well, we’ve only met once, Father. I doubt the Prince would remember me.”

“Just smile, darling. You will do great.”

To no one’s surprise, the Zen’in Castle brimmed with people and esteemed guests. Men and women danced with one another as muted chatters and chuckles blended in with the grand royal orchestra, everyone dressed to the nines and making you feel completely out of place.

The moment you’d been welcomed by the knights and led to the palace doors, your dress began to feel tighter than usual, your ribs clenching uncomfortably from the pressure. Your hands had not stopped trembling either, not even when you hid it behind your back and nodded at the people passing by. There were governor-generals, dukes, earls, professors and royal advisors and even families of the royal family’s inner circle of knights. Everyone looked like they belonged here. Chatting amongst one another over the finest of wines or discussing conspiracies on where the Kingdom of Zen’in would be in the next sixty years of the future King’s reign, no one here seemed to be out of place.

Everyone except you.

A warm hand was suddenly placed on the small of your back, making you gasp. Your mother’s smile was nothing short of warm as she held you close to her one last time, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You didn’t even realize how much you shook until she clasped her hands with yours. “Calm down, dear,” she reminded, “You’ll be on your own now. This is where we leave you since we’re not supposed to mingle with potential princesses.”

“Mother!” Your eyes widened in embarrassment. Looking around frantically, you bit your lip in fear someone must’ve heard.

Of course, while it would be no surprise most guests – if not all – hoped that their daughter would be the Crown Prince’s chosen fiancée, it still felt wrong to boldly assume such when you could barely keep up with the events of tonight.

However, your mother merely laughed. “I am proud of you, dear. Never forget that. It doesn’t matter whether you are chosen or not. We’re only here for formality and respect to the King and Queen’s demands.”

“You say that as if the Crown Prince really would not bother with me.”

“We didn’t mean that,” your father cut in, a flute of champagne already nested between his calloused fingers. Ever since you arrived, he’d been snatched away by fellow earls and barons, disappearing into the crowd for a ‘hearty conversation over one’s lands.’ You knew better than that, though. That statement always translated to which leader got to have more chances to wine and dine with the King, to which your family was ridiculously reminded of that you’d been stationed to the most faraway land where even hearing news from the royal papers was but a privilege.

“Just be yourself, alright? And enjoy the party. It’s about time you met with girls your own age and made some friends.”

“I – Father, wait!”

A slender young woman slithered to your side out of nowhere, her golden brown eyes following the silhouettes of your parents. It wasn’t long before they completely disappeared. Left alone with the stunning woman that was – for some reason – dressed in a plain black curve hugging dress too modest for tonight’s appropriateness, you took three steps away in caution. “You must be from way up North,” she noted, her head to the tipped to the side. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

God, was she beautiful. Long, thick eyelashes and short hair chopped in messy yet elegant curves, you struggled to hold her gaze. “Oh, yes, I come from the Terratian Borders. My family is stationed there under His Majesty’s orders.”

She hummed to herself. “The Terratian Borders are mostly forests and fields, no? The last time my family and I visited there, I came across the loveliest dandelions I’ve ever laid eyes on. Shame they died on the way back,” offering her hand – again, bare and empty with decorations yet still littered with faint scars and cuts – she beamed at you. “I’m Mai, by the way. Mai Zen’in.”

Zen’in?

Hands cupping your mouth, you bowed deep until your back ached. “Lady Mai!” you shut your eyes closed, unable to live with the shame. Mai Zen’in; one of the iconic twin pair from the extended Zen’in royal family, both a fashion icon and a legend for being a rumoured female knight. To have her in your presence was an honour. “My apologies for not recognizing you any sooner, Lady Mai!”

“Stand up, I’m not a royal,” she sniggered, “We’re just relatives of the actual monarch, but don’t let the family name fool you. The Crown Prince barely even acknowledges us being of the same blood.”

Albeit hesitant, you followed her gestures of making you stand up. You straightened your back and cleared your throat, fighting the urge to go haywire the moment his name was brought into the conversation. Not only would you be seeing Prince Naoya again in real life for the first time in years, but you’d also made acquaintances with his distant niece. However, his name was spoken with malice.

Frowning, you faced Lady Mai in all seriousness. “Prince Naoya? Why so?” Lady Mai looked at you like you’d grown two heads.

“He’s an ass, that’s why.”

“I-I don’t think he is,” you defended, “The Prince has been nothing but kind to me.”

“I didn’t know he was capable of kindness,” she muttered more so under her breath, low enough you were unsure whether you were supposed to hear it in the first place. Lady Mai then shook her head to herself before stealing a flute from a waiter passing by. Chucking it your way, her face turned dark and grim. “Take it as free advice: stay as far away from his as possible. The Crown Prince is nothing but good news.”

“Is it because he has lots of lovers?” you inquired with a small voice, “Uhm – well – It was an assumption. With a title and handsomeness like that, it would make sense everyone would want to be the Crown Prince’s lover.”

Lady Mai’s lip curled upwards. “Prince Naoya won’t bother with lovers. He is too occupied for that.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Heard from whom?”

“The Royal Declaration from His Majesty himself,” you said, “Was it not the purpose of this ball? To find worthy candidates to be the Crown Prince’s betrothed? His coronation is coming soon.”

“Right. I forgot today was technically a bridal market,” she scratched the edge of her brow, falling silent for a moment. Her eyes scanned the lively crowd for a brief moment – watching with you as everyone laughed and danced to their heart’s content – the grand final event of the routine personal dance with the Crown Prince himself slowly approaching to reality. “You are joining in the festivities, are you not? Later, when he arrives, he shall meet you.”

“I am obligated to as a noble bachelorette, though I doubt His Highness would even look my way. There are far richer noblewomen here and even daughters of duke that would be perfect as his wife. ”

“You may have a point for that,” she hummed to herself, unaware that her agreement to the Crown Prince not paying attention to you left a sting both in your ego and heart. Not that it lasted long, for Lady Mai was already tugged on the arm by another equally fiercely beautiful woman – her older twin, Maki Zen’in. Soon to be governon-general of the Kingdom.

Lady Mai smiled in apology. “I need to go now since I’m not a part of this event. But hey, if ever I come around to visit the Borders again, perhaps you could entertain me?”

“I would be honoured to, Lady Mai.”

“You are sweet and innocent,” it was her sister who spoke this time, glasses perched high on her nose that concealed the wariness of her gaze. “I hope the Crown Prince never gets to your routine.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s nothing; she was talking to herself. Maki does that a lot,” Lady Mai’s forced chuckles were barely heard from the music. “You enjoy the party now. Don’t drink too much lest you want to embarrass yourself in everyone’s eyes and be talk of the Kingdom. Prince Naoya would hate it if you took the attention away from him.”

“Oh, uhm...”

“It’s a joke, Lady Y/N. Relax.”

You bowed once more. “My apologies.”

“The dance is about to begin,” Maki tapped on your shoulder, making you look up right where her eyes zeroed in. And exactly in the middle of the grandiose hall, under the sparkling golden chandeliers where he made all the gold in the world look incomparable next to him, the Crown Prince stood in his fully glory. Blond hair with the ends stained of midnight gelled back to reveal his forehead, the Crown Prince’s beauty never failed to shine. Whether it be in the papers, in the tabloids, in the billboards that you passed on the way to the city, or from way back when you met him for the first time as a naive, innocent teen – Crown Prince Naoya came straight out of a magazine cover.

In the back of your head, you could hear either of the twins murmuring good luck. Maybe both of them had said it – you had no idea. All of your attention, all the sensibility and coherence of your state had been switched the next instant, as if your heart and soul was born for the sole purpose of being bewitched by your Crown Prince.

And as if feeling someone’s gaze on him, the Crown Prince’s eyes trailed over the crowd. Almost boredly, his sharp eyes bounced from one giggling woman to another, the ends of his lips smirking upwards for just the tiniest bit. It must’ve stroked his ego. Until his eyes connected with yours. The Crown Prince’s eyebrows knitted together. You had no idea how you looked in that moment, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. Because the Crown Prince was looking at you, and you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes along with your heart pulsing at the tip of your tongue.

“Let us begin,” his lips moved from the distance, “Play the music. I shall dance with my bride.”

The air shifted in a split second. Murmurs were thrown over the room, women and men alike turning pale. Even the orchestra was stunned from the Crown Prince’s entrance – and it hadn’t even been dramatic to his standards – yet the whole castle fell mum from just a few of his words. A few seconds later, the crowd recomposed itself, and the strings began to dance along with its bows.

You are pushed into the crowd. Nearly colliding into the arms of another, you quietly thank the masked man who was to be your first partner of the night.

All the men joining the dance floor dressed with the intention of making the Crown Prince shine. Prince Naoya stood out from the throng of white as per the colour code, his blood red uniform as both Prince with the  golden crest of the military leader pinned to his right breast. The other men meant to be filler partners until all the potential brides got to their designated three minutes with the Prince were all dressed in black, faces covered behind a plain black mask. None were allowed to talk. None were allowed to utter even a word, and so your partner pursed his lips in displeasure at your apology.

Whatever. You just had to wait a few more rounds before the song finished and transitioned into a new one; the song where you’d been informed would be your time alone with the Prince.

You’d been so lost in your head you barely breathed the entire dance. From partner to partner, you blanked. Your heart drummed so wildly in its cage it begged to come out, and strings of apologies were let out each time your masked partners grimaced for a brief second when their hands came in contact with your sweaty ones. Around you, all the lovely women smiled and danced graciously, mouths moving in unreadable conversations shared with the Crown Prince. Not once did you look at the six partners you’ve danced with. Not once did you worry about tripping on your own feet. Not once did you care that some of the masked men held you a little too roughly for your comfort. Your entire reason for existing in that moment was to witness the Crown Prince himself, mirroring his frown that got deeper and deeper with each woman retreating to the sea of people he’d rejected.

Not once did you even think about being one of them – the girls who’ve ducked their heads down as their parents comforted them over not being the chosen one, of bringing ‘dishonour’ to their families that the mighty Crown Prince had deemed them unworthy. Tears streamed down their faces until black ink followed afterwards, lips trembling from silent sobs.

Despite their broken prides – although there was that minority who simply sighed in relief after returning to their own families – no one would dare interrupt the Crown Prince’s dances.

All of these thoughts crossed your mind too late and at the exact time your masked partner pulled away from you, body half bent in a bow with his arm outstretched to the side. Following where he was gesturing at, your eyes met the Crown Prince’s tall and lean stature, a few blond fringes now fallen from his movements.

Even though a thin layer of sweat shone from his face, Prince Naoya remained ethereal.

And like a snake charmed by the musician’s seductive tone, your feet moved on its own. Fingers stretching until it met with the Crown Prince’s large and warm ones, you were now in front of him. With him. Holding him, touching him, meeting him eye for eye and realizing – gold. His eyes burned a deep shade of gold, elegantly rich and heartbreakingly stunning your heart ached.

Before you knew it, your hands began to tremble, feeling as if your body had been corded into a corset three sizes smaller. You could not breathe, and the Crown Prince took notice.

“You are stiff. Do I make you uncomfortable?” Good Saint. If only possible, you would’ve closed your eyes and basked in the deep warmth of his voice. It reverberated from deep within, breathed out with an air of natural authority and profound confidence it made your knees weak. As if sensing his effect on you (though for the wrong reasons, it seemed), Prince Naoya hummed to himself. “This routine shall last for a few minutes before I can let you go, I’m afraid.”

You instantly realized the implications of your silence. “N-not at all, Your Highness! I am honoured to be dancing with you.”

“There is no honour in a choreographed dance. Everyone will dance with me. It’s nothing special.”

Your heart fell. Prince Naoya not only sounded dejected, but detached as well. As if he found no pleasure or specialty in this event, at a time where he had every opportunity to meet his lover, and that this ball was merely a task to be checked off in his already long list of responsibilities. It wasn’t disappointment, per se, but rather melancholy that left a bitter taste in your mouth. Not because Prince Naoya held little to no regards for something you treasured, but because he sounded terribly alone. Like he was simply waiting for it to end out of discomfort.

“It’s special to me, Your Highness,” you blurted out faster than you could stop yourself. For a moment, you feared you may have offended him, but the Crown Prince only laughs.

And when he did – saint, when he laughed – his eyes crinkled into half moons, pearly whites flashing against the bright lights and his whole chest shook with amusement.

You’d never seen him smile this way before.

Prince Naoya’s laughter didn’t cease. Around you, your gut instincts told that people were now beginning to look; the Crown Prince’s deep rumbles of laughter sounded exquisitely like music as well, after all. “ Is it special to you because you are now dancing and within the Crown Prince’s proximity? As much as I presume how exhilarating it might be for those who mostly see me in the papers and in the tabloids, I assure you, dancing with your Prince is not an honour. Especially when you are all sent the invitations based on your status and not your worthy traits.”

“It’s special to me,” you mumbled, growing shy all of a sudden when the Crown Prince nodded at you to continue. “Because...because it reminds me of the first time we met.”

The Crown Prince hummed in amusement.

“We have met before?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I’m from the Terratian Borders – my father is a loyal servant of His Majesty. You visited the borders when you were eighteen and I was sixteen. Do you remember it, Your Highness? You stormed in my private library.”

Indeed, the young barely-out-of-his-teens Crown Prince barged into your home’s library years ago. You were not previously informed he and his parents would be visiting since they arrived wordlessly, so you were stuck in your chambers as usual, killing time if not for sleeping and tending to the animals. Perched on a ladder, you attempted to reach for a book on the upper shelf when your foot slipped beneath you. At the age of sixteen, you were dramatic enough to say your life flashed before your eyes. You would’ve screamed then had strong arms not appeared out of nowhere, the Crown Prince staring at you with wide, golden eyes as they were now, his breathy rasped as he asked, are you okay, my lady?

The mere recollection of that fateful memory had your cheeks warming in delight. “You were so charming and heroic back then. Even when I had no idea you were a royal, I would have still believed you to be princely,” you said rather absentmindedly, blinking once then twice at your words. “Of course, it’s understandable if you do not remember, Your Highness!”

“My apologies. I do not remember, though Terratia is a wonderful place. Such a shame I was not informed beforehand they had a lovely daughter.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you cheered back, cheeks and jaw beginning to ache from how wide you were smiling. But could anyone blame you? You felt absolutely silly that you were a breath away from passing out minutes ago, and now here you were, dancing with the Crown Prince and sharing memories with him like it was a daily occurrence. The words it’s true love when you feel at peace with them suddenly rang back at your head from that latest romance novel you read, and you turned away, hoping the Crown Prince would not read your thoughts to your face. However, Prince Naoya’s lips pursed into a thin line, all traces of humour now disappeared. “I’m sorry – should I not have laughed?”

“No, I don’t mind,” he mused with his jaw locked tight, “I just haven’t seen anyone react that way before.”

“Like what?”

“Like my words meant the entire universe to them. I may dare even say you look terribly in love, though I cannot blame you on that one, can I?”

Prince Naoya shook his head the minute the words left his mouth. Forcing himself to believe it couldn’t be real, perhaps, you truly did not know anymore. Your only plan for tonight was to see the Crown Prince and get to live out your dream of seeing him once more even for just a brief moment before you travelled back home while he married another, and yet – “Your Highness, I’m in love with you. I have always been since the day we met.”

You could no longer stop the words. The voice at the back of your head begged you to shut up and not cause a scene, that your time had passed up and people were staring, yet you remained in his arms no matter how much you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole.

“Please do not misunderstand me, Your Highness. I did not come here to attempt to steal your heart and be your wife, though I will admit I have dreamt of meeting you again for so many moons. I...I only want to tell you this. That I love you and even though it was a brief moment, I think the love I’ve always read about felt real and possible for the first time in my life,” chuckling nervously, you gather to courage to face him, adoration shining for the Crown Prince stood shock still before you, however stunned he may be. “I love you, Your Highness. I love you. And to whoever lucky woman you choose to be your betrothed, I hope she takes care of you and showers you with all the affection you are deserving of. You would make a great King. So God help his Crown Prince, and may you lead us all into a better world.”

Prince Naoya did not budge a muscle. His eyes remained hard on yours, breath warm as his nostrils fumed. With each passing second that he did not speak, you grew restless and tugged your arm away from his hold with a disgraceful smile.

You’d truly crossed your line. The repercussions to be faced for this impoliteness would destroy your family’s honour. You had to leave. “Your Highness? The song has changed. It’s time to let go—”

The Crown Prince inched close enough until his hair tickled your cheeks, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he pulled you close, close enough that your lower bodies touched. Skin ablaze with heat, you dared not move an inch. “Do you mean it?” he demanded lowly, his fingers ghosting over your wrist to hold you in place. “Do you truly love me? Not for what I have, not for who I was born to be, but me as a person itself?”

Closing your eyes to shudder in a deep breath, you exhaled. “Of course, Your Highness. Even if you were not born as a Prince, I’m sure I would’ve still loved you in a different universe.”

“But I do not know you.”

“We don’t have to know each other, Your Highness, and we never will. Once you let me go, I’ll return to the shadows where I belong, and I will continue supporting you until the day of your coronation.”

“And if I refuse to let you go?” he clicked his tongue, “What will you do then?”

The Crown Prince’s spicy perfume must be an aphrodisiac or hypnotizer of sorts. Everything he did messed with your mind that it was too late – the music had stopped and people were no longer drinking or chatting. Everyone’s eyes were on you and the Crown Prince. You could only imagine how controversial this position must be; with his lips trailing dangerously close to that sensitive spot in your neck where you nearly moaned. You really needed to leave.

“P-people are looking, Your Highness. You do not want this affair with someone you won’t choose—”

“Who said I won’t choose you?” Finally, he pulled away. But Prince Naoya never once tore his gaze away from yours, nor did he allow you to look at anyone but him as he caresses your jaw so light and feathery you wondered if he was truly there.“Who said I haven’t laid my eyes on you the moment you walked in here? This ball is for naught because of you, Lady Y/N. I’ve already made my choice, and you helped me confirm it as soon as you danced with me.”

“Your Highness...”

“Look at me,” he ordered, your eyes flitting from his pinkish lips to his sharp nose and then to his fox-like gaze. Only this time, Prince Naoya was no longer harsh. “Don’t be scared.”

“But they’re looking.”

“You are with me, of course they’ll look,” he teased, “They wish to be you right now. But ignore them and dance one more time with me.”

It wasn’t like you had a choice, but did it matter? One nod from him was all it took before the orchestra fumbled back to their spots and a new song played, Ode of Moonlight Lovers, and the Crown Prince was guiding you back to where he had originally danced with you.

From the corners of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of your parents with their mouths gaped open; your father looking like he was on the verge of passing out. However, you felt nothing but joy, nothing but the adrenaline pumping through your veins as he danced and twirled you in his arms. When the music stopped and you were both panting for air with silly smiles on your face, it dawned on you that you were with the Prince. No, rather, it was only you and the Prince alone. Even in the sea of people whose faces began to blur, he prevailed crystal clear.

You could recognize him anywhere, find him everywhere.

Prince Naoya stepped impossibly closer until your chests touched, hearts beating as one. Cupping your jaw, he was near enough that he swallowed all your shaky breaths with a small, teasing smile like you both shared a secret the entire world could not know.

“Do I still make you nervous?”

Laughing, you nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“It’s beloved now,” he corrected, face inching closer and closer to a point you could count the number of his lower lashes. “And what do lovers do to seal their union?”

“M-Marriage?”

“Close, but this is much better.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would have a love story ripped out straight from a fairytale, you would’ve laughed at their faces. You were no Cinderella, nor were you a goddess of beauty that could’ve possibly caught the Crown Prince’s eye. Yet, his soft lips were on yours, kissing you with as much passion you could only dream of that you cried.

Strong hands guiding the back of your waist, Prince Naoya dipped you lower to the ground – the grand of finish of his dance. He had chosen his bride.

The crowd cheered and rejoiced all around you, making you smile into the kiss. Fisting his collar to bring him closer to yours, your mouth burst into metaphorical fireworks as soon as his tongue mingled with yours for an experimental taste. He was bitter yet sweet; expensive wine resting on his tongue, yet a delicate vanilla sat heavily on his soft lips that molded with yours. It was a taste you could spend forever being addicted on. And you were crying, crying so much your chest ached and the Prince’s cheeks grew damp from yours. You’d dreamt of this for so long, too long now.

Prince Naoya slowly pulled you away, his thumb wiping the tears away from the pads of your cheeks with tenderness in his touch. However, the Prince was not satisfied. The crowd whooped as he leant down to kiss your forehead. “You are mine now, my princess.”

Looping his hands with yours, the Crown Prince led you out of the castle. The crowd parted naturally to make way for the new couple, and you were left staring at his broad back and the tuft of blond hair where you’d soon find out how soft it would be. Sending one last glance to your crying parents, you waved goodbye. You had no idea where the Crown Prince would take you but you were already bunching your dress up, heart completely filled with trust you did not question it. What mattered tonight and for the rest of your life was that it felt right. That it was him – your beloved Prince Naoya Zen’in and soon to be husband – that you’d follow through the moon and back.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Since requests are back on-

Request for an x reader for the shared control! pokebos! AU where Player is the reader, and on them all first meeting the player?, and since you had mentioned it at some point maybe in the end Player and the others try helping cheer up a "congratulations! *starts crying*" Spamton?

Sorry if it's confusing I'm very bad at typing-

- Salt Anon

"Who is thou friende, worm?"

"Huh..?" Kris blinked in bewilderment as they glanced at you, seeing you sitting on the couch while scrolling through your phone. They could see your SOUL pulsating with a red glow, although it did little to illuminate your face as you looked up, equally confused.

"What's wrong, Kris?"

They had absolutely no idea what to do.

After all this time...only now you can be seen by others?

But as Rouxls repeated himself, you were still lost. You weren't sure if your vessel finally became corporeal, so you looked around, assuming he meant somebody else.

"I'm talkingeth to thou with thine glowing heart! You two seem fairly acquainted with one anotherth."

Glancing back at the duke of puzzles, you saw him staring directly at you with an inquiring gaze. But before you could respond, you noticed Spamton enter the room, with Lancer and Starwalker in tow. They must've heard the commotion.

"WHY THE [Clear Silence For $59.99??] IT WOULD HELP TO KNOW A [Potential Customer's] NAME!"

"....y-you all can see me?" You finally stammered.

"Well, duh!" Lancer bounced over to you. "You're not invisible! And what's with this red glowy heart? Looks familiar." He attempted to poke your SOUL, but you instinctively grabbed his wrist to protect it-

Wait..you were able to touch him, too??

'What the hell is going on?'

"Your refusal to......answer any of our questions is pissing me off." Starwalker grumbled.

"Okay, okay. I give. Since you all can see me...hi. I'm [y/n]." You stood up and looked at Kris. "Rouxls is right about me being acquainted with Kris. But it's...very, very complicated, and it might change the way you all look at them if I told you guys what exactly I am."

"Complicated, complicated??? La-haha..the game's only as complicated as you make it, friend!"

Now Jevil finally showed up, curious as to what was happening. He tilted his head as he gazed at you, tail swaying. "Go on. In this group of trust there are no secrets to keep, keep!"

You sighed, weighing the pros and cons of telling them the truth. There was one person especially who you were hesitant to tell. But as Jevil said, you shouldn't keep anymore secrets.

"Fine. So..you all know how Jevil sees the world as a game? Well, I'm the player. The true player."

You went on to explain your role in Kris' actions, how you two have been this way for as long as you existed, and how lately you've allowed Kris more autonomy, helping them survive the Dark World only when necessary.

And it was through your actions that Starwalker, Jevil, and Spamton were able to come home with them.

Even they chimed in, admitting you've helped them a lot and they finally came to accept your existence. That, combined with the sheer force of Determination, allowed you to appear to everyone.

Once you were done, you two assessed the Darkners' reactions. They were mixtures of surprise, confusion, and understanding. Starwalker seemed indifferent and grumpy as always.

"I...dunno what any of that means but welcome new person!!" Lancer grinned as he hugged you. "Seriously, though, I still um..don't understand exactly what you are." He mumbled.

"Basically, I'm a demon possessing Kris but I'm nice enough to let them do stuff on their own." You chuckled and patted his head.

"Ohhhhhhh that makes sense!"

"...hehe..gehahahaha!!!" The duke of puzzles chuckled, which turned into uproarious laughter that made you direct your attention to him. "So thou art the spirit who guided thine little worm on a stringeth to best me at mine own strategic games of puzzles and houses?"

"Uh..yeah?" You were surprised he wasn't having an aneurysm over the fact Kris didn't actually solve his puzzles.

He just ginned and clapped his hands together. "YES!! Then I hath retained glorious victory over the three heroes, still!!"

Kris faceplamed at the fact you unknowingly boosted his ego tenfold. But hey, at least him and everyone else took the news well. Jevil was pleased to find someone as likeminded as him.

Yet Spamton...stayed unusually silent as he approached you, looking at the floor like he was shutdown.

"Spamton?" Setting Lancer on the couch, you gazed at the spam bot in confusion, noting his smile was gone. Worry formed a knot in your stomach. "I know this is a lot to take in but-"

"OH NO, NO, NO!! I UNDERSTAND." He suddenly perked up as if nothing was wrong. "YOU AND KRIS MADE A SWEET, SWEET [Two-For-One Deal] IS ALL! TO THINK THEM AND I WERE ONCE IN THE SAME [Boat Insurance] IS...WELL---unfortunate..how wrong was I to think we were alike..why can't I be as free?"

The Darkners were confused by his last statement, with his lenses turning to gray static as he spoke quietly. Yet they were back to colors as he looked up at you, smiling forcefully.

"A-APOLOGIES [New Client]. WELCOME TO THE CLUB [Book Reservations Now!] I LOOK FORWARD TO WORKING WITH YOU. HEUEUEUEHEHE." He giggled like a madman, forcefully shaking your hand before he ran off to his room.

When a door slammed shut, Starwalker finally spoke. "His strange behavior is...pissing me off."

"It twas quiteh strange, indeed.." Rouxls hummed in concern. "Did anyone else seeith his oculars turn monochrometh?"

"Alas..poor Spamton." Jevil shook his head, tapping his foot. "He wants what Kris has. But it's out of his reach, reach."

"And that is...?" Lancer tilted his head like a lost puppy.

"To be equal with his puppeteer. As Kris is to [y/n]. But he knows not who pulls at his own strings and makes them ring, ring...very troubling, indeed."

As the Darkners talked, you felt a tug at your SOUL and looked at Kris, seeing their growing discomfort. You placed a hand on their shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll talk to him in a little while. He might be too erratic to speak with now, but I'll handle it."

They were a bit surprised. Considering Spamton was hell-bent on taking your SOUL, they were concerned over you being left alone with him.

"If..you're alright with it. That's fine." A small smile appeared on their face.

...........

Sometime later, you knocked on Spamton's door. He's been in his room for hours and it was dinner time. "Spam? Rouxls made some uh..rouxlsroux for dinner. It's actually spaghetti but don't tell him I said that......hello?"

There was total silence. A concerning amount of silence.

With furrowed eyebrows, you slowly turned the knob, realizing the door wasn't locked. "I'm coming in okay?"

No response.

You invited yourself inside and looked around. His room wasn't totally trashed like you expected..but then again he had a tough time grasping that he could have his own room and not have to sleep in the garbage or in a laundry basket.

The other Darkners yelled at him not to since he was mixing up their clothes, so he stopped.

Then you spotted the dealmaker lying in the corner of the room. It was easy to tell the armor apart from Spamton's actual glasses, so you knew it was him. But you weren't sure why he'd shapeshift when Kris wasn't going anywhere.

"C'mon, buddy. We're not in the Dark World any-" As you knelt down to pick it up however, it rapidly changed back to a disheveled-looking salesman, still curled up in the corner.

The moment you saw the tears marring his face, instinct made you reach out to hug him, your SOUL disappearing into your chest.

Of course..you knew that he couldn't have brushed off the realization that Kris had more freedom than him. He just put on that whole façade and acted like it didn't bother him too much.

But you saw through it. You've seen through his acts:

Back in his dumpster shop where his pain and suffering were only visible for a few moments.

In the basement where he relentlessly prayed and shouted to the heavens above as he fought you as NEO.

Now here? He was hiding away from you.

You were afraid of this exact scenario happening. It made you wonder if you were wrong to tell him the truth..or if it seemed like you were rubbing the notion that "my puppet and I are equals" in his face.

You felt guilty and were surprised he didn't immediately shove you away.

"Spamton..it's alright if you're upset with me telling the truth. I get it. And I'm sorry. You have every right to be angry and Kris and I."

"N-NO..I'M...NOT ANGRY." He sniffled, hugging you back. "I KNOW LIFE ISN'T FAIR. IT'S NOT ALWAYS [Satisfaction 100% Guaranteed]. BUT IT'S SO DARK STILL..AND TO SEE THAT [Little Sponge] LIVING MY DREAM HURTS LIKE [Ow..Ouchie]..I wanna see the light too. Help me.."

"I did try to help you." Once again, there was a tug on your SOUL, but not from Kris this time. "I told Kris to go through with your deal and cut those wires, but.." You paused, resting your chin on top of his head so he can curl further into you.

"It was all for nothing, wasn't it?" He sobbed into your sweater.

"No, no it wasn't. I mean..you're here with us, right? We took you outta there and got you back on your feet. You're more free than you were before."

".........."

"Whatever Dark Worlds we travel to next, I promise we'll find out who did this to you, Spamton." You vowed, feeling his hold on you tighten. "We'll stand up and face them together. You can help Kris look fashionable with that dealmaker of yours too, if you want." You lightly joked, which helped him calm down.

"Y-YOU'RE SO GOOD TO THAT KID...THANK YOU."

Eventually, he did settle down enough to pull away from you. A genuine smile appeared on his face. "SORRY FOR THE [Unprofessionalism]. [First-Impressions for Interviews] MATTER AND I FEEL SILLY NOW."

"Don't worry about it." You ruffled his hair. "I'm just glad we could talk about it."

"ALSO I WOULD UM..LIKE TO [Email You An Apology] ABOUT TRYING TO STEAL YOUR [Heart-Shaped Object]." He awkwardly muttered, hands bunched together. "EVEN AFTER ALL I DID...YOU STILL WANNA LEND A HAND TO DEAR OL' SPAMTON.."

"Apology received and accepted." You smiled softly. "You were a pain in my ass, but I'm over it. So it's all good."

Spamton gazed at your SOUL, barely able to make out its outline. "YOU'RE NEITHER DARK neR NOR LIGHT neR. BUT YOU SURE ARE THE ANSWER TO MY PRAYER [Hotline]."

"I'm flattered. Now c'mon, Rouxls made us dinner and everyone wants to make sure you're alright."

Nodding, he got up and fixed his hair as you stood up too. Then you headed out of his room, catching a whiff of spaghetti and roux from the kitchen.

But the moment you two entered, Lancer ran over and nearly tackle-hugged Spamton to the floor. "Uncle Spams!! You're alright!"

"WHAT THE....! YES I AM [Little Rubber Basketball]." He noticed the others at the table looking on with smiles. Jevil, Starwalker--who smiled with his eyes--and Kris were glad to see things worked out.

"Now cometh here, you two." Rouxls huffed. "Mine specialty rouxlsroux shan't eat itself!"

You joined them at the table, sitting next to Spamton as you all chatted and dined like a family.

An odd family of magical creatures at that, but one you were happy to officially be a part of.

[corkisms]

Dude I am super excited to read about Eldritch Duke and Eldritch Bain’s backstory!!

im soo mad i had such a comprehensive answer to this post and tumblr ATE IT so now i gotta rewrite the whole thing from memory. hell on earth :[

alright i CANNOT take credit for eldritch bain thats @des-paa-cee-toeee BABYY!!! eldritch duke came about on a whim before i knew abt despaa’s take on eldritch bain but it was soooo fun learning abt this bain and throwing ideas at the wall (discord dms) to see what stuck (exploded in the microwave). i cant speak to bain's origins bc im still learning them myself but ive got some eldritch duke facts down. readmore placed below to contain the brainspill ^_^ (and it really is one hell of a brainspill like it got way longer than i intended so sorry in advance😭)

right so dukes a university student in the late 60s/early 70s(?)

hes taking part in an archaeology project with one of his classmates in a forest near his uni (studying bone fragments, arrowheads, just collecting random samples) and keeping audio logs of the whole project

his classmate strays too far and messes around in a bunch of forestbeings' turf

the beings retaliate by possessing/driving the classmate mad

classmate offs duke via rock crimes (fly high babe) and duke gets to spend some time getting acquainted with the spirits in the trees

one of the forestbeings decides that that was kinda fucked up in hindsight and takes pity on duke, searing life and consciousness back into his broken body and resurrecting him from the mud as a nothuman trapped in a mostly mortal vessel (you work with what ya got)

this process might take a while but idk if itll make up the 20 yr gap in his lifespan yet (give that hes 20ish in the 70s and shows up in pd2 in 2017 as a 50 yr old and not a 70 yr old)

i just think hes neat!

tbh idk how i actually feel abt writing this duke au given that i think im also writing some other stuff rn but i looove gnawing on it when im spaced out during class its like my screensaver. i actually started a little smthg as a sort of taste-test for this au where its a police report on the case of duke's initial disappearance in the 70s, documenting the weird facts from an in-universe after-the-fact pov (i am such a sucker for dramatic irony its not funny) and working through the story in the form of aforementioned audio logs. pasting the scraps below

~

Friends initially report 20-year-old August Lindenhurst missing on August 18th, 1968.

Over summer break, Lindenhurst had been taking part in a month-long personal project proposed by 19-year-old Gillian 'Gill' Dorsey, both students at Dennington University. Classmates became concerned when the project's allotted time period ended and Lindenhurst had still not returned to campus. He and Dorsey were last seen entering the forest behind the main building (see map in addendum 2A) with bags one month prior. Investigators organized search teams, which found their equipment still intact in a makeshift bell tent approximately 1.8 miles from campus, and CSI later noted that the project seemed largely archaeological in nature. Around the same time the tent was discovered, a welfare check conducted on Dorsey's dorm discovered her partially decomposed body still in bed (Dorsey case filed separately, though it shares many unusual circumstances with this one).

CSI recovered a collection of microtapes from the tent in the forest, dated throughout the month as audio logs leading up to Lindenhurst's disappearance. Detective Greene was able to transcribe a majority of the logs’ content despite questionable integrity following recent storms. Following analysis of the tapes, the Lindenhurst case was changed from missing persons to homicide. Transcripts deemed relevant to the case are attached below (transcripts for the rest of the tapes available in addendum 2F).

~

and then the transcript of the first tape starts! from there the rest of the story plays out over multiple tapes as duke n his classmate (using gill dorsey as a placeholder name for no reason in particular) pick through tiny buried oddities over the course of about a month. all the while we see signs that theres Something In These Woods thrown in (discussing strange dreams in passing, unidentified voices heard on tape, odd changes in behavior seen in casual conversation, etc) leading up to the discovery of The Final Tape later on in the case, recorded on the day the project was supposed to end 

~

The original recorder was recovered in a clearing approx. 600 feet from the tent. Clear signs of a fight present in surroundings (see addendum 3A-3G). Blood at the scene matched with Lindenhurst. The recorder still contained the most recent (presumably final) microtape inside. Det. Greene reassigned for transcription.

~

and then we get into the nitty gritty of the day of the attack. the report basically concludes with “well that was fucked up” given that lindenhurst’s killer classmate is also dead under mysterious circumstances (found in bed with their mouth and lungs all full of dirt, more thoughts on that but this post is more than long enough rn) so theres kinda. no one to prosecute. the story itself ends with the whole case file being completely wiped by bain, revealing that we were just reading the report along with him the entire time as part of a background check on duke. hes troubled by the implications to say the least, like sorry man you found more than you bargained for in this funky crime grandpa!! the whole ‘coming back nothuman’ thing isnt super covered in this version of the story bc it is still just a police report and obvs cant have ALL the details but that does still happen

thoughts n suggestions n corrections welcome i love having thoughts and making words i love it to bloody pieces. i love kneading ideas in my brain like dough. also ty for reading this far mwah 😭 😭 😭

[imagineyourworld-old]

The Duchess and the Captain (Part Two)

Rex x Fem!Duchess!Reader

Summary: You get to know your husband, Duke Palpatine, and quickly realize what you will be missing in your marriage. Can Captain Rex make you feel better?

Warnings: Mentions of smut (maybe slight smut, I don’t really know, sex is not forced on the reader but expected of her and therefore might be triggering to some, but no detailed descriptions) 

Previous Part, Masterlist

-------

The next few days passed you by in a heartbeat. You spend most of your time getting acquainted with your new home, which wasn’t as easy as it sounded. In addition to the main house there was the orangerie, a small tea parlor in the park and two different gardens just for afternoon strolls. And of course the stables, houses for servants, barracks for the guards and so many other building you didn’t even try to remember.

“You really are lucky”, your mother sighed with a content smile.

The two of you were strolling through the rose garden behind the house, the smaller of the two gardens. It was beautiful, everything was well kept and every flower had its place, but every time you were here you felt out of place. Confined to your life, trapped like the birds that Padmé had told you your husband insisted to keep locked in cages in the garden.

“I will be sad to leave you, but I really do need to get back to your father and brother. Now that you’re happily married it’s Edward’s turn and finding him a wife will be a lot more challenging than finding you a husband, you know how stubborn he can be.”

Though you tried you couldn’t really listen to your mother. All she talked about was how lucky you were to be married to the Duke, how happy she was for you and how excited you must be to see your husband again tomorrow.

You let your gaze sweep through the garden until it halted at General Skywalker. The General had been following whenever you set foot outside the house, and even inside he was never far. The first time you met he had told you that those were your husband’s wishes, that he was only there to keep you safe, but part of you feared he might be reporting your every move back to the Duke. Even the smile the General send you could not easy your suspicions.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Finally your mother’s word rang through to you.

“I’m sorry. I’m just... lost in my thoughts...”

Your mother put a reassuring hand on your arm. You leaned into the familiar touch, a small piece of home in this strange new place.

“Are you thinking of your husband? Do you miss him very much?”

Sometimes you were sure your mother had to be joking. She must realize that you didn’t love, didn’t even like, Palpatine. And it wasn’t just the age difference, which in itself made every interaction with him awkward, he was just so cold. It was obvious he cared as little for you as you did for him and that might have been what bothered you most. You had been more or less forced to marry him, for his money, his title and because no one else had asked to marry you, but he could have had anyone. Half the girls in the country would have married him in an instant, so why did he choose someone he didn’t have any feelings for? Why did he waste his one chance at happiness and propose to you?

“I... I was just thinking that our marriage might not be as it should. We’re nothing like you and father”, you finally said, hoping this would both voice your concerns and not be too obvious about them. But your mother just laughed.

“Darling, that is normal. Relationships take time and work, your father and I didn’t instantly fall in love, but when you’re raising a family together and spending your lives together love will come. And you are so easy to love, it will be alright.”

You should have known your mother would not understand your concerns, she had never shared your dreams of marrying for love, of being swept off your feet in a fairytale like romance. Before you could pretend to agree with her, however, you were interrupted.

Obi-Wan came to a halt before you. He inclined his head in a small bow before addressing you and your mother.

“Your Grace, my lady, the Duke has returned and wishes to see you.”

At first you thought, though you knew it was wishful thinking, that he was talking about another Duke. Maybe one of your husband’s friends had come to visit and wanted to meet you for the first time. But you knew you would have had to face Palpatine, even if he was a day early.

“Thank you, Kenobi. Thought I would like to change before greeting my husband. If you would be so kind as to send Padmé up to my room.

The butler nodded.

“Certainly, my lady.”

-------

-------

Half an hour later you were sitting in the drawing room with your husband.

“I take it the house is to your liking”, he said.

Those were the first words either of you had spoken since your “Good afternoon” ten minutes earlier.

You sat your cup down on the saucer and smiled at him. A smile you hoped seemed happy and sincere.

“Very much, thank you.”

Silence took hold of you again. You refrained from playing with your spoon or the hem of your dress, two of your nervous habits your mother had told you a thousand times to drop.

You looked around the beautiful room. The curtains were moving ever so slightly in the wind that came through the open windows, one of your husband’s ancestors was staring at you from the huge portray above the fire place, his eyes seemed to follow your every move.

“I will only be here one night. Urgent business calls me away my estate in Naboo tomorrow, technically I should not even be spending the night and go there right away, but I suppose we should get to work.”

You turned away from the picture to look at the Duke. He was staring at you with an unreadable expression in his cold eyes, so cold and calculating, they almost made you shiver.

“I’m not sure I understand”, you said, hating how weak and uncertain you sounded. “What ‘work’ are you referring to?”

For a moment your husband’s masked moved as he looked at you in shock. You hated how he could make you feel dumb and inferior without saying a single word, but you knew it was not your place to say anything about that.

“I am of course talking about producing an heir.”

Now you couldn’t stop the shiver. You knew you had to give your husband an heir, multiple if possible, but part of you had hoped he would forget all about that part of your marriage after your wedding night. But you knew your duty and you had heard more than enough stories about women who refused their husbands, or even had lovers, and the terrible things that happened to them and no matter how much you didn’t want to, you would rather get it over with than suffer the same fate.

“Yes, I... of course. I am looking forward to it.”

Another cold glance from Palpatine and the very forced smile fell from your lips.

“It is not for you to look forward to or to enjoy, it’s is your duty.”

All you managed to do was nod. What else were you supposed to do? Where you supposed to answer anything?

Palpatine seemed content with your reaction though. He placed his tea on the small table between you and got up.

“One more thing”, he said as he reached the door. “I will be taking General Skywalker with me from now on, there were some... disputes the last couple of days and I will be needing more protection. Captain Rex will be your personal guard from now on.”

Without so much as a goodbye he left the drawing room and closed the door behind him.

With a loud sigh you leaned back on the couch, ignoring where your corset dug into your ribs uncomfortably. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths.

“It’s just one night, he’ll be gone again tomorrow”, you whispered, knowing that it might just be one night this time, but that your husband would always come back for more and there was nothing you could to to stop him.

“My lady, are you alright?”

You hadn’t heard anyone entering the room, but even without looking you recognized the familiar voice. Though the words were professional, the tone made it clear that Rex wasn’t just asking because it was expected of him, he really cared, at least to some degree. 

You opened your eyes to find his own focused on your face, an uncertain look in them, as if he wanted to step closer but didn’t dare to. 

“No”, you whispered. 

Abruptly you sat up straight again. Panic flooded through your veins. You were supposed to say “I’m fine”, not tell anyone, especially a guard, a servant, that you were not alright.  

“Is there something I can do?” 

Now the Captain really did take a step towards you. He wasn’t close exactly, definitely not as close has he had been that night in the kitchen, but you could have sworn you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes and smell a mixture of leather, horses and something you could only describe as sunshine. 

You shook your head. There was nothing he, or anyone, could do. You had gotten yourself into this situation, and not just the having to sleep with the Duke part, but the whole entire marriage. Though it had been expected of you, you could have declined his offer. Your mother would have been disappointed, your father mad, but they would have come to accept your choice. 

After taking another deep breath you decided it was time to get up. But for some reason even something as simple as standing seemed like an impossible deed right now. The Captain instantly noticed your struggle. He stepped even closer, close enough for you to take his hand when he offered it to help you up. 

His skin was rough, making it obvious you were holding the hand of a guard, someone who saddled horses and shot guns all day, but that roughness felt realer than any of the soft fabrics you had touched all your life. 

You knew you should let go the moment you were on your feet, you knew what this would look like should anyone walk in on you, but your thumb seemed to have a mind of its own when it started softly stroking the Captain’s hand. 

He let out a sound that was something between a sigh and a growl while tensing and relaxing within a single second. At first you feared you had overstepped a boundary, a personal that is, because this was without question overstepping any professional boundaries. Your eyes had been focused on your hands, but you slowly lifted them to meet his gaze. The Captain’s eyes were darker than they had been just moments before, but there was an warmth in them you had not seen before. 

“You know”, you whispered in a soft voice as not to interrupt the moment. “I feel better already.” 

And you really did. The guard’s touch and the warmth in his eyes made you feel more comfortable, more relaxed, than you had been for days. 

He opened his mouth, closed it again and then cleared his throat. His voice was deeper than it had been moments before and it made your body tense in unfamiliar places. 

“I’m glad.” 

It seemed as if he wanted to add something when the door burst open. 

“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Skywalker needs your help, he lost something and keeps mumbling about how you’re his only hope”, the intruder, another guard you recognized as Rex’s brother Fives, exclaimed. 

You hadn’t noticed the Captain had let go of your hand until he took a step back. His cheeks were slightly darker than they had been before, but his expression hasn’t changed. 

It was only then, when the blonde moved away from you, that his brother realized you were even in the room. He shot the Captain a look you could not read, no matter how much you wanted to, before bowing slightly. 

“Your Grace, I did not see you there.” 

A soft laugh found its way out of you. You couldn’t help but instantly like Fives. He was more relaxed than his brother, though they shared a light in their eyes that told you how much alike they could be. 

“It’s alright, Fives.” 

The guard’s eyes widened in shock. 

“You know my name?” 

“Your brother told you a bit about you, about your other brothers as well. I myself am very close to my older brother Edward, so... Sorry, I... I should probably stop talking.” 

The times your mother had told you not to discuss family with anyone, especially servants, came to your mind and after already breaking protocol with the Captain earlier you though it best to be quiet. 

Fives didn’t seem to notice your awkwardness as his eyes moved between you and his brother, which you, on the other hand, didn’t notice. 

“We should get to General Skywalker then”, the Captain finally said, interrupting the silence. 

With a nod, a “Good day, my lady” and a bow Fives left the room. His brother followed, but turned around to face you once more. 

“I hope you’ll feel better soon”, he said with a smile. A smile that told you that he didn’t regret what had happened between the two of you earlier. 

You knew you shouldn’t, but you felt the same and tried to show it in your next words. 

“Thank you, Rex.” 

This time he heard you calling him by his name, the most beautiful sound he had heard in his life. But instead of closing the distance between you again, to touch your hand one last time before returning to his duty, he just bowed and hurried to leave the room. 

-------

That evening dinner was a quiet affair. Your husband barely talked, even though your mother tried her best to strike up a conversation. But the hardest part came after the meal when you had to say goodbye to your mother, who would be leaving early the next morning. 

“I will miss you so much, my darling. But you will be just fine, I know it. You’re going to be a great duchess and a good wife.” 

Your mother had tears streaming down her cheeks as she said this. She had the same proud look in her eyes as she did when you had accepted the Duke’s proposal and when you had exchanged your vows, after all, having your daughter marry a rich duke was every mother’s dream and her’s had come true. 

You told her that you would miss her as well, to give your love to your father and brother and that you would write as much as possible and then, after tearful hugs and kisses, your mother was gone and you were all alone. 

With tears still drying on your cheeks you sat at your vanity table and stared at your reflection. In the few days since the wedding you seemed to have aged a lot, not in the positive maturing sense either, you simply looked exhausted. Dark bags were under your red eyes, the colour has left your skin and even your hair seemed lifeless. 

“Pinching your cheeks should help”, Padmé offered as she stepped into the room. 

You turned around to face your maid. She was holding a candle in one hand and a piece of cloth in the other. Before stepping closer to you she laid the cloth down on the foot of the bed. 

“I have brought you a nightdress your husband wants you to wear.” 

The look in her eyes spoke of sympathy and pity and even though you knew she was being kind you resented her for it. If Padmé ever got married she could choose her husband, choose someone she loved and who loved her and not marry a cold old man because it was expected of her. 

“Is there”, Padmé started but hesitated to continue. Only when you looked at her and nodded did she speak again. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable tonight?” 

You took a moment to think about it but ended up deciding that there really wasn’t. You had already downed more wine than usually at dinner and it had done nothing to calm your nerves and in the end you decided that you would rather be fully present for what was about to happen than give your husband the opportunity to do whatever he wanted without resistance. 

“Thank you, but I think I’ll manage.” 

Call it women’s intuition, but both you could tell that Padmé didn’t really believe you. 

“Forgive me for speaking so boldly, but if you ever want to talk about what happens in the bedroom between husband and wife, or anything else for that matter, I am here for you.” 

In that moment you realized that just because your mother had left didn’t mean that you were alone. Yes, Padmé was your servant, but you knew other girls who were good friends with their lady’s maids, so why shouldn’t she be your friend as well as your servant? 

“Thank you very much for the offer, but I doubt there is anything you know that I don’t. After all, you’re not married.” 

She raised an eyebrow and seemed to consider something before ultimately shaking her head. 

“I’m not”, she said in a tone that made you question whether there was someone who held a special place in her heart. “But I have heard that some women think of other men when in bed with their husbands.” 

For some reason you didn’t want to investigate any further Captain Rex popped into your head. The feel of his rough hands against your soft ones, the warmth in his gaze, the sound of his voice and laugh. You quickly shook your head, both to get rid off the thoughts and to hide the colour rising to your cheeks from Padmé. Fortunately your maid knew not to press the issue any further. 

“Should I help you change into your nightdress?”

-------

You supposed you should consider yourself lucky that your husband seemed to be in a hurry to get his visit to your bedroom over with. He was in and out of your room within minutes. The time he was with you, and inside you, still felt like hours rather than minutes. The entire time your husband didn’t speak a word, not even a “good night” when he left again and if it hadn’t been for the noises he made you would have thought it was just as much of a duty for him as it was for you, but your mother had told you enough for you to know that the noises meant he was enjoying himself. 

As soon as you heard the door from your sitting room to the corridor close you hurried off the bed and to your bathroom. Padmé, as if she’d know you would need it, had left a second bowl of water and piece of cloth next to the one you used to wash yourself in the morning. You tried to clean your nether regions as best as you could before returning to the bedroom, where you covered as much of the bed as possible with the two clean towels you had brought from the bathroom. 

Though you didn’t feel as clean as you would have liked it would have to do for now and it didn’t take as much tossing and turning for you to fall asleep as you had anticipated. 

-------

The next morning Rex didn’t see you until a few hours after Palpatine had left. He had asked Echo to stay with you while he arranged for the General’s absence, but around midday he finally managed to relief his brother and take on his duty of watching over you. 

You were seated on a small chaise in the rose garden and Rex tried not to stare at how the sun shone on your hair and made your skin glow. Your eyes were closed and he couldn’t tell whether you were sleeping or simply relaxing, all he knew was that you looked more peaceful than you had the day before. 

“What were you doing all day? I thought you were supposed to always be with me”, you asked. 

Rex didn’t know how you could tell it was him standing in the shade of the cherry tree and no longer Echo since your eyes were still closed. For a moment he entertained the thought that you could sense him as much as he could sense you, but he banned that idea from his head almost as soon as it appeared. You had probably just opened your eyes for a split second and seen him, that had to be it.

“I had to sort through the General’s notes for training and timetables to keep everything running smooth while he is gone, that took a while.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement. Finally you looked at him. He felt as if your eyes could look straight through cloth, flesh and muscle to into his soul, and find something growing there you were never supposed to see. 

“I’m glad you’re here now, Captain.” 

The almost teasing way in which you pronounced his rank reminded him of how you had said his name the day before. He had heard beautiful instruments, stunning voices and the exoctic birds the Duke kept around the gardens, but nothing compared to how you said his name. To him it no longer sounded like a name, but a beautiful song, something to cherish, to think of before falling asleep at night and to haunt one’s dreams. 

Though Rex wasn’t what you would call shy, he was very reserved, especially when dealing with his employer, so he did nothing but nod at your comment and then stare straight ahead. He had already allowed himself too many liberties with you and now, as your personal guard, he had to remain professional, or else risk losing everything. 

You, however, did not seem to get his subtle hint, because you just kept talking. 

“I must admit, I much prefer the other garden, what was it called again? The rose garden is beautiful and everything, but it’s just a little too close to the house, I much prefer something more private. But it is too hot to take a single step more than necessary. I really don’t know how you manage in your uniform, you must be melting. Though, if you want, you could take off your jacket. Only if you want, maybe you’re cold, maybe it’s just me who cannot take this heat, but if you want to -”, you stopped your rambling mid sentence. 

Rex risked a short glance at you. Your face was red, as was your neck, and a single drop of sweat was running down your temple to your neck and even further down towards an area he would not risk looking at. 

“I’m sorry”, you said after a bit of silence. “I often find I cannot stop talking when I’m nervous.” 

He tried, he really tried, not to show his surprise, but his eyebrows seemed to have a will of their own when they lifted in confusion. Though Rex managed not to look at you when he spoke, a small victory. 

“What do you have to be nervous about, my lady?”

Part of Rex knew that this conversation could go in a direction it shouldn’t, meaning anything other than the most basic small talk, but another, larger, illogical part, wanted you to keep talking and to listen to every single word you said. 

Your shadow and your footsteps on the gravel told Rex that you were coming closer. Still he did not turn around to face you, not even when you stopped and stood next to him, close enough that he could touch you if only he moved a few centimeters. 

“Everything, to be honest. And nothing at the same time. I am married, living in a big house and should be the happiest girl alive, but it’s just not what I imagined. I feel so out of place, event though this is my home now, and my husband -” 

Rex felt you taking a deep breath rather than hearing it, your whole body relaxed after your exhale. 

“I guess I should stop talking now. After all, my husband is your employer and the only person who should talk about him even less than me, is you.” 

It was your resigned tone that finally made Rex turn to face you. Your blush was gone, instead you had gone quite pale. Only your bright eyes and your lips, the bottom of which you were currently biting, gave your face pops of colour. 

“Did he hurt you?”, Rex asked against his better knowledge. Yes, he was supposed to protect you, but that protection did not extend to the Duke, who, as your husband, was legally allowed to do with you whatever he wanted. 

You hesitated for a fraction of a moment before shaking your head. 

“No, he didn’t. It’s just... My marriage simply isn’t what I had been expecting.” 

Both relief and sadness flooded through Rex. Of course he was glad the Duke hadn’t laid his hands on you, but his heart was also breaking for you. 

“I suppose I was simply holding out hope for a knight in shining armor for so long that even now I can’t get rid of the idea. But that’s on me for reading too many books and wishing for a fairytale.” 

A twinkle was back in your eyes. Maybe, Rex thought, you were thinking of your childhood dreams or even a childhood love. And though he didn’t like the thought of that, a feeling he shoved down as deep as possible, he was glad to see some of your sadness gone. 

“I’ve heard of other women who gain their happiness through their children instead of their husbands”, he said in a low voice. It was something he had seen with his mother, who gave all her love and care to him and his brothers and didn’t seem to have much for her husband.

“Children...”, you stepped closer to Rex after whispering the word. Your (y/e/c) eyes settled on his honey coloured ones. “That’s the whole reason the Duke even married me, to give him an heir. I guess that really is all I’m good for.” 

Rex’s eyes widened in shock. Did you really think that? Did you not see that there could be so much more to your life? 

“I am sorry, my lady, but I disagree. There is so much more to you than the ability give the Duke an heir. You have your whole life ahead of you and-” 

Suddenly Rex noticed the way your eyes hung on his lips, the astounded expression on your face. 

“I... I’m sorry, it’s not my place to say such things.” 

One second you just stared at Rex, the next you reached out and held his hand in yours. A soft smile was on your face and just like that all his worries of getting scolded disappeared and were replaced by a feeling of content and warmth spreading from his hand all the way to his heart. 

“Thank you, Rex”, you said, your voice soft and sincere. “No one has ever said anything like that to me. You’re a kind man.” 

Rex had gotten compliments before, from his mother, his brothers and his General, but never had they meant as much as the four simple words coming out your mouth. He could have sworn his heart stopped at the combination of your smile, your touch and your words. You were giving him so much by simply being with him and he knew, deep down, that nothing he could say would ever repay you for the way he felt in that moment. 

I finally managed to continue this story. Sorry it took so long, but I wanted to take my time to do this right and with uni starting again time is something I don’t have a lot of recently. 

But a huge thank you to everyone who read and commented on the first part! It really means a lot, even though I haven’t figured out how to reply to you using this blog I have read the comments and they warmed my heart. I hope you’ll enjoy this part as much as the first one and are looking forward to part three. 

Taglist: @and-claudia @pinkiemme @callme-eds

[athys-obelia]

character/s: claude de alger obelia, diana of siodonna, felix robane

synopsis: it's...uhm....an empress!diana x concubine!claude crackfic 😭😭

warning/s: uhh a sprinkle of politics, the robane duchy is now siodonnan and not obelian screw canon, diana is lowkey mean to rogrog

a/n: i'm so sorry this is so bad

part one

felix's foot taps against the tiles of the empress' room impatiently. "you stayed up finalising the agreement all night, your majesty, perhaps some rest is due?"

diana spares him glance, turning sideways from her position on her bed. "what was his name again?"

  "pardon?"

  "the painter," she elaborates, pointing towards the painting on the ceiling above the bed. "i keep...i don't know, i keep finding new things the more i look at it."

  "is that so?"

the painting itself, a coronation gift from felix, depicts the goddess diana reaching out to the children of the world and vice versa. "if you look at the sky closely - remember our old siodonann classes?- 'for the people' is hidden in the stars. isn't that cool?"

the knight squints at the painting. "oh, i see it! i wonder why it's in old siodonann, though?"

  "i would guess it's because the imperial family wasn't worshipped in the old days," diana explains, "for example - right now, in some parts of the empire, my late father - bless him - and i may actually have shrines because people believe the imperial family's descent is from the gods. when the kingdom was just formed, though, kings and queens weren't allowed to ride alone in carriages as they greeted their subjects- they needed to have a slave with them at all times, who kept on repeating 'you are human' to them. 'you are human', 'we are all the same in the eyes of the true gods."

the sound of the army of maids behind the door is enough to pull felix out of his trance. "er...horatius calvus, your majesty."

  "hm?"

  "the artist, that's his name."

  "ah." diana turns to the painting once more, eyes staring at the goddess' hair that melted into the night sky. "would you be able to get in contact with him? i'd like to commission a piece."

felix bows gracefully. "as your majesty commands. oh, and - for the obelian delegates' farewell celebration tonight...has your majesty decided on an escort?"

she groans, falling back on the bed. "i've had so much free time lately, the harem is all i think about!"

  "very funny, ma'am. then...shall i prepare the usual?"

diana shakes her head. "i'll visit viscaria palace later and see for myself. the obelians brought some concubines with them as presents, it's be nice to weed through the bunch."

felix's eyes nearly pop out. "you're visiting the harem?! your majesty! did you find someone you like??"

she chucks a pillow at him before he can continue. "you weren't loud enough just now, fe, i don't think all of siodonna heard you."

  "...apologies, ma'am."

three years ago, when she had only just come into power, diana remembers being afraid of the large, gold doors between her and the council room. she remembers pausing before entering, regaining her breath, preparing her mind. projecting an image.

if there is one thing she has learnt, though, it's that only fools can be afraid of their own property. their assets. the larger-than-life doors swing at her command, allow or deny entrance with solely her permission. confidence comes easy when you act like you own the place - nevermind the fact that she did own most places.

but i have no reason to be afraid.

the obelian delegates stand at her arrival and bow like good little lords should before an empress. one of the more prominent ones stands to address her as soon as the meeting commences.

  "blessings and glory upon the sun of the great siodonnan empire," he says.

diana raises an amused eyebrow. this game, hm? "is that an obelian greeting, duke? how interesting. here, one would usually wish 'a long life to the protector of the siodonnan people'. that's all i am, after all - how could i be the sun?"

duke alpheus sputters. "er...i failed to acquaint myself with siodonnan culture appropriately, my apologies, your majesty. i shall do better next time."

how arrogant. still, she smiles, "i must confess, duke alpheus - i am slightly susceptible to praise, so i'll let you off this time."

  "thank you, ma'am."

  "although making the assumption that there will be a next time at all was quite courageous of you." diana signals the guards, who open the door to let the final participant of the meeting inside. "however -courage and bravery are traits best suited for kings and queens, duke. not lords."

the obelian delegates pale as they watch their - former - emperor, wrists bound, enter the hall with an entourage of knights.

diana glances at the newcomer. "although i suppose even for an emperor, too much of a bravado may cost a war."

anastacius de alger obelia glowers at her.

she frowns at the knights. "how come such a precious friend of mine is tied up like this? is this how we siodonnans treat our guests?"

felix bows deeply. "i apologise, ma'am - he was resisting far too much."

  "whatever the case. get a seat set up right here, beside me - after all," diana smiles at the fuming obelian, "we were dining together just a few months ago, weren't we?"

  "three months ago, to be precise," anastacius spits out, "after which you decided to switch tides and invade us like a coward."

she watches one of the knights set down a fancy chair to the left of hers, reaching out to untie the bindings on anastacius' wrist. diana frowns suddenly, waving over felix, "ah, is this the leash my brother used when he tamed his dragon?"

the former emperor flinches, staring down at it. "someone here tamed a dragon?" a light pink dusts his cheeks - did he really touch the actual leash of a dragon?

felix shakes his head with a small smirk. "this is the leash her majesty the late dowager empress used, ma'am. for her dog."

  "-ah, right, i remember now! all the ones marked with this little purple line are used for tying down senseless animals, aren't they?"

  "yes, your majesty." felix returns to his spot behind her, clear amusement swimming in his grey eyes as he watches the obelians try and maintain their composure.

diana gently lets the leash loose, a hand on the stunned anastacius' shoulder to lightly push him into the seat. "you aren't wrong - i did betray your hospitality, didn't i?"

roger alpheus winces at the sudden authority in her tone as the knights pass out a document to each of the obelian lords.

  "obelia's greeting and offer for peace was kind to me, so i must return this generosity. your country is now part of the siodonnan empire, so we should be parting on a good note. will a little present suffice?"

a brunette diana remembers to be a count speaks up, "...a gift, your majesty?"

felix moves closer to the table, watching the detailed map of siodonna carved into its centre. as he raises his hand, almost as if it were a chess piece, a small island moves to the left. its color flickers between a siodonnan purple and the obelian teal.

diana sighs. "i was planning on the island of delphine, since it not only contains a relatively large gold mine, but also much tourist attraction."

oh, she can see the stars in alpheus' eyes already. "thank you, your ma-"

  "but." he shrivels under her piercing gaze, "but, obelia doesn't need gold, does it? what you need is better foreign relations. and what better way to form an alliance..."

she eyes the map, and with a flick of felix's wrist, a small stretch of land connecting two continents switches from its original purple to a hue of blue.

diana looks up now, meeting even anastacius' shocked eyes. he eyes her suspiciously, "do you really-?"

she nods. "...consider it a gift from your sovereign. it is enough, yes?"

  "i- uh," duke alpheus blinks twice, "the isthmus of erven is...an adequate present, yes, your majesty. the people of obelia shall thrive due to your generosity."

  "it is not generosity, duke. your people are my subjects now. however, i hope you realise the isthmus isn't obelian property for obvious reasons. there is no trust between us. despite this, what i will allow is some access." diana stands, watching the foreign nobles mirror the action. "the terms and conditions of our relationship from this point onwards are in the papers before you and are, obviously, subject to change. feel free to approach me with concerns, should you have any."

  "you were firmer than i'd expected with the obelians, your majesty," felix comments.

diana recoils as his eyes light up at the sight of viscaria palace. "remember when i visited obelia for anastacius' coronation? i was only seventeen, but two years into my studies as heir - and they were all over duke renauld's son! poor cousin ronnie couldn't stop apologising."

felix snorts. "the renaulds wouldn't have dared challenge your majesty's claim, not while the late empress dowager was behind you."

  "ha! that's right, everyone was scared of mama." she grins fondly, "papa most of all."

the knight nods, murmuring a prayer.

  "i want them gone as soon as possible," diana admits, "but there's much to settle before that. i need to fix up anastacius before we can let him back, the second prince is still...what was his name, again?"

  "claude de alger obelia, ma'am."

she winces. "yes, he's an impo-"

a commotion sounds from within viscaria. felix raises an eyebrow at the shouts echoing from the beautiful building, a hand already atop his sheathed sword. "ma'am, stay back, i'll have a look- your majesty! where are you going-?!"

navigating through the decorated halls, diana halts before the entrance of the garden. the argument is between two men she doesn't recognise, as the older concubines gather to the side, amusing twinkling in their eyes.

  "attention!" felix roars, "her imperial majesty, empress diana celeste!"

the two freeze in fear.

  "disrupting my peace. how dare you?" diana demands.

one of them, dressed too finely for someone she hadn't even seen yet, steps forward. "your majesty, my name is xerre, i was only-"

she raises a hand, effectively shutting him up. tone softening, diana turns to the group crowding around the desert table. "lex?"

the group shuffles to let a young, silver haired young man forward. lex bows gracefully, laugh lines around his eyes crinkling. "yes, my lady?"

  "do you know what happened here?"

lex nods. "the monthly salary was being distributed, your majesty, and xerre - being a present from the kingdom of masur - had some trouble believing his amount was the same as a former obelian slave's. verhan stepped in to argue that your majesty was the one to decide this, and they began fighting."

  "shall i prepare for his voyage back to masur, majesty?" felix asks, as the rest of the concubines roll their eyes at his antics.

diana studies the masurian concubine, beckoning him closer. "it is common knowledge i do not generally accept gifted concubines from territories out of my own."

she watches his adam's apple rise and fall, tracing a nail over the well defined jawline. xerre shivers.

  "however, your king is new to his throne, and his queen one of my dearest friends. do you realise how our alliance will look were i to send you back?"

he nods cautiously.

  "i do not wish to withdraw support from someone i consider a brother, xerre. especially when he is engaged in armed conflict on two fronts."

  "i- i am prepared for any punishment your majesty deems appropriate."

diana sighs softly. "i would send you to work for me in the capitol, but the rules state every concubine entering must reside here for a certain amount of time. until then, bear with it. this palace, and a life of luxury, is only meant for my favorites. clear?"

  "yes, your majesty."

  "my apologies, ma'am," felix says once the crowd disperses, his head hanging. "i should've prepared for your arrival with more care."

she waves off the apology, heading to the guest hall to take a look at the new obelian  concubines.

  "vera leaves for her son's wedding for a week and we've already had an incident. honestly, felix."

  "...who's vera?"

diana pauses at the unfamiliar voice. her gaze falls on the figure sitting on the window seat, entirely immersed in the book in his hands. she blinks, stunned, watching the colourful window's filtered light paint the brilliant blonde of his hair.

felix is the first to address him, scoffing, "i believe your majesty's beauty has enchanted one of the gods - who else would dare address the empress of our nation so casually?"

diana chuckles, watching as the man stands, intrigued. she stays silent, breath hitched, as he towers over her, studying her with a curiosity that rivals hers from a moment ago. and only when he finally lowers himself to a knee does his hair part, and diana flushes at the red tinting his ears.

  "greetings to her imperial majesty, may the gods grant the protector of the siodonnan people a life long and blessed."

she offers him her hand. "rise. and tell me your name."

a beat of silence passes as he stares at her outstretched hand before hesitantly accepting. "claude, your majesty."

  "claude," diana tries, finding it rolls of her tongue deliciously.

he raises an eyebrow as she regards him. "your majesty...?"

diana smiles, her hand moving to touch the various jewellery adorning his fingers. gently, she slides off the gold ring off of his ring finger. "you must have a good reason to be donning an unauthorized magical item in my palace."

he doesn't answer, head lowered.

her hand lets go of his, raising to grip the blonde's jaw. diana tilts up his face, meeting his gaze. the dull grey eyes from before have vanished, replaced by glittering blues.

she inhales sharply. "you're...the obelian pr...the second prince of obelia."

he nods.

diana turns, more puzzled than angry. "why is he in my harem?"

  "... didn't your majesty wish for it?" felix tilts his head in confusion.

  "what? no?"

the knight frowns. "but i was so sure...your majesty said you didn't have an heir because you wanted a concubine as beautiful as me...when we took over the imperial palace, as the army swore their allegiance...your majesty said the prince was the prettiest you’ve ever seen?"

  "i- felix, i was kidding!"

  "...oh."

she turns to the prince then, "and you! you're a prince! how come you just went along with this??"

  "well...it was the most peaceful part of the palace..."

diana gapes at the two men, before finally sighing in defeat. "you're telling me i was scouring the lands for you, while you were right...?" she raises a hand to massage her temple, "...gods grant me patience."

felix cautiously steps forward, "your majesty...i understand this is shocking, but... tonight's escort..."

she glances up at the obelian prince. "allow them all to retire. i've found the perfect escort."

a/n: hmmm this was a bit empty claudiana wise, wasn't it? their development is coming though, i had to give empress!diana an intro :) also !! the situation may seem a bit confusing rn, but next chapter will clear things up! or you can just ask me for clarification <3

💕 felix is dying to find a concubine diana likes bc he really really really wants to be an uncle

💕 in siodonna, emperors/empresses are referred to by their first(diana) + middle name(celeste) and not a last name bc they technically can't belong to a house, they belong to the empire. but the middle name is important bc you have to ask for it (from someone you love and respect usually), you're never just born with one (so you could ask a parent / friend / mentor yada yada and they give you a name they believe fits best)

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Monday 20 January 1840

8 50/..

1

fine morning R-1° at 8 a.m. dehors – R10 ¼° on the console and 11° on my table at at 10 a.m. breakfast over at 10 50/.. – wrote this page – count P- called for 2 or 3 minutes at 11 ¼ - gave me 3 letters of introduction 1 to count Werontzoff, 1 to Maréchal de la Noblesse at Nijnii [Nižnij] Novgorod, and 1 to the governor of Astrakhan – the comte will come in the evening – had just written so far now at 11 40/.. – at 1 ¾ had just finished copying my letter to M- of 18 November and 3 January (vid. Journal of this latter date) when on looking out of the window saw it snowing and Madame O- came

and her sister came just as I wrote the last line at 1 ¾ in the snow and must have been here an hour or more when they hurried off on the arrival of princesse Michel Galitzin who sat talking till 3 35/.. – very nice agreeable person – I really like her very much – nobody could be more civil – she is très liée de la princesse Tcherkask who wishes to make our acquaintance – princesse G- will be glad to see us some evening to tea, and will present us to princesse T- explained our journey – that I had now travelled 10 years – had always longed to travel – lived with my uncle homme très instruit – savant – did nothing but read – talked to him of travelling who bade me wait till après sa mort – princesse G- had heard we were going into Asia – said I feared that (understanding her to mean Persia etc.) was not possible sans courier des grandes risques; but if it should be feasible to go to Tabriz, should be glad – however did not think of it – talked of Troitza [Troitsa] – the history of father Antoine given by Lady Londonderry, and the name of the lady to whom he was said to be attached – all this an error – it was no attachment that made him turn monk – it was une invocation, what we our Methodists should term a call – his protecteur prince......... meant him for the world – had a physician in the house under father A- studied medicine but was always reading livres de piété when he could, and at last ran away and became monk – the princesse Tcherkask knows him very well – and princess G- has his history from a person who has known him from his infancy – Lady Londonderry is wrong – ditto old princesse O- who told me the same story but without names – and without saying Lady L- told the same story – Madame O- very civil – speaking of plate she said 96 zolotniks = 1lb. Russe and one buys silver spoons, forks, etc at ./90 to 1/. per zolotnik (by weight) – good silver forks in England will weigh from 3oz. to 4oz. a piece; and suppose a Russian lb. to weigh 12oz. = 96 zolotniks and suppose 8zolotnicks = 1oz. .:. one fork weighing 3oz. or 24 zolotniks = 24/. to go to Madame O- on Wednesday at 12 (noon) and she will go with me to buy all we want – had just written so far now at 4 ¼ p.m. – took up the St. James’s chronicle of 19 to 22 October – dressed – dinner at soon after 6 – count Panin came soon after 7 and staid till very near 8 – took leave before going into the country for a week or 10 days – if my casserole is not ready I am to take his – sorry he is going before we get off – tea at 8 – afterwards till 11 finished the above newspaper and the following ones , viz. from 22 to 24, and from 24 to 26, and from 26 to 29 October – nothing very particular but the mention (last paper p. 3 col. 4) of the late duke of Bedfords’

SH:7/ML/E/23/0184

rent roll estimated at £250,000 per annum – he received £4,000 per annum as grand landlord of Druny-lane and covent garden theatres and £12,000 per annum as proprietor of Covent garden market – and vid. 24 to 226 October p. 2 vol. 4 from the Leicester Journal it is said that Sir Edward Godfrey Leman, heir to the late Sir John L- ‘will shortly come into possession of his immense landed and funded property the annual rents alone amount to £400000’ – vid. 19 to 22 October p. 4 vol. 2 from the morning Herald – Beau Brummel[l] in a Lunatic Asylum in Caen in Normandy, existing on the ‘benevolence of relations and contributions of friends’ on scarcely £100 a year - !!! vid. 22 to 24 October p. 1 vol. 5 at the Epping agricultural dinner thanks to Mr. Palmer for producing 2 samples – of black wheat from Russia, and white barley from China – the former not perhaps much worth for England but Mr. Palmer observed the latter might be of use from the quickness of its growth – instead of being a lean thin barley was nearly the substance of our own – ‘that sown in his garden in May, was in ear and ripe in June; he then sowed it again, and some of it was nearly ripe now from the seed......... It might be of use in colder climates and perhaps it might be serviceable here’ had had Grotza, and just written the last 5 lines of the last page and so far of this now at 12 25/.. tonight – fine morning till about one – then snowy for an hour or 2 or more then fair again – R12 ½° on my table and 11 ½° on the console and fine moonlight night now at 12 ½ tonight – seemingly rather a thaw wind? and R1 ½° above the freezing point dehors – the thaw has cleared the glass of the window and I once more see the thermometer fixed up outside

[lucidpantone]

Preview: The three sided king

Yes I am still writing this fic and this chapter is almost done. Its super long chapter but here is a preview.

Incase you need to a recap of where we left off: Published Chapters

Aquarias 1470

He is standing on the axis.

Barely visible between the white florets.

It’s soothing on the inside.

Like a concentrated dosage of vitamins and minerals.

The walls surrounding him are lacquered in a mint hue. Cool and expressive, a pigment rumored to remove free radicals from his interior.

The south wing of the palace seemed to suffice.

The Duke’s quarters were generous and ample. For all the Duke’s pomp and circumstance he actually required very little to live comfortably. He had only one request and that his chamber be adorned with white flowers at all times to quench his need to bring beauty to life via his skills on parchment.

Drawing was the only therapy that would help elucidate the Duke’s mind. It would bend time and submerge his troubled thoughts into a state of calm and as he sat in his quarters trying to unravel the enigma that caught him off guard; time got lost like a billow in a breeze and before he knew it a portrait of the prince of swords was looking back at him. Within seconds after laying eyes on the prince he had become the antioxidant for the duke’s deteriorating soul; an unforeseen remedy wrapped up in a beautiful creature with hickory ringlets that fell perfectly past his shoulders and a chocolate gaze complimented by perfectly placed laugh lines.

It’s hard to forget the moment he laid eyes on him. The smell of rain had just smacked him across the chest as he rushed up the stairs to the rotunda. The rate at which the heavens spilled their tears onto the palace courtyard matched the virago of the many scorned women Sander had left behind. As Sander greeted the Duke of Burgundy and his wife the rain began to whip around like a serpent dancing to a siren’s song and thunderclaps began to roll tide across the grey sky.A lightning fork lit up their drop back like an ominous foretelling of their preordained future but in that moment he first caught a glimpse of him and his center of gravity shifted.

His bride-to-be Mary of Burgundy had stepped forward to curtsy for her lord, revealing the prince hidden by her side. Sander instantly fixated on him.  The prince had locked his gaze onto the ground. Focusing on something Sander could not see. Sander was in dire need to see every inch of his chiseled features. Sander was discreet in trying to move his gaze from Mary to the prince but he was suddenly nervy and his suave demeanor broke for a matter of seconds when he fumbled out a high pitch overly zealous greeting, "The Prince of Swords. It's nice to make your acquaintance".

The prince broke thought and looked up at Sander with a curious expression. The prince was nothing like Sander imagined him to be. He was a living cypher. A being in need of decoding. A walking enigma. His features were tender and his eyes warm but also hard edged. The initial flicker of warmth the prince had radiated seconds before was quickly replaced by a glacial facade. The prince was cool and collected, beautiful but stone like but one thing was certain the Prince of swords was no brut he was a man capable of dancing on a knife's edge, conquering a nation, riding into battle and becoming a champion. He was much more compact than Sander had expected but in possession of a noticeably stealthy physique. Sander and the prince both got lost in each other’s gaze for a prolonged second as they shook hands when the prince’s father, the Duke of Burgundy, broke the occasion.

“Here, here. I see you have met my son, the prince of swords”

Sander threw the prince a soft smile before breaking his gaze and looking towards the fast approaching Duke Of Burgundy.

“Yes, yes I have my lord”

“Be careful with that one. I know he doesn’t look like much but blink too slow and he’ll have the dagger of Burgundy at your throat.”

As the Duke of Burgundy positioned himself horizontally to Sander’s right shoulder he preemptively began to move Sander towards the long line of courtiers waiting to introduce themselves to him with their high born titles.

Sander took two steps forward alongside the Duke but then paused and quickly turned back and headed back to prince.

It was practically a whisper, the first of many that they would exchange as Sander cloaked their exchange with a secondary handshake and said softly.

“Sander, by the way”

Robbe’s eyes grew wide and his mouth opened a bit in shock as he knew it was uncommon for Duke’s of Sander status to exchange such pleasantries amongst those unknown to their court but he reacted quickly as to not offend the Duke and matched his lords volume.

“Robbe” he sighed out softly.

Sander smiled and in that split second he saw it again. The warmth Robbe had been hiding from the rest of the world.

--

Sander snapped out of his memories and was back in his quarters surrounded by the mint hues as he heard his chambers doors being pried open.

He quickly stood up off his chair and discarded his parchment and charcoal on it.

As he walked towards the door he recognized the voice on the other side.

Charles’s voice was animating through the chamber doors as rambunctious and cavalier as always as he strolled into Sander’s hideaway.

“My lord---” Charles interrupted Sander with a palm up salute.

“I told you to call me Senne. That’s what my family calls me and you're soon to be family right?”

Sander threw Senne a half baked smile as validation and proceeded to appease his request.

“Of course, Senne.”

Senne clapped his hands together enthusiastically signaling his entourage to show Sander what he came here for.

“Ahhhh… I brought you something for tonight”, Senne called over one of his servants.

The servant laid down a strange looking object on Sander’s bed. As Sander examined it he found it quite a peculiar gift.

“A mask?” Sander questioned wiping all offense from his tone.

“Yes, You’ll be the bull tonight for our masked ball to celebrate your addition to our family.”

Senne’s tone ranged from devilish to persuasive, mercurial to Insidious but Sander knew these overt insults were merely a test of wit and dominance.

To appease the Burgundian duke Sander played coy and shot him a thankful smile and opened his arms wide as he folded them in front of himself and curtsied towards the duke and spoke clearly.

“My lord if you wish me to be the bull. Then the bull I shall be.”

“Good. I think it suits you. Makes you stand out and we wouldn’t want anyone to miss you.” Sander didn’t miss the slight dose of passive aggression laced all over Senne's voice.

“I’ll leave you one of my servants to help you get ready” Sander noted that a mid sized male stepped forward from Senne’s kings guard with large fluffy curls adorning the top of his head.

“Thank you” Sander stated.

Senne and his court began to exit the mint hue room when Senne turned around like he just remembered what he actually came to Sander’s quarters for, “Oh before I forget…. don’t indulge too much on the festivities tonight. I arranged for the Prince to show you around the grounds in the early morning”.

Sander’s ears perked up at the sheer mention of the Prince.

“I’ll be sure to behave myself sire” Sander gives Senne a light nod as Senne turns and heads toward the exit once again.

“My lord would you like help getting dressed for tonight?” Senne’s kingsmen interrupts Sander’s thoughts.

“Yes, of course. I am sorry I didn’t catch your name….”

“Younes, my lord”

“Younes, please call me Sander” Younes gave Sander a soft smile in agreement.

“You should start getting ready Sander. The masquerade ball has been planned for weeks and it's the highlight of the season. Your betrothed has been planning her outfits since it was announced.”

Oh great Sander thinks not only has he been given short notice but now he also needs to pass some predetermined litmus test that the Burgundians have surely been cooking up for him.

He’ll just rely on his bravado and dynamism to survive the occasion.

“So you don’t know what my betrothed will be wearing tonight?”

Younes gently puts his right hand over his heart and softly whispers, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy”.

Sander lets out a soft giggle.

“Ok understandable. Wouldn’t want you to break any pacts.”

“What about the Prince? Do you know what he’ll be wearing?”

“Oh of course but everyone knows that” Younes reassures.

“He’ll be the lion” Younes states matter-of-factly.

“The Prince is always the lion”

“And why is that?” Sander asks curiously.

“Because the prince has never encountered prey he couldn’t kill.There’s a reason they call him the Prince Of Swords…..Don’t let your guard down or he’ll be the death of you.”

----

The darken corridors felt like a labyrinth.

A maze of endless entry and exit points on a journey to nowhere.

The palace was a mere whirlpool of decor that captured the zeitgeist of the time.

Tapestries adorning floor to ceiling windows.

Polished stone staircases.

Portraits of past rulers and the coat of arms of the burgundian nation stapled across every possible crevice of available wall space.

Sander felt like some sort of heretic. He didn’t belong amongst these people. He gave no credence to their cause. If anything he was the antistasis to their campaign secretly lobbying for their demise and permanently obtuse to the burgundian struggle. He knew there was no permanence to this betrothal. He would never allow himself to wed a kin of the three lions. This agreement was merely for show; a pit stop till he got back to his real life.

He sauntered down the palace halls with little regard to their importance, going out of his way to belittle all the objects the burgundians treasured like some sort of ignorant dilettante.

Sander knew he merely had to survive these grasslands. Deem himself a poacher within this big cat habitat. Become merciless and when an opening presents itself, drive an arrow through the heart of a lion but first he would need to learn how not to become the prey.

He came out of nowhere.

Hidden by the cover of night.

He was observing him from the end of the long hallway. The lion standing at ready. Taking him in. He wore a burnt orange colored cape with hand etched gold trimming. His chocolate orbs the color of an afternoon sunset. His face adorning the face of a leader of the pack.

Sander just stared at him.

Curious.

Drawn in.

His feet pick up pace towards him. Completely oblivious to the fact that he himself is drench in a disguise. For tonight he is but nothing but a bull; temperamental and sinister. A green eyed monster ready to crash land on his own personal matador.

He almost reaches him and then the lion looks out to some unknown voice down the hall and runs towards it, getting lost in the sea of creatures in the throws of their festivities inside the grande ballroom.

The bull lets his instinct guide him and blurs into the terrain of blushing birds, bunny rabbits, deers and wolves all dancing in unison with one another under the twinkle of the ballroom’s candlelight incandescents.

For one night only mere mortals have morphed into beast, hounds and the feather habitants of a wild life Archipelago. The bull weaves his way around a pack of wolves, passes a litter of kittens when he suddenly feels a serpent wrap its scaly surface behind his neck and tug him in their direction.

“There you are?” The Marchioness Deruwe spoke in a possessive tone.

Sander flung his head in a 90 degree turn towards her direction.

The Marchioness Deruwe was a beautiful creature. That was not something that was ever up for debate but she was conniving and a master of the game. She maneuvered courts to her will. Destroying young maiden’s reputations on a whim. Her prowess for dismantling those who opposed her was so infamous it travelled with her across the channel to the Burgundian realm. She was a flower of the Yorkist faction. Her father had married her off to a French Marquess at the tender age of 16. Most young English maiden’s would have been intimidated to enter the French courts so unestablished but the Marchioness had spent her entire life bossing her pack of blonde hair, blue eyed hyenas around every Yorkish social event. To the Marchioness getting in the good graces of King Lucas and Queen Daphne was nothing more than sport. Another challenge to show off her skill set. It took no more than a season until she was trotting around the French palace like she owned the place. She worked her angle to its utmost potential, securing her husband the Marquess Deruwe a role as official acting liaison to the French king throughout the Burgundy nation and so here she stood exactly where Sander expected her.

Regal, drenched in beauty, playing her role. Moving puzzle pieces around. Advising young courtiers who were on the hunt for some prey and willing to do anything to climb up the social ladder to land themselves a big fish.

“My lady”

Sander slightly bowed in her direction as she placed her hand out to be kissed by Sander’s lips.

“My lord”

She said in giddy almost pantomime fashion.

It was strange for Sander to have the Marchioness validate his presence. For so long she had only toyed with him. Wound him up and dropped him like he was some rudimentary tool the Marchioness had outgrown and had no use for anymore. He hated to admit it to himself but she had taught him how to love. To love only for gluttony, to never share or truly give yourself to another but to merely take and when all resources had been depleted to move on to the next bigger and better thing. Sander had experienced this first hand as a young adolescent who lost himself in the Marchioness' blonde locks and lean figure and late nights falling asleep on her bosom but as intense as their “love” was, Sander just became another victim of her wicked game. She gorged and binged herself on his love mosaic, his unrelenting joyful spirit that illuminated a room like a moonbeam in the middle of a forest but once the affair was all over he was left a mere shell of himself. She had taken everything from him. Sander felt he had no other options but to resign himself to a monastic order or to become an agent of this dark market where love was a tool for savagery, negotiation, lust and pure greed. Sander had turned himself from a victim to a lothario. Only playing the game of love for sheer sport just to quench his blood lust.

Sander lost track of time and didn’t even realize how long he had been standing in front of the Marchioness spellbound by her presence when his axis shifted and he saw the lion surrounded by his pack. He snapped into animation and headed towards the lion passing a hoard of mice, a stallion and his mare.

The troop of big cats all turn towards the bulls' direction as he comes to a halt mere feet away from their king. The lion walks forward to meet the bull and as they close the distance and stand mere inches from one another about to break out of this wild life sanctuary and into the human realm the ballroom goes dark.

A sudden cacophony of screams and squeals rumbles through the ballroom.

“Who do you want to be tonight?” The Duke of Burgundy asks the wildlife in a demanding tone.

“Do you want to be a predator?”

“Or the prey? …...Tonight ladies and gentleman or should I say inhabitants of the animal kingdom. Tonight there are no rules. You can be who you want to be under the guise of moonlight.”

“If you dare not play our game and you absolutely must light your way through tonight's festivities then take one of the candles that the servants are providing but if you're brave and truly want to get lost in the darkness then the castle is your playground for one night and there is only one rule,what happens in the darkness stays in the darkness”.

The roar of the wildstock animates through the ballroom and orbs of light begin to appear in front of masked beast, birds and prey.

A gothic melody begins to fill the room as the musical entertainment for the evening amplifies through all corners of the palace.

The orbs begin to make a circular formation and the heat of the flames subdues the wild life.

The candle flames waltz back and forth.

And the hot blooded creatures move in the shape of a half crescent moon.

More orbs begin to light the room and the moon phases begin to decorate the floor as they do the night sky.

The green monster suddenly feels a tug of his wrist as gravity and his heart desire walk towards the moon phases and the lion and the bull head towards the dancing troop standing side by side, when the lion does a sudden about face and is standing directly in front of the bull.

“Dance with me?” the lion asked in a meek tone. One anticipating a denial.

“I don’t wish to embarasses you my prince but one is not a dancer”

The bull notices the lion's chocolate gaze scan his person when a sickly sweet tone comes out lightly encouraging the bull.

“Just follow along. I promise I won’t lead you astray. Just trust me.”

The lion lifts both his palms to his shoulder height facing the bull and the bull matches his movement.

The lion settles his palms against the bulls as they stand two ready pilgrims; palm to palm in holy palmers' kiss.

As the gothic chimes began to pick up pace the lion demo’s a gentleman’s curtsy which the bull mirrored. They retouch palms but this time they point their hands towards the sky and as the bull and the lion brought them down so did each pair of courtiers in the ballroom and took their position to begin the waltz.

The lion and the bull stand shoulder to shoulder vertically, each positioning themselves to face opposite sides of the ballroom but completely interlocked via one's right arm into the other’s left.

“You ready?” The music begins to speed up.

“NO” Sander chuckles out embarrassed.

“Did I mention I am really really bad at this…” he admits with a lack of confidence that is foreign to him.

“Well I think it’s fate then because I’m really good at this” Robbe shoots Sander a wink.

The pair of gentlemen begin swaying in a whimsical harmonic intonation. Fluted skirts twirled around them under the incandescent flicker of limelight radiating  around the ballroom.

Robbe’s mood becomes rather chipper as an uptempo beat begins to sound around the room and an uncontrollable laugh begins  bubbling up to the surface. Sensing he has the upper hand, Robbe is suddenly full of gumption and can’t help but tease the Duke.

“You really are bad at this, aren’t you?”

Sander is moving his limbs around aimlessly with a lack of grace that you could mistake him for a duck failing to take flight.

All feathers, no grace.

“Stop laughing at me” Sander demands in a playful tone.

Shooting him a makaveli smile. Robbe begins to untie his connected arm and gently grab Sander’s hand to guide it towards the heavens emulating a wedding’s arch.

“Tsk, tsk ……. Come on my duke go on” Robbe signals to Sander to go under the arch suggesting that he was about to twirl Sander mid dance.

Sander stalls for a second but as Robbe pulls on his arm he follows his direction.

“You’re enjoying torturing me too much my prince”

Sander knows that to the rest of the courtiers he must look clumsy and foolish but in that moment he couldn’t care less. The prince stirs an unfamiliar feeling within Sander. He feels weightless, airy and unencumbered. He knows this feeling is what Bernard would call fun or what he was adamant Sander was hesitant to experience in life, which was a carefree playdate. One without an agenda, an individual he could let go with and maybe one day even feel compelled to show his true nature too. The real Sander, the one he hid from the world.

Now that Sander had let Robbe have a little fun with him. It was time he matched the prince at his game.

Sander tugs on Robbe’s arm and pulls him towards him. They are standing so close together that Sander can feel the hot breath of royalty when Robbe doth protest to Sander hand gripping his slim waist.

Sander leans in towards the side of Robbe’s face and whispers lightly.

“Ready?”

“What?” Robbe replies with an inquisitive squint adorning his eyes.

“We're not going to stay here all evening are we? The night is young...”

“Sander I can’t lea---”

“On the count of 3” Sander reenforces.

“But my fiance is waiting…..” Robbe whispers, trailing off in a barely audible volume towards the end.

“3”

Before Robbe can fight the instinct to relent. Sander is rushing him out of the ballroom, leaving the prideland behind. Emergency evacuating from the serengeti and rushing down a dark corridor camouflaged by the night sky.

Before they both know it they have reached the rotunda the place where Robbe’s first laid eyes on Sander under a lightning painted sky that only served to  illuminate Sander’s chiseled face; and though Robbe was lost for words in this moment he would look back at their first meeting and recall that even amongst the torrential downpour and screams of mother nature there was no denying that Robbe always knew that Sander would be the one.

____________________

“Have you lost yourself in lunacy?”

Robbe turned to Sander, sporting a sour expression.

“I didn’t think you would lack imagination my prince”

“I don’t” Robbe spoke sternly, surprised at Sander’s use of his formal title.

“Oh no? Seems like you're questioning my intentions.”

“Is the prince of swords fearful he will be led astray?”

Both men stood silent staring at one another. Calculating their next decision as if the weight of a nation depended on it.

For Sander, Robbe had the properties of a seductive paramour. He knew the prince was promised to another and that whatever he sought from him would be nothing more than a diliance by night. A transaction that could only take place in the cloak of darkness but he didn’t care. When he was in his presence he felt displaced, rocking on the edge of an axis, chemically imbalanced, filled to the brim with potency.

For Robbe, Sander was the last drink of the night he should have walked away from. The moment you recall the next morning that tipped you over the edge. He was a deadly sin manifested in a man. Sander was Robbe’s last everclear.

Both men hear the squabbles of hyenas approaching their territory and on a lion’s instinct Robbe grabs Sander’s hand and leads him down the rotunda stairs.

“Come on Sander, someone will see us”

They escape through the courtyard and away from the herd.

Hand in hand.

Together.

In alliance.

The palace is pitch black, almost frightening but Robbe navigates the route with such gravitas, purpose, unwavered and committed towards his sin. The men untether themselves from their role play. They throw their masks aside and run into the night together in their purest forms.

Robbe heads towards refuge, towards the high garden walls where they can hide themselves deep in the labyrinthine green. A garden brew of emerald tinted greenery, shamrock leaves and rainbow colored rose bushes.

“Where are we going?” Sander finally protests and as Robbe lets go of Sander’s hand he takes stock of his surroundings.

“Woah”

Sander is in awe of this grassy fortress. The walls are high so much so that they feel like they are collapsing in on themselves and submerging the twosome in a foggy condensation.

Sander shivers.

“Fock, it's cold”

“Come now” Robbe nods his head signaling Sander to follow him deeper into this thorny environment.

“Where are we going?” Sander asks tentatively. A tad suspicious of Robbe but also certain that his fellow journeymen knows the way.

“It’s a surprise”  

“Is this the point of the story where I suddenly go missing?”

“What?” Robbe looks at Sander with a puzzled look.

“Am joking….. But don’t think I don’t know about the legends surrounding the lakes and forest here”

Robbe's face loses all its pink hue at the mention of those stories. Sander quickly recognizes his obvious fumble but it was merely an innocuous mention it was not meant to offend or besmirch his name.

“Umm am sorry, nevermind” Sander quickly throws out and starts moving deeper into the seafoam landscape.

“Ok prince, lead the way”

Robbe brushes off the uncomfortable mention and re-engages.

“Ok Duke, on the count of 3” and before Sander even has time to register the count Robbe takes off running deeper into refuge.

___________

Sander is panting by the time he catches up to Robbe.

They moved so fast between the juniper corridors and foggy condensation he isn’t even sure he knows how to get back out of the labyrinth but for now he pushes that thought out of his mind as he stands at the center of this garden universe surrounded by a rainbow colored flower bed.

He inhales and the scent of chrysanthemum, lillie and roses fill his nasal cavity. He licks his top lip and he swears he can taste the pollen in the air.

“It’s my favourite place in the palace”

“It's beautiful” Sander reassures Robbe.

“I planted these flower beds with my mother. It was the only thing that helped when he d-------”

Robbe cuts off the sentence abruptly.

“It took time but eventually they blossomed” He admits softly.

“These white florets here, they are the ones I picked out for your quarters”, Sander’s face instantly lights up with an innocent smirk when he realizes that Robbe picked out the flowers he's been drawing. Because of course he did, they’re beautiful.

Sander and Robbe stroll past bushes of red roses and Sander stops to clip one off the vine as he gently walks back to Robbe and begins to delicately push his hair behind his right ear and places the red rose atop of it.

Robbe just stares at Sander with big eyes and a dreamy gaze anticipating the next move.

“You know what I’m in the mood for?”

Robbe remains silent shaking his head back and forth.

Sander moves closer to Robbe, surrounding him.

Robbe drops his gaze focusing on the rosewood colored lilies beneath him.

He knows the moment is coming. Robbe can feel the heat of Sander breathe, glazing the side of his face moving towards his mouth when deep in the darkness he hears twigs break.

Robbe looks towards the ominous noise and takes one big step away from Sander and a few steps towards the sound.

Sander notices that Robbe suddenly seems flustered, weary and distracted.

“Ummm we should play a game”

“What? Right now? Why?” Sander retorts in a questionable elevated tone.

“Trust me” Robbe pleads with his signature pyrope orbs that guarantee to make Sander weak at the knees.

“Okay” Sanders states in defeat.

“Close your eyes”

Sander squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation almost childlike.

“When I count to three, open your eyes and come find me”

Sanders stands amongst the roses when he hears Robbe yell out “one” a few feet away from him.

A few seconds later he hears Robbe yell out “two” but his voice is more distant.

Lastly he hears him yell out “three” and when he opens his eyes he stands alone amongst the flower bed.

The red rose Sander placed behind Robbe’s ear lays on the ground in front of him. Sander picks it up and looks around.

Suddenly he is frightened.

The garden walls are high and the night is eerily silent.

“Robbe” Sander yells out into the darkness.

But nothing. Sander doesn’t hear any noise or callback.

Sander pops his head into every corridor but everything is so dark and identical looking that he doesn't dare leave the refuge of the rose garden.

He yells out for Robbe again but still nothing.

He waits another twenty minutes but the night is only growing colder and so he makes the call to head back to the palace and ask his hand, Younes to come back with him to search for Robbe in case he got lost or was hurt.

It took Sander many tries of winding corners and dead ends to find his way out of the garden maze. What easily took him and Robbe ten minutes to navigate; took Sander at least an hour to navigate his way out of.

As he reaches the entryway to the palace garden he sees a figure absconding towards the palace in haste, his locomotives appear unruly and he does not resemble Robbe at all from behind but those hickory manes are recognizable from over yonder.

“ROBBE” Sander yells out ferociously. Annoyed but relieved that Robbe was ok.

“Robbe stop” Sander speeds up towards the figure.

He sees the figure turn towards him and it is Robbe but Robbe takes a brief look at Sander with disinterest and continues on his way.

Sander sprints towards him for some sort of explanation about why he just abandoned him like that.

Sander finally catches up to him and as he tugs on his shoulder. He hears Robbe groan in obvious annoyance.

“What do you want?”

“Robbe what the hell you just left without saying anything…… I was worried”

Robbe's face is blank and unnerved.

“OOookay” Robbe rolls his eyes.

Sander shrugs his shoulders signaling for some deeper meaning or some type of closure.

“Ooookay” Sander repeats back to Robbe mimicking his juvenile ambivalence.

They stand in the darkness, frozen, sizing each other up.

“Is that all you needed to say to me my lord?”

Sander is so confused and angry. He feels like a fool and better yet he doesn't really have room to speak freely at least not in view of the palace guards.

In one last attempt Sander cuts in front of Robbe and speaks in a barely audible whisper.

“Robbe I just thought…...well I thought we both understood that we enjoyed one another’s company. I thought we had an understanding tonight.”

Sander boars his gaze straight into Robbe’s chocolate orbs as he lets the last sentence drip out of his mouth.

Robbe’s steps back and lets out a menacing laugh.

“Oh my lord, for an English man you truly are gullible”

“Tonight was just for show. You and I are just foes through arrangement. Nothing less, nothing more. Let us not pretend that you're anything but a visitor here with his own personal agenda. I was simply entertaining you at my fathers bidding. I thought you of all people would understand.”

Sander stood stoic. Not giving Robbe the satisfaction of showing him an inch of emotion.

Every word spewing out of Robbe’s mouth was meant to sting. Worse of all, Sander could tell Robbe was enjoying ridiculing him.

Once Robbe was done humiliating him and blundering the metaphorical knife deep into his chest cavity he wrapped up their exchange with a simple bid farewell.

As Robbe walked into the palace he turned around one last time to remind Sander.

“Get to bed my lord. Tomorrow we go hunting and god knows…. am in need of a good kill”

And with that Robbe disappears into the palace walls.

Sander can feel tears welling up. He is not upset because some boy played him. He just hates looking foolish and being the butt of someone’s joke.”

Sander gets a hold of his senses and storms through the palace towards his quarters.

As he slams his door shut the moonlight illuminates his sitting room and he sees the bouquet of white florets in the center of the room.

A sudden rage takes a hold of him and he grabs the vase and slams it on the ground. The remnants of the broken ceramic lay shattered at Sander’s feet and the white florets destroyed.

Before Sander can react he sees a silhouette in the corner of the room.

“Well well well someone had a bad night”

It’s the Marchioness Deruwe. Sander would recognize that voice anywhere.

“Britt am not in the mood”

“Oh now we are addressing one another with informalities” Britt mockingly points out.

“Leave, right now”

“Now now Sander I come bearing gifts. The Earl of Warwick has sent a message. He has approved and is willing to arrange a marriage to his daughter Isabel”

“What?!?!?!” This was unexpected Sander knew the Earl despised him.

“How is that possible? Edward would never allow me to side with Warwick. He is already suspicious of his dealings with the Lancastrians.”

“He doesn’t have to know. We would arrange your passage back to England in secret and your union would be solidified without Edward knowing.”

“That’s mad. Edward has sent me here with one objective in mind. We need the Burgundian iron to defeat Henry.”

“You and I both know the Burgundians will never give up the iron without getting something more than a simple marriage to Margaret. This is all for laughs. The Burgundians just want to know if they are backing the right horse.”

Sander knows Britt is right. Everyone involved knows that the Burgundians will never give up the iron without a proper incentive.

“Why are you helping me, Britt? You’re a yorkist flower, what do you gain from pushing me onto the side of the Lancastrians?”

“We all have a part to play Sander. I need to hedge my bets and have as many options as possible. My husband is a complete idiot but our money is not everlasting and we all have something to gain from this war.”

Sander shook his head in agreement. It was rare to see Britt be so sincere but her tone was definitive. She had her own secrets and people to protect.

“When you have a response for the Earl, send a note my way. I will make sure it crosses the channel”.

Britt saunters towards the door when Sander can’t help but show his hand.

“The Prince of Swords. What's his game?”

Britt pauses and looks back at Sander puzzled but curious.

“The Prince, don’t underestimate him; he is a great strategist and has the ability to command an army if need be.”

“Does he want to be king like his father?”

“No he does not but his people want him to. They respect him. They speak of his kindness and fairness above all. He also quells the fears of a French invasion; he has been betrothed to the Princess of France since he was a child. The people call their union the great love story. Betrothed since birth and genuinely a love marriage. Nice for some I guess....”

Sander gives Britt an ambivalent chuckle. A love marriage? What a foreign concept for both of them.

“Is that all?” Sander tacks on to the end of the conversation. Egging on Britt’s conniving ways,

“Does he have any secrets?” Sander finally just asks.

“No, he is clean. If you were to ask me to clean. Everyone is hiding something but it seems like the Prince of Swords is perfect.”

“There is no such thing. Everyone has a secret”

“Exactly” Britt agrees.

“Find out whatever the Prince is hiding and you’ll have the iron and maybe even the chance to be king. All you have to do is to get him to trust you and as soon as he does take the iron away from him.”

Sander nods in agreement.

“Play the Prince at his own game” Sander states with venom in his voice and continues.

“In the end.....” 

“I only have one goal”

“To make the prince regret he ever met me.”

[flying-nightwing]

Damn Him

Hi, this is average af but I needed to post something. You’ll probably be disappointed lmao. Anyway, enjoy some Dick Grayson content!

More on my masterlist, pinned as a top post!

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

Word count: 4798

Warnings: None

Summary: Dick Grayson never seems to say the right thing around you, and it’s not quite for the reason you initially thought

You looked up from your book when your cellphone vibrated on your desk beside you. You were in the midst of studying for your last exam of the semester, so you had your phone on a strict do not disturb schedule, which meant it remained on 24/7. Your notifications were blocked for any social media, text or calls you might receive, well, except for your one emergency contact: Bruce Wayne. He knew he was supposed to contact you only if he had no other choice but ask for your help, and never had he even used that card ever since you knew him. Reluctantly, you put down you book and marker to switch them for your phone. Turning on the screen, you ignored the various hidden notifications, focusing only on the single line that stared back at you.

Call me when you can - B.

Sighing, you unlocked your phone and pressed the contact name, then the phone icon next to it. It rang twice before Bruce picked up.

"(Y/N), how are you?"

"A bit stressed out, but it could be worse" You replied truthfully. "What's up?"

"I hope you know I wouldn't do this if I had any other solution" He began. "But I need your help on a recon mission, almost all my effective got busted last night"

"Oh my, are they okay?" You frowned with concern, even if he couldn't see you.

"Yes, don't worry" He said, "I'll explain in person, that is if you agree to come. I'd understand if you refused, though"

You rubbed the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes for a second. You owed a lot to Bruce, and since it was a simple recon stakeout, you could take one or two nights off to help him out. You were already ahead of schedule in your studying and confident in your knowledge of the material.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be there" You finally answered. "What time do you want me over?"

"As soon as you can"

"Aight, see ya"

You hung up the phone and put it back on your desk, observing it for a second. It had been gifted to you by Bruce after you began going on missions more regularly with the batlings, he said that way he knew for sure all communications would be secure and sheltered from hacking or government surveillance. You had to admit, having an encrypted phone was pretty neat, as it ran entirely on Wayne Enterprises servers and networks. The simple thought of not having to suffer through youtube ads was satisfactory enough on its own to justify the need for it, even if you didn't join missions as much as you used to.

You finally stood up and went to change from your yoga pants and loose tank top to black jeans and a sweater, then jumped in your car and drove to the manor. You punched in your code at the gate and took the right to the garages, where you entered a second code to open the doors. Your car was several notches under those parked there, but you had to have something less flashy as not to attract too much attention. Still, it was more than a majority of college students even had. You had to thank Bruce for that too. He wasn't your adopted father per say, since he found you a few days before your eighteenth birthday, but he still acted like a guardian and mentor for you.

You jogged down to the batcave, where you instantly spotted a chatty blonde sprawled in a seat, making wild gesture. She sprung up straight at the sound of you coming in and her face split in a wide grin. She jumped on her feet and skipped toward you.

"Hey giiiiirl" She drawled out excitedly. "Long time no see!"

"Hey Steph" You chuckled, going for the hug. "Sorry I didn't call, I have no excuses"

"Don't worry about it" She waved off with an airy laugh. She knew how busy school kept you, and how you kind of wanted to separate yourself fromthe vigilante life. "I'm just glad you're here"

"So am I" Bruce called from the computers. He gave you a subtle smile, and you nodded back to him. "It seems like we're in a bit of an impasse here"

You didn't miss the quick glare he sent to Tim and Steph, who sheepishly avoided looking back at him. It didn't seem too serious though, or the air would have drastically changed.

"Before he says anything, know it wasn't our fault" Steph hurried to say.

"We were totally ambushed by Vicky Vale" Tim nodded along."No idea what she did there, but she was, and she saw right through our disguises.We had to bolt before she exposed us"

You frowned in confusion. "Okay can someone tell me what is going on here?"

"Tim and Steph were supposed to go undercover and cozy up with the high leaders of what I have suspicions on good authority are transiting premium grade opium into the US and Europe, and are close partners to Count Vertigo" Bruce began, already exhausted. "But as they said, Vicky Vale was somehow invited to the banquet and singled them out immediately before they could get even near the big guys"

"My magnificent blond mane attracts way too much attention, I'm afraid" Steph sighed sadly, making you chuckle. "It's a curse, babes. I tell ya"

"Keep telling yourself that, Stephi" A new voice came from the top of the stairs. You both wanted suddenly to go back to your books as a big part of why you barely tag along on missions anymore skipped down the stairs. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. "We all know covert missions are not your strong point"

"I'm gonna kill you in your sleep, Grayson" She smiled sweetly at him.

"No, because you suck at being subtle" He returned the grin, just as sweetly if not more. He ruffled her hair as he passed by. "What's up Timbo"

He hummed something unintelligible, flipping his brother off. Dick laughed, then almost added something when he finally noticed you. His laughter died down and his eyes widened, and suddenly he looked uncomfortable. "Oh, you're here"

"So it seems" You replied as flatly as he spoke. It wasn't new, you had never known how to act around each other. Did you hate him? Of course not, you had absolutely no reason to. Did you consider him your friend? Hard to say. All you knew was that any and every encounter you had with Dick Grayson was awkward. You got along with Tim just fine, and even Jason when he was still around. You loved Cass and Duke, and you even managed to get on Dami's good side, or most of the time anyway. But Dick remained a mystery to you, one that had eluded you for years now. You didn't understand a single thing about that boy, and you doubted you ever would. You've had conversations before, loads of them, and you had no doubt he would make an amazing friend, but you couldn't seem to get past the stage of acquaintances.

Which was frankly disappointing, because you had been instantly attracted by his charms and easygoing nature when you first met. You had been drawn to him, and you couldn't try and pretend you hadn't pinned after him for the longest time. But you hit a wall when his behaviour began changing wildly around you, right around the time you slipped flirts every now and then to let him know that you were into him. Right now, you were just really over his poor attempts at pretending he never noticed it happen.

"So" Bruce spoke up, breaking the tension that had suddenly arisen in the cave. "Tomorrow night we'll have a new opening to try and get to them, hopefully without interruption this time. I've taken a look at the list, and no reporter was on it. We should be good"

"But Tim and Steph already got busted" You pointed out. "They'll know something is up if they show up again"

"That's why they will be seen at the Gotham Charity Auction at the museum" He explained, meeting your eyes. "That's why I called you up. You'll be going undercover with Dick as husband and wife"

"What?" Dick coughed almost immediately. "We're not–" He laughed nervously. "Us? As a married couple? This is ridiculous"

Your head turned sharply toward him, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Wow, thanks a lot for the vote of confidence" You snapped. "I didn't know being my fake husband was such a terrible perspective"

"No– Wait– That's not–" He stuttered, his eyes wide. "I didn't mean it that way"

"Sure" You rolled your eyes, before turning to Bruce again. He had an unreadable expression on his face, more unreadable than usually anyway. Tim and Steph stood there in stunned silence, not daring to speak up. "What's the briefing?"

Bruce glanced in between you and Dick, before looking back at you again. "Félix Lachance and Stella Gustavsson, they're the one you need to befriend. Since you're not known to the public, it'll be easier for Dick to pass under the radar and not cause an incident like last time"

"We get it, B" Tim muttered under his breath as Bruce passed you the files with the pictures.

"I need you to retrieve any information you can" He continued, ignoring Tim's comment. "Names of business partners, location of transactions, dates, anything, you know the gig. Your occupation and alias if you want one will be at your discretion, I trust you can deal with that. As always you need to be extremely careful as not to alert them, because this is our last chance to get the critical Intel we need to take this down. So I'll need you at your A game, both of you"

This was a warning and you knew it. He let you know more or less subtly to put aside whatever was happening between you and behave like adults. You straightened your back and took a deep breath, getting your head in the right mindset.

"Alright, I'll be ready for tomorrow night" You nodded as you gathered the files. "Can I stay over tonight? There is no point in trying to study now"

"You don't need to ask, (Y/N), you're always welcome here" Bruce said, a hint of fondness in his voice. He always liked having you around, he said your presence tamed the boys. You nodded and made your way upstairs, finding the room you claimed as your own for about a year, and the same you always came back to when you stayed the night.

You went to the drawers, fishing out old training clothes you had left behind. You weren't sure all those were yours, they were probably mixed with pieces you stole from Steph and Cass. In return, they probably did also steal from your drawer occasionally, balancing it all out. You were about to change into something comfy for bed when a soft knock at your door caught your attention. You walked to it and tentatively opening the door, your expression flattening when you saw how it was.

"Yes?"

"Hey um" Dick scratched the back of his neck. "I just wanted to say, I'm sorry it came out that way. I just meant that it would be, you know, weird"

You stared at him blankly. "You're not helping your case here, Dick"

"Shit, that's not what I mean either!" He hurried to say, realizing his mistake. But you were already closing the door. "Please (Y/N)–"

"Get some rest Dick" You said as you pushed the door closed. You sighed and shook your head before adding in a whisper, "God knows we'll need it"

------

You had done covert missions before, but this was the first time you were operating in such conditions. You finished retouching your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering whether or not it was more expensive than your total life income. The floor length champagne coloured dress was stunning, tailored to your form and just sparkly enough to let you shine through the design. You suspected the shoes were made especially to fit with the dress, as they resembled its lace and belt colour. You were sporting on top of that a heavy diamond necklace with matching earrings, proving the general high cost of the outfit. Your comm was carefully tucked in your ear, functional and well hidden.

"Oh my my" Steph whistled lowly. "If I wasn't dating Timbers I would date you"

You laughed. "This is the outfit talking. You haven't seen me tired and puffy in sweatpants just yet"

"Grump, just take the damn compliment" She playfully poked your exposed shoulder.

"Alright alright, thanks" You rolled your eyes. "Since it's gonna be the only one coming from this household anyway"

Steph wiggled her eyebrows. "Wouldn't be so sure about that" She said in a sing-song voice. "Your fake boyfriend may have some thoughts too"

"Ha" You snorted, walking out of your room with her following at your side. "It's good, that you're wishful thinking. The boy can't seem to talk to me without insulting me lately"

"Trust me, he won't be able to resist to this bombshell" She gestured at your form. "Dick's a people pleaser, and looking like a whole five course meal like that, you sure are easy to please if you want my opinion"

You shook your head, a small grin on your face. Steph had always been your favourite for a reason. She knew how you felt about Dick, but she never meddled. Well, not more than she typically would anyway, and not enough to cross your boundaries. And even then, she had no explanation either for his behaviour. You finally reached the foyer, where Bruce was dressed casually, sleeves rolled up and without a tie, talking to an all dressed up Dick, his hair now dark red and with almost black contact lenses. Your heels clicking on the stairs was what snapped their attention to you; Bruce nodding at his choice of dress for you, and Dick, his mouth slightly agape. You felt Steph gently but excitedly elbowing your ribs.

"Ah, (Y/N), there you are" Bruce said. "I'm glad to see the dress fits well"

"Yeah" Dick tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "You look okay"

You blinked in disbelief as you heard Steph's facepalm behind you. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose, while Bruce shook his head slightly at his son.

"Yikes" Tim made his presence known. You shared this one word mood immensely right about now. "Way to go D"

Dick cleared his throat, trying to push back the embarrassment blush creeping up his cheeks. "Uh, shall we go?"

"That would be preferable, yes" Bruce replied, making Steph choke and cover he laughter with a cough. The way he said it was clearly meant to be a jab to his son's tactless attitude. "Be careful"

"Of course" You smiled tightly and all but dragged Dick outside. You'd take one of Bruce's luxury car to get there, and it was already waiting in the driveway. Dick pressed the door button and slowly, they lifted up to let you in. You slid in the passenger seat without waiting for Dick's help and you kept your eyes on the windshield in from of you as he began to drive. The ride was silent until he decided to speak again, tentatively.

"It's nice to see you all dressed up, for once" He said, still clearly not thinking of his choice of words more carefully. "It's different. A good different!"

For once? Was he serious?

You audibly sighed. "I'm begging you to just stop talking"

"What?" He objected, confused. "What did I say wrong this time– Oh"

"Yeah" You replied, your tone clipped and dry.

"I'm an idiot" He mumbled under his breath. That you could agree on, but you didn't voice it out loud.

He couldn't pull into the driveway fast enough. You slipped on your fake engagement ring as Dick stopped in front of the awaiting valet, doing himself the same thing. You both had a recording device slipped in your clothes, and the ring allowed you to turn it on and off at will, as well as the comm in your ear. You turned both off for the awaiting scan at the entrance, as not to emit detectable frequencies.

"Ready?" He asked, and you gave him a firm nod. He got out first and rounded the car, opening your door for you as he would be expected to by this particular crowd. You took his offered hand to climb out and linked your arm to his as he gave the keys to the valet in exchange for a ticket. He left a tip before you walked inside, registering to the guest list. You passed the security checkpoint without a hassle and found yourself in the hall where the auction was held. You turned on your comm and recording device again.

"Recon first, then regroup?" You suggested in a mutter as you were both visually scanning the room.

"Yep" He replied shortly. "B, copy?"

"Crystal clear" 

"Good. Let's go"

While Dick headed to the bar, you opted for the art collection on display, pretending to scout for potential pieces to bid on. But your eyes weren't on the expensive paintings and statues, but moved around the room to spot some VIP lounge or area where the big shots might hang out at. There was a room where attendees came and went, but you shrugged it off as there wasn't enough security for the profile you were searching for. You paused your recon for small talk here and there, and you were in the middle of a casual chat about painted landscapes with an older gentleman when Dick rejoined your side, handing you a drink.

"There you are honey" He smiled sweetly, his unusually dark brown eyes reflecting the light from the chandelier.

"Joey, my love, allow me to introduce you to Sir Fernand Bretworth of Essex" His alias flew out of your mouth naturally, then you took a small sip of your drink. Non alcoholic, nice thinking. "We were discussing impressionism and its influence on modern art"

You wanted to smirk at the clueless look Dick gave you. He was a prodigy in a lot of things, but art wasn't one. It was more Damian's thing, or Tim's if he tried hard enough, but definitely not Dick's. Take that now. 

"Ah, yes..." He replied slowly. "Fascinating indeed"

"Alright" You let out a small, cover up laugh as your hand rested on his bicep. "My husband has little interest in art, my apologies"

"No offence taken" He chuckled. "I'll leave you two, my wife must be looking for me. An old fool like me gets easily distracted!"

You laughed along with him until he was out of earshot. Then you dropped your hand and turned to him. "Noticed anything?"

"Yeah, there is a guarded room with special access" He said as you walked deeper into the crowd not to look suspicious. "Only owned of a special pass can go in, and the guards are very thorough"

"Great" You breathed. "Now let's hope out lovebirds will come out to mingle"

"As it turns out..." He trailed off, and instinctively, you began turning your head toward where his gaze lead. He immediately redirected your head back to him with a firm, but gentle touch on your cheek. His hand remained there for about three seconds longer than necessary, until he realized what he did and retracted his arm. You could have almost enjoyed it if he didn't look like he was touched by literal fire. "Don't look"

"Sorry" You mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"... They got out, they're talking to people" He informed you, ignoring what just went down. "You go for Stella, I'll take Felix. Remember, friendly but not suspicious. Sweet talk your way into spilling the beans"

"I know" You bit back, your voice low. "Not my first mission, remember? I know what to do"

"I was just reminding you"

"Yeah, I got that" You scoffed. "If you don't trust me, just say so, it'll save you trouble of babying me"

"Come on, that's not–"

He began arguing, but you walked away before you could slip up and say his real name. It would give him one more reason to come down on you like you were a beginner in need of guidance. You were rusty, not stupid. You didn't need him insulting your undercover talents as well. You stopped in front of a beautiful emerald necklace that had a start bid of ten millions dollars and took a long sip of your drink, now kind of bummed it was non alcoholic. But that very detail was probably why you felt a presence approaching you from behind, giving you a few seconds to compose yourself and sweep your frustration under the rug.

"Trouble in paradise?"

You turned around, surprised. It looked like the voice made you jump, when it was in fact the nature of the question that threw you off, as well as the person who had spoken. Before you could ask, the Stella Gustavsson smiled warmly and nodded to where Dick had been seconds earlier.

"I saw what happened" She began, and your heart skipped a beat, hoping she hadn't overheard. "Those frustrated hands gesture are all too familiar. What did he do?"

You relaxed slightly, for now. "We've been having trouble lately, well, more than usually" You explained with a little complicit cock of your head. She seemed to get it. You, on the other hand, knew Dick was hearing everything on his comm, so you decided to go for it. "He's acting... Weird. Can't seem to talk to me without irritating me, whether on purpose or not. I'm sorry, I'm venting to a stranger, I can't imagine how it must look look like.

"Don't worry about it dear, I asked" She winked, extending her hand. "I'm Stella"

"Aleka" You shook her hand.

"Your dress is stunning, by the way!" She exclaimed. "Which designer?”

You froze for a second before shrugging. "No idea, my designer got it for me" You brushed off. "As long as it looks good, I don't care where it comes from"

"Amen" She said, taking a sip of her champagne. "Although, I need to know the name of your designer. They have amazing taste, and I'm looking for a new one for myself"

Oh shit.

"It's B" You replied instantly.

"Bee?"

"Yeah" You nodded, and she looked at you incredulously. "I mean, that's what we all call him. I'm sure he has a name, but I pay him to dress me, not to know his personal life"

"Harsh, (Y/N)" Bruce said in your ear, and you remembered he had been listening to everything. "But nice save"

She laughed, unaware of the comments from Batman himself. "That is very true. How have I not met you before? I feel we have a lot in common"

"I sincerely have no idea" You replied, adding a little gasp of disbelief.

"You're different from this crowd, I can feel it" She kept going on as you started walking side by side in the exposition room. "Everyone here only cares about petty, trivial things. You have a head on your shoulders, you're smart. Too bad your man can't seem to see what's in front of him"

You sighed in agreement to hide the fist pump of victory that threatened to come up. Just like that, you had won Stella over. "I don't know what to do about it. I've tried to talk to him, but it just makes it worse"

"But have you tried to make him jealous?" She suggested with a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "There are plenty of young men around, or older bachelors if you're into that. Flirt with them, make sure he sees you, he'll come running, take my word"

"It won't work, he's not–" Even my boyfriend, you were about to say, but you saved your fall just on time. Still, you could practically see Dick's glare in the back of your head at the almost slip up. "Jealous. He's not a jealous man, he's very confident and secure"

"What a shame" She drawled out, going for her champagne again. "Here's what you can do then. Go to him, take him by the neck and french kiss him like there is no tomorrow”

You choked on your saliva as she watched you with a mischievous grin. "Excuse me?"

"It's guaranteed to work, darling" She lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. "Then you hold him off. You'll thank me later tonight when you're back at home, just wait and see"

You were about to argue some more, but her insisting stare told you she wasn't just going to let it go. So you scanned the crowd for Dick, spotting him casually excusing himself from a conversation group, going for a refill at the bar. You reached him and grabbed him by the elbow, bringing him face to face with you. You made sure your back was to Stella before beginning to explain the situation.

"I heard" He told you in a mutter, making sure his lips were unreadable under Stella's stare from the distance.

"Then you know what she expects" You sighed, slipping your hands behind his neck. "It doesn't have to be deep, just convincing. Can you do this without grimacing?"

You thought he would stumble into some weak apology, or say something clever. He did neither, instead dived straight for your lips so quickly it was you who was taken by surprise. Naturally, all you could do is kiss him back and try to keep up with him. At some point you thought he would break off, but you weren't prepared for him to actually deepen the kiss. He wasn't letting you go, and it made you dizzy in all the best ways. Let's say you were thankful for his arm around your waist right about now. Finally, you still had to breathe, so you parted reluctantly.

"What was that for?" You asked, your eyes still dazed.

"An apology for irritating you unintentionally" He grinned boyishly, for probably the first time ever directed at you. "I'm an idiot"

"Can confirm" You replied, bringing him down on your lips again. This time, it was a bit shorter, but the spark was still very much present. "You should have done this a long time ago"

"I know" He nodded, his head slightly down and his puppy dog eyes shining even underneath the dark contact lenses. "You're a bit intimidating, I didn't know how to act"

You let out a loud laugh at his confession. "You're kidding"

He pouted.

"Me?" You repeated. "But you're– You're you!"

"Well, duh" He chuckled. "You've got me all tangled in here," He pointed at his chest. "Made me nervous all the time"

You melted just a little bit at his little display, before remembering doing this was a specialty of his. You were just not used to be on the receiving end of it. "You're lucky you're cute, and that I'm already sold on you"

The bright grin returned.

"As heartwarming as this moment is, please focus on the task at hand" Bruce's stern voice echoed in your head, and you were suddenly reminded your conversation had been integrally transmitted to him.

"Right, sorry" Dick apologized sheepishly.

"See, I told you"

This time, you were taken by surprise by Stella walking on you. Even Bruce's intervention hadn't quite brought you back to reality. Damn Dick Grayson, damn him. You turned around, trying to hide your flustered state and instead focusing on the tall gentleman at her side. Must be Felix Lachance, you thought.

"It works every time" She added, sipping from a new glass of champagne.

"You were right" You let out an airy laugh. "Stella, this is my husband Joey Moore. Joey, this is my new friend Stella"

They shook hands before she introduced her husband to the both of you. You already knew his name, but you both pretended you didn't for the sake of your covers.

"Nice to meet you two" Félix smiled politely.

"Hey, would you like to go for a drink after this?" Stella asked. "I sure would like to get to know you two better"

Dick and you exchanged a glance, knowing you had locked the target. Acquiring intel from now on would only be a piece of cake, the base was laid for further actions. You smiled, returning your glance to Stella.

"That would be absolutely lovely"

[brax-was-here]

Scarlet Briar: The Seeds of Life Chapter 13

Written by: Braxxus

Chapter 13: I Could Stare at the Stars Forever

Sometimes we never forget our friends

“We have to stop.” Liathlas gasped as she collapsed to the ground. “I need to rest.”

“I understand.” Ceara said as she herself was sore from carrying Caelan’s limp body. Liathlas had opened portal after portal, transporting them as fast as she could through the jungle towards Rata Sum.

“You would think…” Liathlas started trying to catch her breath. “You would think we should see some Asura somewhere here this close to the city.” Ceara nodded in agreement as she sat against a fallen tree trunk.

“Ma…Madam Scarlet…leave me…I’m not…not worth the trouble.” Caelan wheezed.

“Quiet…and close that fly catcher.” Ceara snapped back. She stared at the ground for a moment. “Everyone…everyone makes mistakes.” She spoke looking at the asuran cube in the distance. “Some of us…” She cut her eyes far away, looking at the faint silhouette of the Pale Tree far in the distance towering above the horizon. “Some of us make mistakes so gravely that we wonder how we’re forgiven.”

“I…I’m not…not worthy.” Caelan gasped.

“Nor was I.” Ceara replied. “But…a mender with a heart as gentle as a butterfly saved me.” She paused a moment staring at her mother in the distance. “He said he could see into my heart… and see the good in it. He told me…” She thought for a moment, lowering her gaze to the ground before her. “He told me I should let it show.” She paused. “But it’s so difficult sometimes.”

“Is it?” Liathlas said to her. “Look at what you have done since I’ve met you. Look at what you are doing now.” Liathlas motioned towards Caelan. Ceara nodded lightly.

“This doesn’t look like the actions of the the ‘Terror of Tyria’” Liathlas stated.

 “An acquaintance once told me ‘You can fly if you try leaving the past behind.’” She stood, turning to the jungle behind her. “’You can’t step into the future if you remain tied to the past’ she said to me. Maybe it’s time I tried to do that.”

“What’s the plan when we reach Rata Sum?” Liathlas stood.

“I know a couple Asura that will help. We need to get him to Bloodtide Coast.” Ceara motioned towards Caelan.

“Bloodtide Coast!? That’s so far away. Why there?” Liathlas asked confused.

“To take him to the mender that rescued me.” Ceara answered.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nafiona walked commandingly into the great hall of Twilight Arbhor, an area of Caledon Forest taken over by the Nightmare Court. Formally their base of operations, it mostly lies empty as the death of the Court’s Grand Duchess, Faolain, splintered the group into warring factions.

“Once this arbor was a grand place.” She spoke fondly of her home. “And then Faolain let Scarlet Briar take over part of it for her plans.”

“Had we known what those plans were, I’m sure Faolain would have objected.” Her subordinate Ordhram replied.

“We all would have objected.” She added. “Now, bring me the sword.”

“Yes, m’lady.” Ordhram bowed to her and hurried off down a corridor. She watched him disappear into the darkness before turning her attention to the hall.

“Faolain would hold court here.” She spoke to herself. “But soon…soon this will be mine. The Nightmare Court will be mine.” She held her hand up in front of her, the soft glowing seed in her grasp.

“Grand Duchess Nafiona.” She whispered, smiling slyly at the thought. “Hit has a nice ring to it. Sila!” she called to one of the mesmers.

“Yes, m’lady?” the sylvari ran up to her and bowed.

“Send word to the dukes and duchesses of the Court. Tell them I wish we all to call a truce amongst our parties so that we may meet and discuss how we could all work together once again to further our ideas.”

               “Of course, m’lady. Right away.” Nafiona turned back to the seed as Sila teleport away.  “They’ll see the folly of their ways. Once I show them the power I hold, they will have no choice but to fall in line.” She paused as she heard footsteps approaching.

“M’lady.” Ordhram’s voice was calm. She turned to see him kneel before her presenting a sword wrapped in heavy leaves. She stored the seed in a satchel and started unwrapping the large, bladed weapon.

“Ordhram, it’s perfect.” She spoke softly as she gazed upon the great sword, a dark weapon forged in the same manner as the legendary sword Caladbolg, only this time from a vine of Mordremoth. Nafiona pulled the seed from her bag and placed it at the pommel of the hilt. Dark vines reached for it, wrapping around it and pulling it taut. An ear-piercing shriek emitted from the blade that echoed through the halls of the arbor. Nafiona smiled as she watched Ordhram grimaced from the sound. A shockwave of dark energy erupted from the greatsword knocking him away. Nafiona stared victoriously at the weapon that floated before her.

“And now.” She spoke as she gingerly reached for the hilt, its dark energy enveloping her as she took the weapon. She closed her eyes as the dark power coursed through her.

“M’lady?” Ordhram asked as he stood.

“Ordhram. It’s magical.” She spoke softly as she opened her eyes. “You have done well.”

“Thank you, m’lady.” He bowed deep.

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Your help is greatly appreciated.” Liathlas said to the older asura as the small craft approached the docks at Antidawn Anchorage, the western most section of the Rata Sum ports. The dock area was alit brightly as long shadows were cast by the setting sun.  

“Don’t mention it.” His voice gruff from years of working on the water. As they neared the wooden structure, one of the asura on the craft tossed a rope around a dock tie and tied it securely. Others helped carefully remove Caelan from the boat, laying him on the dock.

“We need a stretcher here!” the asura called out. A couple members of the peacemakers approached quickly, calling on a communication device.

“Now you…” the asura pointed at Ceara. “I think you need to see about getting some proper clothing. I know you flowers are all about living with the plants and trees, but around here, walking around naked isn’t exactly proper.”

“I’m fully aware. Thank you.” Ceara snapped back playfully.

“I’m sure you are.” He rebuttled. Ceara and Liathlas watched as a medical crew loaded Caelan onto a hovering platform.

“Get him to medical now!” one of the officers ordered before turning to the sylvari duo. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to help him. We don’t have people who specialize in sylvari on hand.”

“I know a mender that can help him, but whatever you do, do not let Vorpp near him.” Ceara demanded. “We just need a couple waypoint devices to get Caelan to Bloodtide Coast.”

“Well, I can’t help you with that.”

“It’s ok.” Ceara looked at the asura gate in the distance that would take them into Rata Sum. “I know someone who will. Where are you taking him?”

“He’ll be in a medical facility nearby.” The asura turned and pointed at a small building not far. “That building there. I’ll tell them to have him prepped for transport.”

“Thank you, officer.” Ceara motioned to Liathlas. “Let’s go.”

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Professor Stigga sat in his office in the College of Synergetics when his intercom beeped. He reached over and pressed the holographic button. “I’m busy. It will have to wait.” He pressed the button again. Seconds later it beeped again. He took a deep breath and pressed it again. “What is it?”

“Professor. I’m sorry, but you have visitors. And-“

“I don’t have time for them. Tell them to come back later.” He barked, pressing the button again.

“I swear, everytime-“ he started.

“Professor! I need your help!” a voice suddenly shouted from his doorway. In an instant Stigga jumped out of his chair and was hiding behind his desk. He peeked out to see Ceara standing nearly naked in his doorway.

“You!” he shouted back. “What are you doing here!? And where are your clothes!?”

“Professor, We need waypoint devices quickly!”

Stigga walked out from behind his console straightening his clothing. “Why did you come to me? You can build your own…” He paused looking at her, his eyes thinning in thought. “You…you got into some trouble and now all your toys are gone. That’s what happened, isn’t it?” He shook his finger at her.

“Professor!”

“Hang on!” he shouted. He flipped a switch on his desk. “Stop whatever you are destroying right now and come to my office immediately.” he ordered. “And bring some waypoint devices with you.”

“Are we going out in the field again!?” a familiar voice said on the other end.

“No, just get to my office with what I asked.” He reiterated.

A light sigh was heard. “Yes, professor.” Shikijo’s voice dripped with disappointment. Stigga flipped the switch.

“Now…” he turned to Ceara. “Please get some clothes on.”

“I don’t have any, Professor.”

“You know where to find some.” He barked at her.

Ceara looked at Liathlas, who was on the verge of giggling. “What are you laughing at?” she asked as she turned and moved down the hallway.

“Because I know that you were a student here, and to see you slip back into being a student was quite endearing.”

Ceara stopped abruptly, turning to Liathlas, holding her finger to her face. “I was not.” She said to her. Liathlas smirked at her.

“Get dressed!” they heard Stigga yell from his office.

“Gah!”  Ceara turned and marched to a washroom nearby, Liathlas behind her. She threw the doors open to a closet and began sifting through the various articles of clothing. All of which was much too small for her.

“How am I supposed to find anything that fits in here. It’s all made for Asura.”

“Well, maybe this?” Liathlas unhooked a curtain from a bathtub.

“Now what am I going to do with that?”

“Well, you can wrap it around you like this.” Liathlas wrapped it around her body. “And hook it here, and you have a makeshift dress.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Well, what else are you going to do?”

Ceara sighed. “Fine.” She took the curtain from Liathlas and wrapped it around herself, securing it so it wouldn’t fall. She looked at Liathlas. “This never happened or so help me I will end you.”

Liathlas giggled again. They returned back to Stigga’s office to find the asuran duo Joujou and Shikijo standing near Stigga’s desk.

“Ceara!” Joujou shouted. She ran over to the sylvari.

“It’s good to see you again.” Ceara smiled at the asura. She noticed an inquisitive look on Shikijo’s face.

“Pardon me for asking, Ms. Ceara, but…why are you wearing a shower curtain?” he inquired.

Stigga looked over his glasses at her, shaking his head slightly before turning back to his monitor. “Ok, you two. Give Ceara and her friend the waypoint devices then get back to the lab. You have to finish that thermodisplacement transference modulator by tomorrow.”

Joujou handed the devices to Ceara. “Um, we’re going to need one more.” Ceara stated.

“Why? There’s only two of you here.” Stigga questioned while writing on a parchment.

“There is a another that needs one. He’s been injured and we need to take him to a mender.”

“You didn’t mention that part.”

“You never asked how many we needed.” Ceara rebuttled.

Stigga huffed profusely and opened a drawer in his desk. “Here.” He produced a waypoint device that had seen better days and handed to her.

“That’s my personal device. I better get it back.”

Ceara stared at it in her hand. “It looks to be about as old as you are.” She joked.

“Get out.” He ordered.  

“Ceara, what are you doing? You have an injured sylvari? Is there something we can help with?” Joujou asked.

“Well, we’re about to go save the world from the Nightmare Court. We could use the help.” She answered.

“Oh no you don’t. These two are staying right here. They have work to finish in the lab.”

“But professor?” Joujou protested.

“It would be a good chance to test the Betaray 3000.” Shikijo added.

“The Betaray 3000?” Ceara’s interest piqued. “What is that?”

“It’s a device that fires a concentrated beam of leyline energy. Sadly, we haven’t been able to perfect the device just yet. The results of the effects of the beam have been…umm…random at best.” Shikijo replied.

“You are playing with the very essence of magic itself. Without a focus, of course the outcome would be random.” Liathlas interjected.

“Hmm…” Shikijo rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Anyway, there’s no time to waste. The more we stay here, the more time Nafiona has to complete whatever she has planned.

Stigga rolled his eyes, as he watched his students rush out of his office.

“Ok, I’ll take Caelan to the mender in Bloodtide. You three head to Zinder’s Slope in Brisban and wait for me there.” Ceara ordered as they exited the building.

“Why Zinder’s Slope? Why not directly to Twilight Arbor?” Liathlas questioned.

Ceara stopped and gestured to herself with her hands. “Not exactly the best outfit to wear to a fight. Especially against a necromancer.”

“Well, that’s true.” Liathlas agreed.

“You two ready?” Ceara asked the asura.

“Ready as we’ll ever be!” Joujou exclaimed.

“We took down an aspect of Mordremoth! Nothing can stop us!” Shikijo boasted.

Ceara stared at them a moment.

“I…am FOREVER!” echoed through her mind. She closed her eyes, forcing the memory from her thoughts.

“Good. You three go. I’ll head to the medical building near the docks to retrieve Caelan.” She watched as they set their devices and disappeared in a flash of light.

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I could stare at the stars forever.” Wilda said as she gazed towards the sky.

“It is indeed a beautiful sight.” Seoras commented as he sipped from his wine.

“What do you think is out there? Other worlds like ours? Filled with strange creatures and wonderous landscapes?” she asked wispfully.

“Scarlet Briar.” He replied quietly.

Wilda fell silent, pausing a moment before slowly turning her gaze to Seoras somewhat confused. “What?” she asked in bewilderment. Seoras pointed to the edge of the village. Wilda could see Ceara’s prominent glow approaching, carrying someone over her shoulder.

“You really…” Ceara gasped trying to catch her breath. “You really need a closer waypoint.”

Seoras stood. “What happened?”

“He needs help. Quickly.” Ceara said trying to catch her breath.

“Get him inside.” Seoras helped Ceara carrying the courtier into his home. They placed him on the same bed where Ceara had resided months before.

“Wilda, get my things.” Seoras ordered. He looked Caelan over, checking his eyes.

“Mender…” Caelan said quietly.

“Don’t talk.” Seoras spoke softly.

Wilda approached holding a tray full of bottles containing various oils and medicines.

“Mender, I’ll leave him with you. I have other commitments to take care of that need my attention.” Ceara turned to leave.

“Wherever the adventure takes you.” He mentioned as he worked.

“Heh.” Ceara smiled.

“Ceara?” he asked. She turned him. He pointed at a small shelf. She looked at the pile of simple clothing she had left behind from her last visit.

“Change your clothes before you leave.” He ordered her. “Whatever that is you’re wearing doesn’t suit you.”

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You don’t think she went to fight the Nightmare Court without us, do you?” Shikijo asked, a look of concern had befallen his face.

“Well, she did pull that stunt before. Running off to Lion’s Arch to fight the Aspect without us.” Joujou responded.

“The aspect?” Liathlas asked. The three had taken a seat at a nearby table after arriving at the sylvari village in Zinder’s Slope.

“Yes, a fascinating creature…and quite dangerous.”

“It was a part of Ceara’s mind fused with the power of the jungle dragon. It somehow gained its own sentience and eventually separated itself from her.”

“That’s horrible.” Liathlas muttered. “And she went to fight this thing by herself?” Both Joujou and Shikijo nodded. “How did she stop it?”

“We helped her, along with some others. We figured out that Kralkatorrik’s resonating crystals could disrupt Mordremoth’s power enough to allow us to capture it. Since it was a being of energy, we were able to trap it within one of the crystals.”

“Where is it now?”

“It’s being kept deep in the Durmond Priory. Hopefully safeguarded enough that it will never escape.” Shikijo responded.

“Well, that’s good. Something like that running around Tyria…it seems like it would have been terrifying.”

“If Ceara doesn’t show soon, I say we go to the Arbor ourselves.” Joujou suggested. Within seconds the nearby waypoint lit up and Ceara stepped out.

“Oh good! You made it!” Liathlas exclaimed.

“Yeah. But time is of the essence.” Ceara hurriedly headed off towards Amaranda’s home.

“Where are you going? The Arbor is that way.” Liathlas shouted at her.

“I have to pick up a few things!” Ceara shouted back. The trio all looked puzzled at each other and rushed up the hill after her.

Amaranda sat at the table talking to Orla. “Ceara is an enigma of sor-“

“I’M HOME!” Ceara shouted as she bolted through the door, heading straight to her room. She stopped abruptly and slowly walked back to the main room where Amaranda and Orla sat, her gaze fixated sternly on Orla.

“What…is… she doing here?” She asked sternly.

“She is our guest.” Amaranda replied back.

“She’s… Nightmare… Court.” Ceara enunciated.

“No, she isn’t. Not anymore.” Amaranda assured her. “And besides, you should thank her. She brought your armor back.” Amaranda turned and gave Orla a reassuring smile.

“Uh…yeah! I found it in the jungle! And uh….and brought it here!” Orla nervously responded.  

Ceara narrowed her eyes at Orla for a moment before cutting them at Amaranda.

“Amee…” She started.

Amaranda placed her hands on her hips, looking at Ceara sternly.

“Whatever.” Ceara said in huff as she hurried to her room. Liathlas and the asura reached the doorway, stopping before entering.

“Oh! Shikijo and Joujou and…?”

“Liathlas. And you are Amaranda. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Liathlas smiled at her, before turning her gaze to Orla.

“This is Orla. She is a-“ Amarnada started to introduce the sylvari.

“A member of the Nightmare Court. I can tell.” Liathlas cut Amaranda off.

“Well, no, she isn’t. She’s turned away from them.”

“It’s good to see you again, Amaranda.” Joujou said as she and Shikijo entered.

“Likewise, my friends. I do hope you have been staying healthy these days.”

“As healthy as can be!” Shikijo tapped his chest with his fist.

It wasn’t long before Ceara emerged from her room adorned in her trademark armor. “Orla told me what was going on.” Amaranda said to her. “About the seed. If one exists, then that…that’s amazing and terrifying at the same time.”

“It does exist. And Nafiona has it.” Ceara remarked.

“She found it?” Orla questioned, getting to her feet.

“I found it. I had it in my grasp.” Ceara corrected her. “She took it from me.”

“What is this seed?” Joujou asked.

“A seed like from which the Pale Tree grew so long ago.” Ceara replied.

“You mean…like…another Pale Tree could grow from it?” Joujou and Shikijo looked at each other.

Ceara drew a deep breath. “Possibly. But right now, it’s being used as a weapon.”

“We have to stop her.” Liathlas spoke up.

“So, we head to Twilight Arbor. Everyone be on your A game. This won’t be an easy fight, I’m sure.” Ceara instructed them.

“I can get us into the arbor. I know plenty of secret routes.” Orla offered to the group. Ceara glanced at her suspiciously then at Amaranda, noticing her sister thoughtfully staring at her.

“Amee? Is something wrong?”

Amaranda slightly cocked her head to the side and approached Ceara slowly. “Ceara, you’ve…changed. Something happened to you. That seed did something to you.”

“Well, I’m still me.” Ceara replied.

“I know. I can feel it.” Amaranda spoke softly. “But…what happened out there?”

“Amee, now is not the time. I’ll explain when all this is over.” Ceara replied reassuringly.

Amaranda paused for a moment. “Ok.” As she nodded lightly before turning to the rest of the group.

“Now let’s go stop the Nightmare Court.” Ceara spoke confidently.

[aristocraticvision]

Chapter 178: Presenting Victoria

“Lord and Lady Easton,” King Henry said, nodding to the Duke and Duchess as they backed up to return to their seats.

Henry looked to his right, where the chamberlain checked his book for the next in what promised to be a long line of names. He was growing weary after a long and tedious morning, but was skillful in concealing his distaste. After all, it was required by tradition to confirm new nobles in their titles as each generation passed.

“Victoria Prescott, Marchioness of Lansdowne,” the chamberlain’s voice echoed through the hall.

As the king turned back to the chamber, his heart seemed to stop. Before him stood a vision of beauty he had not expected, and it took him a moment to collect himself.

“Marchioness,” he said, as calmly as he could. “I’m so pleased to see you again. It has been many years.”

“Many, indeed, your majesty,” Victoria replied as she curtsied deeply. “I’m afraid the last time we met I was but an awkward young girl.”

“Well that phase has certainly ended,” Henry replied, smiling. “You look lovely. I am sorry about your father. He was always such an amusing guest here at the palace.”

Victoria smiled primly.

“Yes, he always was that,” she said. “I thank you for your kindness in sending flowers. They were quite beautiful.”

The king had no idea he had sent flowers, but was glad now that someone on his staff was paying attention.

“Of course, my dear,” the king replied. “Shall we begin?”

Victoria curtsied, bowing her head.

“Victoria Georgianna Prescott,” King Henry intoned formally. “As King of Corwyn, I do hereby confirm you as Marchioness of Lansdowne, as is your ancestral right under the law. Do you pledge to serve the crown in exercising your duties under this title for the rest of your natural life?”

“I so pledge,” Victoria replied.

“Then rise, Marchioness,” the king said, extending a hand.

Victoria lifted her eyes to King Henry’s, feeling an electricity pass between them.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Victoria said, taking her sovereign’s hand and kissing it gently.

“Please, my dear,” the king said. “I hope that you will sit by my side at dinner so that we may renew our friendship. As one of the senior nobles of Corwyn, it is important that we are well acquainted.”

“I would be honored, your majesty,” Victoria said, as they turned to the chamber of nobles.

“No,” the king said, quietly. “The honor is all mine.”

BEGINNING | PREV | NEXT

Continent of Oceana | History of Weston | History of Corwyn | History of Torenth | History of Allycia

[songbirdsingingthings]

Chapter Four - To Death With Yellow

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

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Word Count: 2.6K

The words uttered from the Duke’s mouth had been playing nonstop in your mind. He’s marrying someone. He’s already engaged, you thought as you raced back to your home. The rain was still pouring down but you didn’t register it. All you could think of was why were those words affecting you in such a way? There was no romantic intention towards yours and Shouto’s outing - just your brother’s friend humoring the naïve little sister. When you finally arrived at the front of your home, you shoved open the doors and marched right inside, water trailing behind your steps. Laughter could be heard from the parlor along with joyous cheers.

“Oh! That must be Y/N, I’ll bring her in here to enjoy the festivities!” You heard your father’s boisterous voice ring. The door from the parlor opened and as soon as your father laid eyes on you, the smile that once graced his face immediately dropped and his eyes filled with concern. “Y/N, dear, what happened?” He fretted, stepping forwards and wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder. You could tell that his sleeves were getting wet from the moisture that remained on your sleeves and skin, but he made no move to step away.

“Nothing eventful,” you chirp, smacking a fake smile on your face.

“Darling, you’re crying.” Your faux sunny disposition dropped as you brought one of your hands up to your eyes. Due to the rain, you must not have recognized the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“O-oh,” you croaked, letting your hand drop to your side and your eyes finding your father’s. As soon as he gave you his signature soft smile, you let your waterworks flow. He enveloped you in a huge hug, letting you rest your head on his chest. Your hands grasped his shirt as you cried, clinging onto his support.

“I don’t kn-know why I’m like this.” You confess, your eyes still swimming with tears.

“You’re just confused, Y/N. This is a very burdensome time for you, demanding your full attention and just waiting for you to trip. You just need to step back for a moment and clear your head.” Your father whispered, petting your head gently. You nod against him and pull back, taking a deep breath before you meet his eyes again. “Now get dried up and come to the parlor as soon as you wish - Lady Uraraka has been wanting to see you and reintroduce herself as your future sister-in-law.” His final words caused a small smile to fall across your lips.

“Alright, I’ll be back down shortly.” You say, grabbing your wet skirts and lifting them so that you could ascend the stairs with ease. Already waiting in your room was Mei, busying herself with some sewing. As soon as you stepped into the room, her eyebrows raised.

“You look like you’ve been to hell and back,” She states bluntly, standing up to lead you towards your mirror.

“In a way, I sort of have,” you joke, letting her hands work their way through your hair, taking out the pins. You saw your reflection and the mirror and almost gasped, forgetting what you were wearing. The light yellow dress, although drenched, was still just as stunning as you saw it before, but you found yourself having a sort of distaste when you saw it. You pulled the note out of the pocket and reread the words. Lord Todoroki’s favorite color, you reread that part about three times before your eyebrows started to narrow. “Mei, what would a situation be called if an already-engaged man had invited you out?” You asked as she began to undress you. Mei scoffed at your question and shook her head.

“That would mean that the man in question is a scoundrel for leading a woman on in such a way. To do that to a young lady’s heart is unforgivable.” Her words resonated within you, lighting a newfound flame in your mind.

“Just so,” You confirm as your arms are stripped from the lemon sleeves.

“Do you want a dress in a similar color? I have a rather nice one stored in the back-”

“No.” You interrupt strongly, earning a look from Mei. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean so brash, but I do not want to be wearing much yellow anymore.” You decide, confidence surging through you.

“But you look so lovely in yellow,” Mei lamented, tossing the wet dress that was in her hands in a laundry bin. “Well, if you are so against it, then why don’t we go the opposite of yellow? Maybe that lavender number I’ve been working on?” She suggests, holding up the light purple dress next to you. You flash her a smile and nod.

“Perfect.”

“I’m sorry I’m so late, I don’t mean to put a damper on anything!” You apologize, stepping into the parlor. Inside you found an eager Izuku and an evenly eager Lady Uraraka stood next to him, your father and her parents conversing. Shaking her head, Lady Uraraka rushes up to you and clasps her hands in yours.

“Oh it’s nothing to worry about! I’m just so glad that you’re here now!” She says sweetly, a bright smile on her face. You laugh and nod your head.

“I am too - I am so glad to finally call you sister, Lady Uraraka.” You respond, squeezing her hands.

“Please, since we are finally family, call me Ochaco!” She asks of you. Izuku comes to join your conversation and easily slips his hand around his fiancée.

“Of course, and call me Y/N.” You say, earning an eager nod from her.

“We are holding a party at our club tonight, I hope you are well enough to attend?” Izuku asks you, hope clearly shining in his eyes.

“Of course! Should I plan an outfit accordingly?” You ask. You see the couple shake their heads and smile.

“It’s going to be a casual event, we’re all just going in what we’re wearing as of right now - your lavender dress will do splendidly,” Ochaco says, complimenting your look.

“Lovely! I’ll be looking forward to it!” You exclaim. Finally, something is looking even more upwards today, you think.

“Oh, and Y/N!” Ochaco says, grabbing your attention. “A certain Lord Iida has been speaking very highly of you, and he actually asked me to see if you would be interested in going to tonight’s event as his acquaintance!” She gushes, a sparkle in her eyes. You have heard of Lord Iida before - everyone has heard of Lord Iida. As the second son of a fabulously wealthy family, he was certainly high up in the social standings and was said to be quite the gentleman. You ponder the thought for a moment, but before you could say anything, your brother does.

“Actually, I think that Lord Todoroki would like to-”

“I would love to attend with Lord Iida.” You interrupt. Izuku turns to you with an incredulous look in his eyes.

“Did you hear what I said, sister? I was saying that Lord Todoroki-”

“I would much rather like to go with Lord Iida, brother, thank you.” You repeat. “I believe Lord Todoroki has other obligations.” You say, holding back the snark in your tone as much as you could.

“Great! I’ll send a letter immediately to let him know, if you’ll excuse me.” Ochaco says, stepping away from you and your brother. Izuku had a very confused gaze, causing you to roll your eyes.

“It’s just as I said, Izuku. I have no interest in attending an event with someone, for example the son of a duke, who is already spoken for. I have to make the best impression I can so that I may have proposals in the very near future. You have no idea what it is like to be a young lady Izuku, so just drop it.” You hiss, glaring at him.

“Shouto is spoken for?” Izuku echoes, his eyes going wide. You give him a nod and look away from him. “I’m so sorry Y/N, I thought both of you shared the same feelings.” He says sadly, giving you a pitied glance,

“We do - it is nothing more than a little kinship.” You say simply, taking a tiny cookie from a plate and munching on it.

“Y/N, you love him, and he certainly has his eyes on you.” Your brother says, exasperation in his voice.

“You’re wrong,” you mutter, shoving any adoring thoughts of Shouto straight to the back of your mind.

“I am not and you know it. What you’re doing right now is foolish.” Izuku sighs, shaking his eyes.

“You have no right to call me foolish, Izuku.” You seeth, pointing a finger into his chest. “Are you not currently engaged to the young lady that captured your heart from the moment you introduced yourself to her? It was both of your first balls and you immediately knew that she was it for you. I’m glad for you, I really am, but God Izuku it is not like that for anyone. He is engaged.” You say harshly. If Izuku wasn’t already shocked, he certainly was now.

“To who?” he says, gaping.

“Lady Yaoyorozu, the daughter of the Count and Countess Yaoyorozu.” You say quietly. A beat of silence passes before Izuku sighs again.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I really thought he was interested.” He said softly.

“Nevermind that - have you met Lord Iida in person?” You ask, earning a brighter look from your brother.

“Yeah, actually. He’s very proper but he’s surely a nice fellow.” He says, easing your conscious.

“And do you know if he is engaged or in that process with someone?” You ask him, holding in a breath.

“No, he is not.” Izuku says, giving you a tentative smile.

“Then tonight should go swimmingly.”

Swimmingly might have been an eager term to use. Lord Iida was certainly what he was described to be - a proper gentleman, always having his arm out for you to link yours with, clearing out people in front of you to have an easier path to get through, and engaging in conversation with you. However, you could feel that something was lacking from him, but you couldn’t place it. He was everything a man ought to be, yet there was a feeling holding you back. However, when the violins started to string out the beginning notes to a familiar dance, you let everything erase from your mind and let Lord Iida take over as he twirled you around the floor. You had to give him props, he was a fantastic dancer. You felt yourself get lost in the steps and in the smile Lord Iida was giving you. The final notes of the song filtered out and Lord Iida twirled you one last time.

“Why that was just wonderful, Lord Iida, I did not know you were such an accomplished dancer,” You gush, giving him your perfected smile.

“That is all thanks to having the right partner, Lady Yagi,” He compliments, earning a small blush. “Could I interest you in another?” He asks politely, stretching his hand out towards yours. He surely has captured my interest, you think to yourself. If you had to end up marrying him, it surely wouldn’t be the worst case scenario. He had enough money to keep you comfortable and happy, was polite and nice… but would you be able to enjoy his company all the time?

“You may-”

“May I have your next dance?” You freeze at the voice. His voice. You plaster on that faux smile once again and turn your face to Shouto. You could feel one of your eyebrows twitch in anger but hold your cheerful demeanor.

“Oh, I couldn’t hold you from a dance with Lord Todoroki,” Lord Iida says kindly, a nice smile on his face as he gestures to the red-and-white haired man next to you. You were sure that Shouto could see the ferocity in your gaze, seeing that he visibly gulped.

“You may,” you reply tersely, nodding nicely to Lord Iida before quickly saying a sweet “do find me afterwards!” Shouto leads you to the middle of the floor and looks intently at you. You say nothing but wait until the music starts, but your breath hitches as his hand touches your waist. Immediately, you are whisked away into the dance - unfortunately, it was a slower one, which provided more opportunities for small talk. You could see Shouto eyeing your lavender dress and decide to comment.

“As soon as the launders in my home have finished drying it, I’ll have them send that yellow dress back to your estate,” you say bluntly, avoiding his eye contact. 

“Please keep it,” he urges, his eyes soft.

“I do not want it,” you snap, your eyes flashing back to him. He sighs and looks down before meeting your gaze apologetically.

“What you heard isn’t true,” Shouto whispers, his grip on your waist as tender as ever. You take a breath and think over your thoughts, not trusting yourself to answer immediately.

“It isn’t, is it Lord Todoroki?” You wonder, malice still laced in your irises.

“What happened to Shouto… I thought we were friends,” he muttered.

“Answer the damned question.”

“I do not want to be engaged to her.” He says earnestly.

“But you are, aren’t you.” You press on. It felt like navigating a sailboat through the ocean’s most horrible storm, Shouto was trying to dodge the truth as much as possible. He knew, though, he had to answer honestly.

“I am,” he mumbles, his expression downcast. You take a deep breath before laying out exactly what you were feeling before him.

“So what was everything to you then? All of those little glances my way, the compliments, that little outing you had planned? You figured you just have to entertain me. ‘Oh that poor little girl who is so desperate to find love, it truly is fun to lead her on. Toying with her is just one of the few joys I find in my life’”. You spit, earning an even more guilty look from the man you were dancing with. “And that dress, what exactly did you have in mind when you gave it to me?” You ask, craving an answer. A few moments pass before he caves.

“It’s my favorite color… I wanted to see it on you because I thought you would look divine in it, and you did. Spending time with you, not toying with you, is one of my few joys in life.” Shouto confesses. You almost crumble and sink into his arms right then and there. You were so ready to make your feelings known to him - that you wanted it to be him that you got a proposal from. However, that one person and the secret he kept from you pushed through those feelings and fueled the ever growing fire of your fury. As the dying notes of the music escaped from the instruments you immediately stopped and flashed one more glare towards his way.

“For evermore, you shall never see me in yellow again. Not if it brings you joy because the happiness you gave me has already been snatched away by your piteous actions.” You snarl, bowing to him. “Now excuse me, I must meet back up with Lord Iida. I have heard that he has no fianceé and he is quite the young man. Perfect for me.” You strut away from him before he can get another word in and find Lord Iida. The rest of the evening goes quickly, since you can’t focus on your escort, but on the sorrowful glances the duke’s son keeps giving you.

A/N: SURPRISE SURPRISE! A chapter dropped on a very early Thursday morning! I am updating this now since I have some obligations this weekend (nothing bad, no need to worry) so I figured I would post the fourth now! Finally, we get a look at Y/N’s confident side (yeah u tell them boys girly) since she is pissed tf off at our duke-in-training Shouto. I know that some of you may be mad at the way she talks to him, but you need to understand - a woman in the regency era’s whole goal was to find a love-match that would fulfill her and her family’s needs, and they could hope that they would love them. Obviously Y/N loves him, but the fact that he was engaged and essentially wasted her time was absolutely not okay of him to do. We’ll see all of these things develop as the chapters go on, but I just wanted to explain myself here before things continue! As always, thank you for reading, commenting, and liking this story <3

xx, Songbird

[zelenacat]

When We Were Young- An Obitine Story- Chapter 20

As the lady left, Parna handed Satine her buzzing comm.

“It’s Ben.” the Duchess gasped.

“I’ll,” Parna practically ran, “be outside.”

Satine clicked to respond.

“Excuse me, Cody.”

The Duchess waited until she heard a door close.

“I know you must be furious-”

“Satine,” the Jedi interrupted, “I’m worried.”

“Honestly,” the Duchess confessed, “so am I.”

A knock graced the door and Khaami poked her head in.

“Celery?”

Satine grinned and took the plate, “Thank you, Khaami.”

The lady curtsied and left.

“Celery?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Cravings.” Satine answered.

“Ah,” the Jedi grew pensive, “how are they?”

Satine giggled, “Baby A is a fighter, she kept kicking during the meeting today.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Yes, fortunately Baby B seems to like her beauty rest.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, “My girls.”

A moment of silence passed.

“Ben,” Satine began, “about our four eldest children-”

Obi-Wan frowned, “I assume they aren’t receptive to the idea of meeting me.”

“Circumstance will push them into your path,” Satine responded, trying to be kind, “but I’d love to tell you about them.”

“Oh?”

“Mara is the youngest of our grown ones,” Satine’s pictured the girl in her mind, “she has your hair and is quite convincing when it comes to the mind.”

The Jedi gaped.

“Come now, Obi,” Satine  gestured, “you needn’t worry, she was raised by my lady’s brother.”

“What’s he like?”

Satine faltered, “A criminal.”

Obi-Wan began to cough, the Duchess laughed.

“She has a heart of gold, though, our Mara,” Satine smiled, “and I gave her access to the palace library, she’s told me archeology interests her.”

“A scholar?” asked the Jedi.

“No, Ben,” Satine shook her head, “that’s more Tristan, her twin brother.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes glowed, “What’s he like?”

“A studious future doctor who loves to enjoy life.”

The Jedi tilted his head at his Duchess, waiting for more information.

Satine sighed, “He and his brother once snuck down into the wine cellar, fortunately, we caught them.”

Obi-Wan snorted.

“It was his older brother’s fault though, Korkyrach.”

The Jedi whistled, “That’s a Mandalorian name.”

“Obi,” Satine scolded, “he’s our first born.”

Obi-Wan turned sheepish.

“Also,” the Duchess added, “we call him Korkie.”

The Jedi raised his eyebrows, “The Duke of Sundari?”

“You’ve heard of him?”

Obi-Wan blushed, “I’ve searched images of you and seen him in pictures close by.

Satine put a hand on her heart, “Aw.”

“He looks like my son.”

“Acts like it too,” Satine added, “he attends the Royal Academy of Government, and I’m sure you’ve heard about the time he convinced his friends to sneak out with him onto government property.”

“They had a noble cause.” the Jedi argued with a smile.

“And then,” the Duchess lowered her eyes, “there’s Tyra Satine.”

“What about her?” Obi-Wan asked, suddenly worried.

“You may have seen her,” Satine flushed, “Quinlan’s padawan.”

Obi-Wan gaped.

“Vos,” he asked, “Vos has been responsible for raising my daughter?”

“Only one of them.”

The Jedi sighed, “I always felt her force signature was strange.”

Satine frowned, “So it’s possible to sense children, then?”

Obi-Wan understood immediately, “If Count Dooku visited you, he would likely feel the twins, yes.”

The Duchess took out her anger on a piece of celery.

The Jedi shook his head, “I can’t believe my daughter is a Republic Spy.”

“I heard about that,” Satine confessed, “does she do dangerous things?”

“Not as much as her Master,” Obi-Wan paused, “God. I have to thank him.”

The Duchess swallowed, “So you’re being traded for Master Fisto?”

There was a soft pleasantness in Obi-Wan’s voice, “Yes, two weeks and I’ll be back.”

“Wonderful,” Satine breathed, “that’s wonderful.”

The Jedi sighed, “I’m still upset you decided to keep this from me for nearly eighteen years.”

“It seemed like the right idea at the time,” Satine confessed, “I’m sorry, Ben.”

“How could it seem right?” Obi-Wan spat.

The Duchess sensed this would be a wound that would never close.

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan.”

The Jedi leaned up against the wall, “That’s it.”

Satine kept a cool tone, “I’ve loved my children since the moment I knew they existed, and I’ve sacrificed so much so that they could live. Anything that would’ve jeopardized that, including telling you, was something I couldn’t afford to do.”

Obi-Wan swallowed, “I understand why you did what you did, but I don’t know if I will ever forgive you.”

“I expected as much.” Satine admitted.

After a moment, the Jedi stood upright.

“When can I meet the children,” he asked, “I want to see them all together, is that safe?”

“If Tyra comes to Mandalore with Quinlan,” Satine began, “then all our children will be within easy reach.”

“She’ll only come if Count Dooku decides to court you.”

Satine deflated.

“By the way,” Obi-Wan crossed his arms, “I don’t like this marriage scheme.”

“Honestly, neither do I.” the Duchess agreed.

The Jedi gestured wildly, “Then why?”

“To protect my people,” Satine sighed, grabbing a piece of celery, “we intercepted some of his operatives, he wants to take Mandalore.”

Obi-Wan nodded, “So you want to give him another option first.”

“Yes.”

The Jedi frowned, “Do not underestimate Count Dooku.”

“I won’t,” Satine shook her head, “they say he’s cunning.”

“He’s almost bested me at times.” Obi-Wan confessed.

“Not you,” Satine gasped, “Anakin mentioned he complimented you once.”

Obi-Wan snorted.

“What?”

The Jedi raised an eyebrow, “Oh, so you talk with Anakin now, do you?”

“He and Pamde have,” Satine paused, “similar circumstances.”

“Children?”

“No,” the Duchess shook her head, “but they’re married-”

“What!”

“And Padme wants a few.”

Satine laughed at Obi-Wan’s gaff.

“It’s true,” she winked, “how do you think we get along so well?”

Obi-Wan sighed, “Ahsoka called you ‘Momdalore”’ in passing the other day.”

The Duchess grinned, “She asked me to my face if she could call me that.”

“No?”

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “What a strange family we are.”

Satine felt hopeful, “Family?”

The Jedi didn’t shy away from the question, “Well what else would I call the mother of my children?”

The Duchess blushed, he had a point.

“Have you thought about names?” Obi-Wan asked out of the blue.

“I,” Satine paused, “I like two names.”

“Let’s hear ‘em.” the Jedi prodded.

“Lyra,” Satine smiled, “it’s an ancient constellation.”

“Beautiful.” whispered Obi-Wan, eyes shining.

“And,” the Duchess hesitated, “I was hoping to name the other one Jynn.”

Satine looked at her Jedi, he was at war with himself.

“If you don’t like it-”

“I love it,” Obi-Wan spurred, “but, could the connection be a problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Her force signature,” the Jedi frowned, now serious, “it would be reminiscent of mine and yours.”

“I don’t know where she’ll be raised, Ben.”

Obi-Wan straightened.

“Obi,” Satine swallowed, “they can only live at the Temple if they manifest abilities. I can’t claim another false sibling. Mara had to be raised by a criminal for crying out loud!”

“Despite all this,” the Jedi forced Satine’s eyes to his, “and you still keep them?”

“I love every part of you I have,” the Duchess answered without hesitation, “I will always keep them.”

Obi-Wan reached out, as if to caress her cheek. Then flinched, realizing he couldn't.

“Two weeks.” Satine offered.

“Two weeks.” Obi-Wan repeated.

An unsure pause, hesitation.

“Sleep well, darling.”

“Goodnight, Obi.”

Duchess Satine awoke naturally the next morning, which was strange, because Parna or Khaami usually came to her. 

“I really should see the Duchess.” urged the Prime Minister.

“I can tell her whatever is necessary.” Gorg replied.

“You are the Captain of the Guard, correct?”

“Yes.”

Whispers followed, then receding footsteps. Gorg knocked and poked his head in.

“The tabloids are having a field day,” his eyes finding her stomach, “Count Dooku announced his intentions to court you an hour ago. Also, your stepping down on the Council turned some heads.”

Satine groaned.

“Khaami has gone to greet Padawan Tyra, who the council decided to send only,” Gorg continued, “Parna called to have Korkie sent home for lunch and many Mandalorians aren’t pleased.”

The Duchess paled.

“I should also warn you that there are fears of violent demonstrations-”

“Stop,” Satine’s voice wobbled, “tell Parna to come to me immediately.”

The Duchess jumped out of bed and ran to her closet, searching for anything and everything white.

“My lady-”

“Help me dress,” Satine interjected, “quickly.”

Parna obeyed, and in ten minutes the Duchess had her corset tight and a simple gown over her head made of ivory lace.

“My hair should be pulled back,” Satine added, “let them see my face.”

“Of course.”

By the time Parna finished, Satine wondered if she had made a huge mistake, and voiced her concerns to her lady.

“You are doing what is right to protect Mandalore,” Parna assured, “the people will see that soon enough.”

The Duchess nodded and went in search of her Prime Minister, on the way, she found Khaami and Tyra.

“Your Grace,” the Jedi curtsied, speaking in Mando’a, “I am here for your assistance in anything you might need.”

A sob escaped Satine’s throat and she held out her arms. Tyra embraced her fully.

“A Padawan for protection,” Jaru Djarin observed, “let us hope this helps.”

“I will stay in the shadows,” Tyra frowned, “the Jedi Council would prefer I remain out of sight.”

“As would I.” the Prime Minister agreed.

Khaami cleared her throat.

“Your advisors are preparing a public response to the Count,” she stated, “and there’s a Press Conference scheduled food this afternoon.”

Satine nodded, naturally, these were all very good ideas.

“Perhaps we should set up a meeting with the clan leaders,” Prime Minister Djarin offered, “let them understand what is going on first hand.”

“Yes,” Satine agreed.

Jaru bowed, “I will get on that.”

“Khaami,” Satine turned, “I would like my nephew’s close acquaintance, Tristan Wren to be at the palace as well, can you make that happen?”

The lady curtsied, “Yes, Your Grace.”

The Duchess pulled Parna close.

“Ask your brother to come visit.” she ordered.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Parna nodded.

Satine smiled at Tyra, “Padawan, may I present my head guards, Gorg and Jaym.”

Tyra extended her hand, and said that she was happy to help protect the Duchess, in Mando’a, of course.

“A Mandalorian Jedi?” whispered Jaym, in awe.

“Please,” Satine was proud at her daughter’s graceful conduct, “call me Tyra.”

“Tyra.”

“Come now,” Satine instructed, “I have to meet with my advisors.”

Everyone around the table looked worried, even after they had prepared the answers to specific questions and given Satine an exact script to read from. Satine’s poll had also arrived. 40% of Mandalorians wanted to stay neutral, 50% disagreed and wanted to choose a side so they wouldn’t be affected, another 10% were unsure. They had an hour till the press conference.

“Perhaps the best way to hide your Padawan is in plain sight,” Prime Minister Djarin advised, “make her one of your ladies, have her follow you wherever.”

Satine gave a small smile, “I would like that.”

“Come, Padawan Tyra,” Parna stood, grinning, “I will help you change into clothing befitting a Mandalorian noblewoman.”

Tyra beamed, and Satine gave her a wink before they left the room.

“I suggest you eat something, Your Grace,” Khaami advised, “it’s been quite the day.”

“Yes,” Satine stood, “I would like that, thank you.”

After she ate, Parna returned with Tyra. The Duchess gasped when she saw her. Dressed in a navy blue dress cinched at the waist with a purple belt and her hair up in a braided bun, Satine thought her daughter looked like a princess. She was a princess.

“Lady Mother,” Tyra curtsied, grinning like a little girl, “how do I look.”

“Lovely, Daughter of Mine,” Satine answered in Mando’a, “simply lovely.”

Tyra embraced her mother and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’m glad to be of service, Your Grace.”

“Come,” Satine grabbed Tyra’s hand, “we have a press conference to go to.”

As they walked, Khaami and Parna offered Tyra advice on how to behave in front of the cameras.

“Stand still and keep your face neutral,” Khaami advised, “you're only there for the Duchess.”

“And remember to address the Duchess as ‘Her Grace’ in the presence of strangers,” Parna winked, “secrets stay secrets.”

Tyra smiled, nodding.

“And don’t reach for your lightsaber.” Satine added.

Tyra patted her leg, “This dress hides everything.”

“Good.”

The Press room was large and bright, Satine blinked as she took her seat. Khaami, Parna, and Tyra stood behind her. The Prime Minister took a seat on Satine’s right, and one of her unlucky personal advisors sat on the left.

Then, the floodgates opened and voices mounted.

“Your Grace-”

“Your Grace, what-”

“Over here, Your Grace-”

An aide handed the Prime Minister a microphone.

“Quiet please,” Jaru thundered, “Her Grace will answer your questions in an orderly matter.”

The room shushed, and Satine pointed to a reporter in the front.

“We understand you polled the Mandalorian population on their war stances,” began the reporter, “what were those results and did they affect your decision to change your view on the war?” 

Satine breathed in, “Our poll of the Mandalorian people indicated that they seem to believe neutrality is harming them, yet fighting is still an egregious offense that they rather not partake in.”

“The majority of our people,” Satine continued, “though not all, would like our country to choose a side. I do not wish to offend any of my people, however small a minority, but I feel that spearheading the Council of Neutral Systems should not be Mandalore’s priority in that sense. My personal thoughts on the war do not matter.”

The next reporter asked about which side of the war Mandalore would join if any.

“Mandalore will not pick a side until it is inherently clear that we prefer one side over the other.” Satine answered.

“How will Mandalore act in the meantime, then?” asked a third reporter.

“We will continue to operate as a neutral party interested in securing their needs, whoever is willing to offer them.”

It was an hour of diplomatic diverting until Count Dooku’s name came up.

“Like I said earlier,” Satine smiled tightly, “Mandalore will not pick a side until it is clear we, as a people, can unilaterally make that decision.”

“But will the Count be received by your court?” pressed the reporter.

The Duchess raised an eyebrow, “If he intends to come I shall not refuse him an audience, but that is his choice.”

An hour after the press conference ended, the Mandalorian Ambassador to the Seperatist Senate returned to Mandalore.

“The Right Honorable Count Dooku will come in two months” he stated, “there are arrangements he must make first.”

“Thank you,” Satine nodded, “continue to act as my voice in the Speratist Senate.”

“The Count also sent you a hologram to be reviewed at your leisure,” the Ambassador voiced carefully, holding out a device, “shall I give it to your ladies?”

“Please.” 

Tyra stepped forward and was given the device, she then looked to the Duchess.

“My quarters.”

Tyra curtsied and left. Satine thanked the ambassador again, he bowed. Hera met Satine and her ladies upstairs in her personal parlor.

“Nurse Hera,” Khaami began, “this is Tyra, Satine’s newest lady, she knows.”

Tyra held out her hand, “Nurse.”

Hera shook it, “My lady.”

“I called you here,” Satine began, “because I am extremely nervous for this recording.”

Hera frowned, “Count Dooku.”

“Word travels fast.” Parna observed.

Satine sat down and patted the bed next to her for Tyra.

“I’m pressing play.” Khaami warned.

The Sith Apprentice’s blue form appeared. On Satine’s first judgement, she thought he was adequately handsome. Then she remembered he killed people for a living and frowned. Also, she had Obi-Wan.

“Dear Duchess,” the Count grinned slyly, “I was quite surprised to receive your message, though I was very sorry about poor Jaira Deere, I am happy you agreed to put that behind us and start anew.”

Tyra mimed vomiting.

“The Jedi will likely try to offer you something to counterbalance this action,” Count Dooku straightened, “but I can tell you they are going to lose the war soon, so I advise you not to accept whatever they think they can give you.”

“He’s on the verge of telling you something,” Tyra frowned, “but he doesn’t believe you are trustworthy yet.”

Satine raised an eyebrow at her daughter’s insight.

“I look forward to meeting you in two months, Duchess.”

A second passed, then two.

Satine sighed, “I am quite nervous about all this.”

“Don’t worry, Lady Mother,” Tyra kissed her mother’s cheek, “I’m really here to spy on the Count, and report back to the council, I’ll make sure you’re alright.”

“I don’t want you fighting a Sith Lord, Tyra Satine.” the Duchess confessed.

“It’s alright, Lady Mother,” Tyra smiled, punching the air, “it’s what I’ve been trained to do.”

Hera raised an eyebrow, “I suppose this is one of the ones you were about to tell me existed.”

“Lady Tyra is really the Duchess’ daughter,” Parna explained, “but that’s a secret.”

A knock pounded on the door.

“Your Grace,” Jaym opened the door, “the Duke of Sundari is here with Tristan Wren, and Lady Parna’s brother has come with his apprentice.”

“Well then,” Satine stood, “we’ll be right down.”

They met in the receiving room then headed out to the gardens.

“This is my new lady, Tyra,” the Duchess grinned, winking at her sons, “I’m glad you get to meet her.”

“Nice to meet you, Lady Tyra.” Korkie bowed.

“Same here,” Tyra commented dryly, “Your Grace.”

Tristan snorted.

“Come now,” Satine clapped, “I fancy a stroll through the gardens.”

Tyra and Mara linked arms, then pulled Tristan and Korkie into the fold.

“Children.” Parna grinned, her voice quiet.

Five minutes had gone by before an aide came running out.

“Your Grace,” she huffed, “the Jedi Council-”

Korkie audibly grunted. 

“Are on the line.” the aide panted.

“I’ll be right there,” Satine eyed her children, especially Korkie, “do not enter when I speak to the Council.”

“Of Course, Your Grace.” Tyra curtsied, face low to hide her smile.

Parna and Khaami accompanied Satine to the meeting room, where the blue figures of the Jedi Council hovered mid-air.

“Good show, your press conference was.” Master Yoda declared.

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” the Duchess nodded politely, “how may I help you?”

“According to info from Senator Amidala,” Master Windu began, “Count Dooku has contacted you personally.”

“He will be arriving in two months.” Satine answered.

“Two months,” Master Kenobi frowned, “he is likely testing you.”

“That is what Padawan Tyra suggested.” the Duchess added.

“Tyra is one of our best spies,” Master Ti stated, “would it be possible to have her assist some of our other friends from Mandalore?”

“She does have that network of hers.” Master Fisto added.

“Network?”

“The criminal friends she’s acquired,” Master Windu frowned, “on her business trips.”

Satine tried not to smile, Tyra Satine had much explaining to do.

“Is it safe,” Master Kenobi piped up, “to risk her identity. We’re counting on Count Dooku not knowing her.”

“Good point, KenobI has.” agreed Master Yoda.

“Perhaps a visit from Senator Amidala,” Master Fisto smiled, “Mandalore is quite fond of those.”

“We are.” The Duchess grinned.

With a loud bang, the Jedi Council doors burst open and a little blue figure swaggered in.

“I’m here because this involves my padawan.”

“You’re late.” Master Windu observed.

“But I came,” Quinlan Vos gestured, “here I am.”

Satine gestured to Parna.

“Bring Tyra.”

“If we may continue, Your Grace,” Master Ti spoke up, “perhaps a visit from a Senator may not bode well with our plan, perhaps sending a Mandalorian to Coruscant would be better.”

“I would suggest the Duke of Sundari,” Tyra grinned, entering the room with flair, “he’d love to go to Coruscant.”

“He could visit for a social call,” Satine agreed, “Senator Amidala is fond of Mandalorians.”

“The Duke of Sundari?” Master Fisto questioned.

“My nephew.” the Duchess clarified.

The Jedi Masters looked at eachother.

“A Mandalorian royal might turn some heads.”

“It should,” Satine stated, “we have ties to both sides now.”

“Look out for your nephew,” Master Yoda began, “we shall.”

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” Satine nodded, “that is much appreciated.”