#sorry the name didn’t age well tangled kingdom | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

secret-engima · 3 years

Note

I got my second covid shot yesterday, and the side effects are happening. Got anything in any of your RWBY AUs that'll makr me feel less Generally Bad?

Awww, sorry the side effects are happening, anon. :( Lemme see what I can find that isn't horribly angsty.

...

Team Gremlin verse:

Hei Xiong —Junior to literally everyone because apparently Mistralen names were too much for Vale tongues to handle— knew his boys weren’t … the brightest or the best. That was fine. His father wouldn’t have given him the brightest and the best even if he hadn’t been the family disappointment. But he had expected his boys to at least know the basic rule of, say, not bringing children into a criminal operation. Semi-criminal. Far less criminal than his father wanted it to be.

It was an abandoned warehouse full of guys with guns. Not a child suitable environment.

“Boys,” he ground out past the budding headache he got just looking at the tiny child sitting politely on a random box —the kid was tiny, how old was he, four?—, “I’m pretty sure I said to ‘go get us some cash’. Not ‘steal a random child’. And if one of you bozos did this thinking about holding a toddler for ransom-.”

“I’m not a toddler!” Piped up the child in the indignant tone of the young.

Junior ignored that outburst for the moment, “Then I’m going to throw all of you in the river. I told you, we’re not resorting to kidnapping to get the funds for this! If I wanted to do that I’d just go back to the old man and lick his boots for more money.”

His men cringed, and the biggest of them —Tiny, and why his men all gave themselves the stupidest, least relevant nicknames was still a mystery to him— held up his hands defensively, “We didn’t kidnap him! … Not … intentionally?”

Junior pinched the bridge of his nose, “Did he wander inside on his own?”

“Well, no-.”

“Are any of you related to him?”

“Well, no, but-.”

“Do his parents or guardians know where he is right this second?”

“Uh- I don’t think so-.”

“Then it’s kidnapping, you idiots! I oughta-!”

A light but firm whap to his knee cut Junior off and he stared at the toddler in shock, because since when did toddlers have canes to whack people with? “Excuse me,” said the boy in a tone that was far too prim for this part of town, “Please stop yelling at your men.” The boy ducked his head a little, looking almost embarrassed, “They were just trying to help me. I got separated from my friends and I don’t … my leg isn’t very good. They let me come inside to catch my breath.”

…This kid was very articulate for a four year old, maybe he really was a bit older than he looked. Still, Junior felt another sigh building in his chest that he squashed down with effort —he was twenty two years old and sometimes he already felt like he was his old man’s age—, “What are you doing out here, kid? The docks is no place for a kid, especially one who needs a cane.”

The boy scowled at him, cheeks puffing and oh no, he was adorable, “I can handle myself! Besides, one of my friends works here. I was with her before I got. Um.” The boy blushed and looked down at the ground, “A little turned around.”

Hummer, the quietest and arguably most observant of his boys, leaned over to whisper in his ear, “He was having a panic attack on the sidewalk about a block from here. We think he lost track of his caretaker at one of the intersections. He’s definitely from out of the kingdoms, he was terrified of the cars. He probably panicked at the sight of so many of them and bolt- ow.”

The boy pointed his cane warningly at Hum as the man held his knee in pain, “I can hear you. I wasn’t scared of cars, I just- got startled. That’s all.”

“Sure kid,” muttered one of Junior’s boys and Junior grunted loudly, because they were getting off topic.

...

One in a Hundred verse

The familiar jolt of rising, of sliding into place, and the body snapped awake with a startled gasp. Ozpin flailed, accidentally rolling right out of bed and landing on the floor in a tangled, confused lump of limbs and blankets. His head ached with the remnants of tears and when he waggled his fingers, they were gloved. He was … in control? No. No-no-no-no that wasn’t right, he only took control when it was necessary. “Oscar,” he rasped hoarsely in a voice that wasn’t his —was far too young and soft to be his—, “Oscar, where are you?” He sat up, groping frantically for the sense of Oscar under the dangerous thrum of Old Kings. He finally found a sense of him, a glimmer of Oscar under the flow, but when he reached to pull it out, the boy just batted his mental hand away like a tired, cranky cat, sliding deeper under the flow instead. Ozpin tried four more times before a spiking headache and repeated flairs of exhausted-agitated magic made him stop for fear of injuring either himself or the boy.

It would seem that … whatever had happened, Ozpin was temporarily in control.

…He hoped it was temporary.

Well. Lying in this position wasn’t good for either of them, so Ozpin careful set about untangling the body and … taking care of things he supposed. He debated the merits of a shower, and normally wouldn’t have dared, but Oscar’s frame was shivering slightly and felt clammy from sweat —from the nightmares of reliving a past life as Ozpin walked through it, just as he had relived his past when Oscar walked through his—. He grimaced, but so long as he was in control he had to take responsibility and care, so he hastily stripped down and hurried his way through a cold shower.

He froze up briefly in front of the mirror, because Oscar —by habit it seemed— rarely looked in a mirror or down at his hands, and never without his gloves and bandages on. Ozpin swallowed hard and saw the thick, ugly scarring on a too-young neck ripple with the motion and felt queasy. Grimm attack. He knew the signs. He just- hadn’t expected to —had hoped never to— see them on a boy this young. Then he shook it off and rummaged around for clean bandages and gloves and clothes. Finding a proper brush was a little trickier, because just a hair brush wouldn’t suffice, at least if his foggy memories of past lives were to be believed.

He took his time getting himself sorted, meticulously brushing out all the kinks and trying not to twinge anything sensitive —he was out of practice with that—, before putting on clothes. A few failed tries at tucking everything away without pinching and he gave up —he was very out of practice, not that it could be helped—. If Oscar’s aunt was accepting of multiple personalities and body-hopping cursed wizards, she would no doubt have long ago accepted this part of Oscar’s own body.

Ozpin made his way downstairs carefully, grimacing past the phantom ache in a leg he knew was just fine but would never feel fine to him, hanging onto the stair railing and repeatedly reaching out to Oscar in the hopes the boy would wake up from whatever strange trance he seemed to be in and take back his rightful control.

Miss Pine looked up in open surprise when he skirted carefully into the kitchen, “Oscar? I thought you said you were going to have a Quiet Day. I was just about to come check on you.”

Ah. This was likely going to go poorly, “My apologies, Miss Pine,” Ozpin murmured and refused to flinch when she stiffened in realization, “I … I do not know what is going on. I woke up in control through no action or intent of my own. I have tried waking up Oscar multiple times but he- he doesn’t respond.”

For a moment, he thought she would accuse him of lying, of stealing control. She would hardly be the first. But after a moment of hard staring, the fight left her shoulders and she sighed heavily, “No, I don’t suppose he would. I should have realized a Quiet Day with … another person … in his head would lead to something like this. Sit down, you might as well eat. Oscar won’t otherwise.”

Ozpin tentatively sat down, careful of how he moved so nothing pinched or was pinned, “You and Oscar mentioned those before. Quiet … days?”

“That’s what we call it when Oscar loses control of the voices. He usually spends the day sleeping or drifting around the house in a daze, unresponsive, barely eating.” She looked pained, worried for a moment, then shook her head, “At least they don’t make him sick and feverish anymore.”

#SE asks #anon asks #Secret Engima Rambles #One in a Hundred verse #Team Gremlin verse

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once-upon-a-pirate-ship · 3 years

Text

How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam 1/?

Here we go! Comment/reblog/share/dm me (always).

Summary: Princess Emma isn't the princess of much anymore. It's been months since her parents and brother were taken, and she's been on the run with her godmother Red (she's a werewolf and doesn't age, whether or not that detail is canon because I honestly can't remember). When Emma and Red board a merchant vessel to sail to Arendelle, Emma quickly finds that the captain is not to be trusted. After helping two slave brothers (Liam and Killian, if you didn't figure that out already), Emma takes over the ship and begins her journey to save and rebuild her kingdom.

We've got action, we've got adventure, we've got the most badass Emma I've ever written--there's tension and brothers and curses and love! What more could you want? (Is it Will Scarlet? Because he's also gonna be in this)

Story rating: M for the violence and stuff (just to be on the safe side because this will probably get dark very quickly) though there will also be other stuff later.

Chapter 1: Unfit for a Princess

Chapter word count: 6.7k (whoops. I know I said 4k, but I couldn't help it)

Read it on AO3

Most people probably would’ve been surprised at the things she’s seen. They certainly hadn’t been fit for a princess, though she wasn’t the princess of much anymore. Her lands had been trampled, her castle destroyed, but what devastated her the most was the loss of her people and the lives taken. Perhaps she could’ve withstood all of that, had her brother and her parents not been stolen from her as well. Months on the run and time wasted spent searching for something she couldn’t even name, but when Emma boarded a merchant vessel with her godmother Red at her side and her sword on her hip, she had to trust that she was headed towards that something.

Captain Silver never would’ve been her first pick. But his ship was one of the few that still sailed her kingdom’s waters, and his papers claimed allegiance to her parents. It was the first they’d found in the weeks they’d watched the port.

Silver was a slimy fellow, broad shoulders and yellowing teeth and he leered at Emma and Red from his place at the helm.

“We can’t exactly be choosy, Emma,” Red murmured, but by the way her eyes flashed when she glanced back at the captain, she’d been thinking the same thing.

Emma scanned the deck rather than focus on Silver, her eyes flitting from person to person as she surveyed the crew and their movements. Her gut tangled itself into a knot at the scene before her, though there was nothing innately wrong about anything she saw.

But Emma had spent her whole life training. Her father had put a sword in her hand as soon as she was big enough to hold it on her own. Her mother followed with a bow not long after. Tracking, fighting, surviving—these lessons were interwoven between court etiquette classes and political strategy lectures. Her parents had taught her to trust her instincts, and that feeling in her stomach told her that something wasn’t right.

“Let’s just keep our heads down and get to Arendelle,” Red advised, her voice cool. Emma’s godmother was a fiery woman, a force of nature who didn’t need her wolf form to take down men twice her size. But she was also her only counsel, the only one who had made it out of the attack.

And she was right, of course. Emma knew that. But Emma also knew that men like Silver were not to be trusted, and if there’s ever a case where one should keep their head up, it’s when someone untrustworthy is nearby.

It only took her a few hours to learn what made her skin crawl.

Emma emerged from below deck, her hand itching to reach for her sword on instinct the second she met the eyes of one of the crew. Red had stayed below, encouraging Emma to stretch her legs and take some air above, but it wasn’t the relaxing scene she’d expected.

Silver towered over a man on his knees, and the captain’s disgusting expression revealed something vindictive in his manner.

“Captain, I’m sorry, he was only—”

Silver’s hand was quick, cutting off the pleading man with a smack to his jaw. The punch was enough to knock the man over, a quiet groan of pain falling from his lips as another rushed to his aid.

This man’s glare came from sharp blue eyes that were partially shadowed by the dark hair that fell onto his forehead. “It was my fault, Captain, you needn’t punish my brother for my mistakes.” His words were firm, clear, but edged with desperation that felt too familiar to one particular observer.

Captain Silver chuckled, shaking his head at the man before him. “Twenty lashes wasn’t enough to teach you before, boy. Perhaps if it’s your brother who takes them this time, you’ll learn.” The captain waved a hand, and two of his crew grabbed the man by the arms, dragging him away from his brother.

Several feet away on the deck behind, Emma remained perfectly still, but it wasn’t fear, shock, or unwillingness to intervene that had her so.

The brother pushed himself up, cool resolve settling over his features. They were softer than his brother’s, his hair lighter and slightly curled, but his eyes were the same piercing blue. Those eyes tightened when he was ordered to turn, but it disappeared when he caught sight of his brother—younger, by the looks of it—kneeling at the other end of the main deck, his shoulders braced by the captain’s men as he was made to watch.

“No!” the younger cried, watching in horror as Silver pulled the whip into his hand.

But before the lash could connect with his brother’s back, its path was obstructed, wrapping around the blade of a sword. Emma tugged, the whip slipping from Silver’s grasp and flying into her hands.

She had waited—for Silver to be more distracted, for the men to least expect interference, for the perfect opening—and then she had slipped from the quarterdeck to prevent the monstrous act from taking place.

“Please, tell me exactly what you thought you were going to do just now,” she said, and although her voice did not boom across the deck, it was fire and ice, and it sliced through the ears of anyone within range.

The captain turned to face her, his eyes angry despite his smile. “Come now, Princess,” Silver cooed, “you shouldn’t be on deck for this.”

It was almost a warning, nearly a threat, and Emma narrowed her eyes. “Answer me, Silver.”

He smirked, glancing around at his men before returning his attention to her. “What, a man doesn’t have the right to punish his own slave? Is that what your kingdom has come to?” he asked innocently, laughter lacing his tone.

If Emma had looked around, she would’ve seen the surprised and curious looks of the crew and the slaves in question, but her gaze was focused only on the captain. “If you knew anything about this kingdom, Captain, you’d know that slavery is prohibited and punishable by death.” She did not tremble, did not raise her voice, did not allow her immense rage to overpower her.

The captain scowled, his eyes hardening as he reached for his cutlass. “You’re out of your depth, Princess,” he spat.

“Am I?” she asked, her tone imitating the clueless princess they believed she was, cocking her head to the side. “Perhaps you really know nothing about my kingdom, because there’s another thing you should know.” She paused, and maybe it was for the dramatic effect, but she was her father’s daughter, so no one could really blame her. “If you draw your weapon against me, you’ll lose it before you have a chance to blink,” she promised. If anything, her voice had gotten quieter, but there was no doubt that she was heard across the deck.

It seemed, however, that Silver was one of those ‘see it to believe it’ types, because he didn’t take her at her word. She moved as soon as the sound of scraping metal reached her ears, and a few steps and a simple twist of her wrist had his cutlass thudding against the deck.

“Now do you believe me?” she asked. “Or would you like a more detailed demonstration?”

Silver growled, but he’d barely taken a step before Emma’s quick feet had her behind him, the hilt of her sword bashing into his skull and knocking him clean out. She could’ve given him a real fight, but it wasn’t worth the energy. And there were other, greater concerns she had at the moment.

When she turned to face the open-mouthed men, she caught sight of Red who leaned casually against some rigging, a nod and a small, encouraging smile sent from her godmother for her to continue.

“I hereby strip Captain Silver of his rank and his ship,” Emma announced. “As his crew, I ask you to join me on my journey to Arendelle. If anyone has a problem with this leadership change, I’ll be happy to lock you in the brig beside Silver.” No one moved, either too stunned or too enraptured by the princess to do anything.

She cleared her throat, “Now, unless there are any questions, I suggest you all get back to work.” It must’ve been her regal voice that made them all comply so willingly. Her mother had trained it into her just as harshly as she had trained her to shoot and curtsey. It was, in many aspects, a well-rounded education.

Red threw her a grin, Emma signaling her to dispose of Silver. And just like that, she kindly rid the deck of the scum that was the former captain.

Once he was gone, Emma turned back to the brothers. She studied them for a moment, resheathing her sword as she did. Both were still wide-eyed, though the younger was now sitting of his own volition, but neither of them seemed to have fully processed the turn of events.

The elder recovered from his shock quickly. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he told her, his head bowed.

Emma’s fierce anger and all of her noble posture disappeared as she took in the man who still knelt before her, the look in his eye and the hunch of his shoulders. And then that other thing her mother had taught her, kindness, rose to the surface and softened her gaze.

“And what is your name, sir?”

The man fumbled, blinking up at her. “Liam, Your Highness. Liam Jones.”

“Well, Liam, think nothing of it. What kind of ruler would I be if I allowed such horrors to continue?” She offered him a hand, but he just stared at it. “Let me help you,” she said softly.

“I am already indebted to you, Your Highness, my brother and I, we can’t possibly—”

She grabbed his protesting hand, forcing him to his feet. “There now,” she said, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Emma smiled, ignoring his flabbergasted expression and moving instead to the brother. He stared up at her, and it seemed to her that he was peering directly into her soul. When she offered him her hand, he took it.

“And your name, sir?”

“Killian Jones, Your Highness.” Emma’s lips twitched, and though she still hated the way her title sounded, she found that she didn’t hate it quite so much when it came from this man.

Emma stepped back, watching as Liam crossed to his brother, and their embrace had her missing hers. She sighed, tossing the whip unceremoniously overboard before facing Red who had appeared from below.

“How fares our guest?”

“Oh, I’ve ensured that his journey will be as uncomfortable as possible,” Red smirked.

Emma nodded, her eyes moving across the deck before returning to her companion. “Good,” she replied. “Stay here. Deal with any…problems. I’ve got some things to take care of.”

Red saluted, and it was only partially teasing. “Aye, aye, Captain,” she grinned.

Emma rolled her eyes, then turned to face the brothers who stood a few feet away, their heads bowed in close conference. The second they realized she was watching them, they turned their attention to her.

“Brothers Jones, follow me,” she said, and they were almost too quick to obey.

They were silent behind her as she crossed the deck, the other men parting to let them by. No one dared meet her gaze, but it was with an air of respect rather than insubordination, or so it seemed to her. She wasn’t naive enough to think her control would hold, but Red’s presence on deck would likely keep them at bay for the time being.

When the door to the captain’s quarters swung open, Emma didn’t try to hide her grimace. A sharp contrast to the spotless deck, Silver’s cabin was covered in papers that had been thrown about, there were clothes littering the floor, food tossed aside and even lingering on parts of the walls.

“Is it always like this?” she asked, turning back to the brothers. She got her answer when Killian’s eyes darkened. “It’s like this until you clean it,” she deduced. “I see.”

They exchanged a look, but she ignored it. “Well, this won’t do. Come along!” she called, leaving them behind her as she headed towards her own quarters.

Liam and Killian hesitated in the doorway of her cabin, and she turned to them with raised eyebrows, her hand gesturing for them to sit at her table. When they shifted their feet reluctantly, she added, “Please sit. There are several questions I have for you, but first I’d like to tend to your injuries. This will go much more smoothly if you sit.”

When they finally acquiesced, Emma moved to the trunk in the corner of the room. It was a recent purchase, one that she’d agreed upon only after Red promised to make use of it as well. Emma was used to living out of the leather satchel that she dug through now, as months running and searching were better suited to packing lightly.

Emma retrieved the small wooden box from the bag, setting it on the table between the two men who watched her every move. The lid creaked when she opened it, revealing the few healing supplies she’d managed to hold onto throughout her travels. The jar of salve was something she’d made herself—her mother’s recipe—and after finding a clean cloth from beside the water basin, Emma dapped at the mixture.

Liam flinched when she raised the cloth to his face, relaxing a moment later when she waited for him to assure her that all was well with a small nod. She eased the salve over the bruise that had already begun to form, attempting to be as gentle as possible.

When she was done, she set the cloth over the jar, her hand finding the back of the empty chair as she looked between them.

“Any more injuries I need to know about?” To another, their silence might have indicated that the answer was no, but she read their expressions before they were schooled, measuring the looks they exchanged.

Emma’s arms folded over her chest, and something not quite as biting as a glare cut through their silence. “Hiding them isn’t going to help you very much,” she added.

Liam shifted uncomfortably. “Your Highness—”

“Call me Emma.”

His lips pulled down sharply as he looked from his brother to her. “You’re a princess,” he replied, “it isn’t proper.”

She let out a suffering sigh, releasing her arms from their hold around herself and gripping the back of the chair instead. “I’m barely a princess anymore,” she told them, her tone too matter-of-fact to reveal the devastation that came with the confession. “My kingdom is in ashes, my castle is little more than rubble, and my people are terrified, lost, or dead. My command on this ship may be the last royal duty I have, and I intend to do it right. That starts with helping the two of you.”

Her words hung heavily in the air, and Liam relented. “Killian’s back…”

“Is fine,” Killian finished quickly. Too quickly.

Liam’s eyebrows shot up at his brother, his head shaking slightly. “It’s not,” he told her, his pleading eyes slicing into her. “But I’m not sure it’s work for a—” he caught himself, pausing and starting again, “—for a lady.”

For a princess. The words, though unsaid, haunted her.

Emma’s lips pulled together as she glanced between them again. “I don’t know if you were paying attention back there, but I’m hardly the type to shy away from getting her hands dirty. And trust me, I have years of experience tending to my own wounds,” she said, “I think I can handle it.”

The months she’d spent with Red swirled in her mind, pointed memories of biting on straps of leather and suppressing cries, stitches rushed beneath moonlight with nothing but alcohol to numb the pain.

“If you supply me with sutures, I’m sure I can make quick work of it,” Liam offered.

Anyone else might have let him, but there was something in her gut that told her she needed to do it. To prevent Liam from having to cause his brother pain again, however helpful that pain might be, or perhaps to ensure that the wound was being properly taken care of, or maybe she was just too damn stubborn to let them do it themselves.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Emma replied, “but between my work with injuries and needlepoint, I think I’ve got you beat with even stitches.” They didn’t have a response to that, and she counted it as a victory.

But that victory was rather hollow when she recalled the words of the captain, the ‘twenty lashes’ that had failed to teach whatever twisted lesson Silver believed was fair, and she was reaching for the numbing gel in her box before she realized what she was doing. It had become her most precious item in the past months, aside from the few trinkets she had from her parents and her father’s dagger, but if made to choose, she’d have to pick the more practical one.

“Liam, I’m not certain—”

Emma didn’t let him finish. “Look, I realize that this is less than ideal. I’m just a stranger to you, and I understand that I’m asking you to trust me. But if this is about pride or protecting my sensibilities, you’re wasting time for both of us,” she said firmly, holding Killian’s gaze. “The reality is that I can help you. You just have to let me. So either tell me to leave you to your pain, or take off your shirt and let me help you.”

Killian did not move right away, blinking up at her with his eyes blown wide. But Emma was never one to back down from a challenge, and she wasn’t going to be the one to break the staring contest they’d gotten into.

“Killian, she’s right,” Liam said, Killian’s eyes flitting from hers to look at his brother. “Just do it. You’ll heal much faster this way.”

When Killian finally stood to unbutton his shirt, Emma returned to her box, gathering the other supplies rather than look at the man she found dangerously intriguing. She forced herself to focus, not looking up until he’d laid on the bed, his back exposed.

“Is there anything you need?” Liam asked her as she crossed to the bunk, pulling the chair so she could sit beside it.

“A wet cloth, thank you,” she replied, laying her supplies out onto the small table next to her.

Part of her training to become an effective ruler included learning to put her mind in a box. She had to be rational even when being rational nearly killed her, and letting her emotions surface now, when there was a person who needed healing…she wasn’t going to let that happen. So she swallowed every thought and feeling that rose in her stomach and in her mind, examining the torn skin before her as if it were a war that had to be fought, and order, strategy, precision would let her succeed.

Emma accepted the wet cloth from Liam before he returned to sit at the table. “I’ll have to clean it first,” she told Killian softly. “It will sting for a moment, but once I’m done I’ll apply the numbing gel.” It was confusing for her, trying to dance the line between empathy and cool rationality. Comfort, kindness, but calm, exact, detached but not apathetic.

Killian didn’t meet her gaze, nodding as his hand gripped the pillow. His jaw was taut, and she recognized the expression. The anticipation of pain, the kind that came with knowing what was to come.

It was the lack of a cry, a groan, or even a whimper that tore into her heart and almost shattered the dam that restrained her emotions. The cleansing liquid burned, she knew it did, but as she dabbed it against the bright red gashes that covered his upper back, he did not make a sound. She followed with the cloth quickly to ease the fire, but it wasn’t enough. It never had been for her.

Emma forced herself to breathe when she returned the bottle to the table, taking the numbing gel in hand. She grounded herself in the release of tension the second it touched his skin, how his jaw loosened and the way his exhale was almost a sigh.

“Alright, Liam, tell me who’s gonna be a problem,” she said, eager for both the distraction and the information.

“What?”

She didn’t turn to look at him, reaching for the needle instead. “You talk while I work,” she told him. Killian didn’t show any sign of pain or even sensation when she made the first stitch, but Emma knew it wasn’t because he couldn’t feel it. The numbing gel was good, but it could only do so much.

“Who is going to try to mutiny?” she asked, pausing before forming another stitch.

“Carver,” Killian grunted. “He and Johnson aren’t likely to be your biggest fans,” he said, and he spoke as if he were sitting beside her at the table.

She kept her eyes and her hands focused on making quick, even stitches. “Greatest assets? I need to know who’s going to be the most helpful on our voyage, who can navigate, who I can trust.”

“Terry’s the best sailor we’ve got,” Liam said.

Killian made a sound, and at first, Emma thought she’d hurt him. “I’d say you’ve got at least as much skill, brother,” he muttered.

Emma stopped her moving hand, glancing back at Liam. “Is this true?” Heat spread across his face, answering before he could.

“Aye,” Killian replied.

“Okay, we’ll discuss that later,” she said, resuming her task. It was easier to think of it like that, a task, just something she needed to do. “Is there anyone else on board who will be needing my nursing abilities?”

“Not that I’m aware of, no,” Liam said softly.

Emma nodded, letting silence fall for a few minutes while she worked. Half of her energy was channeled towards the actual stitching, the other half spent on trying not to think about the scar tissue on this man’s back. She wasn’t sure she’d ever stitched something faster in her life.

“If I didn’t make it abundantly clear before, you’re both free,” she said after a while. “If you’d prefer it, we can drop you off at the nearest port, but you’re welcome to stay. I’ll see to it that you have proper wages—retroactive ones, either way—but you’ll have a place among the crew should you wish it. The choice is entirely yours.”

“We’ll stay,” Liam told her, his tone more resolved than she’d ever heard it.

“Aye,” Killian agreed as if there were no question.

She smiled softly, relieved at their choice, if she were being honest with herself. She would’ve kept her word had they chosen otherwise, but it was a comfort to know that she’d have at least two she could rely on aboard the ship.

It didn’t take much longer for her to finish the last of the stitches, and she covered his back in her special salve a little more liberally than normal. Her hand froze as she pulled it back, her ears catching the sounds from the deck.

“Damn,” she muttered, wiping her hands with the wet cloth quickly, “I thought we’d have more time.” She left the room before Killian could even replace his shirt, but the brothers Jones were not far behind.

Her sword was in her hand when she reached the deck, scanning the scene and finding Red in the center of it. Several men had gathered around her as she bared her blade and her teeth, but Emma was at her side before the first man had the chance to attack.

Emma’s sword was fast, although it wasn’t the cutlass the crew used, and she parried her opponent’s first attack, then his second, the metal clanging so familiar that she got lost in the fight, a lunge and a hit against him and then a step to the side at the last second that threw him off balance. A sweep of her leg brought the man down faster than he could recover, his ass then his head slamming against the ground.

A half-turn brought her to the next enemy, a quicker man who still wasn’t quite quick enough. She used his size against him, tricked him into an ill-timed attack that revealed more of her target, and she nicked him in the arm, just enough to make him falter. She disarmed him with a move her father had taught her, knocking him out with the butt of her sword without waiting to watch him drop onto the deck.

But when she spun to face her third opponent, someone else was there to interrupt her.

Liam charged with a fallen blade, his footwork a little clumsy but good enough to face the oversized mutineer. He lunged at the man, catching him in the side, and Liam took him down with just a few more swipes.

The fourth was already engaged in a fight with Killian when she turned. This brother was quicker, more agile, better suited for the blade in his hand. He was skilled, that was apparent to her even in the thirty seconds or so she was able to observe before he disarmed the attacker. The hilt of his sword collided with the man’s head, and then Killian turned to face his princess and captain.

Red cast her weary gaze across the deck, eyeing the rest of the crew who had gathered to watch the events unfold. “Anyone else?” she taunted, and Emma joined her in measuring them up. “Good, at least we’ve retained the ones with common sense. I could use a hand taking these traitors to the brig,” she hinted.

Several men moved right away, both brothers with them, but Emma stopped Killian with a hand on his shoulder. His startled eyes met hers, his eyebrow raised questioningly.

“If you pull those stitches, all of my hard work will be for nothing,” she said. She felt her lips pull up at his sheepish expression, his hand reaching to scratch behind his ear.

She turned to his brother who was hoisting an attacker over his shoulder. “Thank you, Liam.” Another hand held out to him, this time to shake.

“You’re welcome, Your Hi—” he paused, taking it. “Emma.”

It was just her name, but it really wasn’t. It felt like acceptance, like loyalty. Fighting for each other, crossing enemy blades to defend. With Liam, the use of her name was respect and a promise. She watched him join the others in heading below, and then she turned to his brother.

“Thank you, Killian,” she said, offering him the same gesture.

“We owe you much, love. It’s the least we could do.”

Emma tried to pretend that she didn’t feel a jolt rush through her when her hand touched his, like lightning didn’t shiver up her arm from where their skin met. She mourned the sensation when it disappeared with the release of his hand.

“You’re a better swordsman than your brother,” she said suddenly.

“Aye, well,” he hesitated, ducking his head. “He was a little busy covering for my mistakes to learn the footwork.”

“That was more than just footwork,” she pointed out.

Killian flushed, his ears turning a most delightful shade. He opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he was about to say was interrupted when a man approached.

The newcomer was older, slightly graying, and he wore a kind smile. “Your Highness,” he greeted, bowing properly. “My name is John Terry. I’d like to offer my navigational skills to aid Your Highness on our voyage to Arendelle.”

Although she was put off by his terrible timing, she smiled her sweetest diplomat smile. “Thank you, sir. I am certain that Liam will appreciate the assistance, as he will be leading the charge, so to speak.”

She hadn’t entirely decided on this particular detail, not until she saw how readily he fought for her, how quickly he and his brother came to help her. After all that, how could she not trust him to lead their way? As always, she listened to her instincts, and her instincts were screaming at her to trust the Jones brothers.

“Of course, Your Highness,” Terry nodded. “I will meet with the elder Jones just as soon as he finishing helping Lady Red.” With another bow, Terry retreated, the sincere expression never wavering.

Killian was staring when she turned back to him. “You…”

“Took you at your word?” He nodded. “Allow me to let you in on a little secret,” she said, her voice low, “I can always tell when people are lying.” It had saved her life more than once, and though she’d had reservations about giving Liam the post before, his skill was never in question.

Killian’s eyes didn’t leave her, they only widened as if he couldn’t help himself but look at her in awe.

“What?”

“You’re bloody brilliant,” he blurted, and red came to stain his cheeks again. “Apologies, Your Highness,” he muttered.

Emma sighed, resheathing her sword so she could twist her hands together. “What did I say about my title?” she reminded him.

Once again he was prevented from speaking, unable to amend his statement before Red and Liam returned from below and joined them. And force of habit kept Emma from dallying, turning to Liam to get right to business.

“I’ve told Terry he may assist you in leading our navigation,” she told him. “He wishes to meet to discuss our course, but make no mistake, you’re taking the reins on this. And I want not a word from you against it,” Emma added, narrowing her gaze as if to prove that she was serious.

Liam nodded, but he wisely remained silent.

“Red, I want you at the helm until one of them takes over.”

“Of course, Emma.”

“Report any relevant information or concerns you have directly to me,” Emma told them. “I’d rather not have to defend the ship from a second mutiny, if it can be avoided.”

Red huffed, shaking her head at the thought. “And if we need you? Where will you be?”

“I will be learning the ins and outs of the ship from Killian—unless he has any objections?” Emma raised an eyebrow, looking to him to confirm. When he did, she continued, “Right then, we’ll remain on deck to keep the crew from deciding to do anything extremely stupid.”

And with that, they dispersed, Red towards the stern and Liam below while Emma led Killian to the forecastle where the fewest men lingered to work. But the eyes of the crew followed the princess wherever she moved, until her biting glare forced their attention back to their tasks.

“Would I be wrong to assume that the two you mentioned are now occupying the brig?” she asked. “Carver and Johnson?”

“No.”

She’d already guessed this, of course, but it was satisfying to have her hunch confirmed. “So I’m also assuming that you know quite a bit about how this crew works, based on the accurate prediction.”

“I suppose,” he replied, eyeing her curiously as they walked along the railing.

“Perfect,” she grinned.

It only took a few strategic questions from her before he was laying out the exact dynamics of the crew, the hierarchy that was always present, the groups that would form in the right climate. With Killian’s knowledge, she had a clear picture of who could be trusted and who she’d encourage to vacate the premises the second they were docked.

Emma had anticipated this. He was perceptive, clever, and his mind worked more like a soldier than a sailor. Killian’s instincts were much like hers, and she would’ve made bets on his intuition.

“What’s in Arendelle?” he asked once his information was exhausted and silence had settled over them.

She sighed, dropping to sit on a nearby barrel. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, or even that the information was particularly secret, but she hated revealing that she was truly just searching blindly in the dark for anything at all to help her succeed.

“They’re our closest ally that has magic,” she said honestly. It wasn’t all of it, but it was the truth.

He was the curious sort, and she could read all of the questions in his eyes. But he held his tongue for whatever the reason, and the opportunity was lost anyway when Liam joined them. Though Liam’s information was likely vital, she couldn’t help but feel that something else was rather important, too. Red requested an audience before she could consider it further.

They located a secluded part of the deck rather than going below for privacy, neither willing to risk it so soon after the mutiny attempt. Emma braced herself for the oncoming lecture. Well, Red wasn’t exactly the lecturing type, so perhaps she’d simply scold her and move on.

“You did the right thing.”

“I think so, too,” Emma replied.

“Silver is a slimy little bastard, and I can’t say that I’m upset to see him and his friends in the brig,” Red chuckled.

It was true, Emma knew, but she’d expected to have to defend her actions, her recklessness, to her godmother. “So you wanted to talk to me,” Emma prompted.

Red sighed, leaning against the rail that overlooked the deck. “You forget, kid,” she began, “I watched your mother do this the first time. It’s not enough to just get them back, to save them, we need allies. You need allies. And that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

Emma smirked, “You’re telling me to keep up the good work?”

“I’m telling you to use that gut of yours, Emma. Trust it, just as you have been. If you continue to do that, continue to lead the way like you’ve always been trained to, we can’t lose.”

Emma stood at the helm, her sharp eyes trained on the deck before her. Silence enshrouded the ship, only the gentle crashing of the waves sounding in the air. Light was scarce, the half-formed moon above giving her just enough to assure her that all was well.

Red had long since gone to bed, her and Emma’s things moved into the first mate’s quarters for the time being—the previous occupant had recently relocated to less comfortable arrangements far below. Naturally, Emma had dispatched Red to order the Jones brothers into the newly vacant cabin, and she’d been given express instructions to ensure they’d both reapplied the salve. But that was hours ago, and Emma had a few more before Red was due to relieve her at the wheel.

“Liam or I would’ve gladly taken the night shift, Princess.”

Emma turned at the voice, unsurprised to find Killian already beside her. “Be that as it may,” she said, “I still wished for both of you to get a good night’s sleep.”

“And what of our fearless captain?” The moon lit the side of his face, an eyebrow raised in her direction. “Doesn’t she deserve a restful night?”

Her grip tightened on the helm as the memories flickered before her eyes without her permission, the calm nights that turned into chaos foreshadowed only by a single twig snapping or the turn of a doorknob, the things she would’ve missed had she not been awake.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to get anything resembling a restful night,” she confessed bitterly.

“Is this your brilliant war strategy? To be so exhausted that your enemies pity you and surrender?”

She shot him a glare, but his expression didn’t falter, remaining open and questioning. “Fair point,” she relented. “However, my bunk won’t be free until Red returns to take the next shift, and I don’t think the floor would be very comfortable.”

“Ah,” he breathed. “Luckily for you, the matter has been taken care of,” he told her. “I think you’ll find that the captain’s quarters are more to your liking now.”

Concern and frustration made a strange combination in her voice. “Killian, you didn’t—”

He held up a hand. “It was no trouble, I assure you. I found the task much more pleasant when I knew it was for you and not Silver,” he smiled. “And before you can ask, I was careful with my back. Liam checked my stitches, and your handiwork hasn’t been ruined.”

“And now I’m just supposed to let you finish the shift for me? After you worked for who knows how long cleaning that horrible cabin?” she nearly snapped at him, pausing to take a breath. “You need sleep more than I do, Killian. You’re healing.”

“I’ve already slept for a couple of hours, but if it suits you, Your Highness, I’ll rise late tomorrow.”

“I thought I told you to call me Emma,” she interjected.

“And as my brother already said, it isn’t proper.” He didn’t cower beneath her pointed gaze, holding his head high as challenged her.

She deliberated a moment before speaking. “I’ll let you take over as soon as you call me Emma.”

Killian’s eyebrow shot up again, his expression a mixture of irritation and something softer, fondness with an edge of awe that revealed to her that she’d impressed him yet again. Their locked eyes brought a new tension between them this time, until Killian seemed to remember himself and glanced away quickly.

He sighed, and moonlight reflected in his eyes as they moved to meet hers again. “I owe you much,” he said.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

Killian nearly snorted at that. “Saving Liam? Relieving Silver of this ship? Freeing my brother and myself, essentially saving our lives? Tending to my wounds? Giving Liam the chance to be a real sailor?”

“Okay, not nothing,” Emma mumbled. She cleared her throat in an attempt to start over. “I did what was right. Don’t…I don’t want you to feel trapped because of a sense of obligation, not when you’ve just gotten your freedom back.”

His eyes were gentle, almost tender, and she wished it was light enough to see their exact shade. “Don’t you see,” he paused, and when he finally said her name, it was almost a prayer, his lips caressing as he murmured, “Emma?”

She couldn’t reply, not when she was lost in his eyes and his voice and his expression. Where Liam’s use of her name was respect, loyalty, Killian’s was something more. It was something far too deep, vast and powerful like the seas that rocked them. When Killian used her name, it was as if the world trembled around her, pausing for a fraction of a second just to revel in the sound.

“You’ve given us our freedom—freedom to choose,” he continued. “We’ve gone so long having to witness Silver’s atrocities and those done by others just like him, never able to stop it, never able to do anything but watch. But with you here, you’re giving us a chance to do something about it. Now we can do the right thing. And after seeing you today, love, I’m certain that the right thing is to remain at your side.”

Killian smiled, his hand taking the helm. “And you can’t very well lead us into battle if you’re passed out,” he added.

Emma’s hands dropped from their hold on the wheel, and she stepped aside to relinquish her post. He immediately slid into her spot, a satisfied grin stretching across his lips.

“I expect you to rise late, remember,” Emma reminded him.

“Of course.”

“And if there’s trouble—”

“There won’t be.”

“If there’s trouble,” she repeated, “make sure I’m the first to know about it.”

He nodded, “Aye, aye, Captain.”

“Here we go,” she said under her breath, turning away from him to head towards her cabin.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing!” she called over her shoulder. She stopped before she reached the opening, glancing back at him. “Good night, Killian.”

“Good night, Captain.”

It wasn’t her name, but at least it wasn’t ‘Your Highness,’ which was much worse. And he’d said her name once. Given her reaction, it might not have been the best idea to make it a regular occurrence. Besides, there was something about the way he said Captain that felt like…well, it was nice.

The waves lulled Emma to sleep not long after her head hit the pillow, something almost like a smile on her lips as she drifted off.

#captain swan fanfic #ouat ff #cs ff #captain swan #ouat #princess!emma #How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam #fanfiction #once upon a time #cs fanfic #once fanfic #chapter 1 #my fic

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madtype · 3 years

Text

Cabaret Club Czar Training - YUKI (Part 2)

continuing her training, yuki and majima talk about dating, dreams, and princes!

highlights: - yuki being concerned that majima’s unwell because he was nice to her - majima’s accidental double entendres featuring chafing and crotches - yuki, on the potential of feeling some attraction to majima: “oh... i don’t know how i could ever forgive myself...”

full transcript under the cut!

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MAJIMA: Alright, let's do some more training.

YUKI: Y-Yes, thank you for taking the time!

M: What's up, Yuki-chan? You nervous again?

Y: N-Not at all! It's battle butterflies again!

Y: Okay! Let's get started! I want to get better at talking to my customers!

M: That's the spirit, Yuki-chan! Alright, I'm gonna be your customer, and we're just gonna talk. Are ya ready?

Y: Y-Yes!

Y: Hello! I-I'm Yuki! Thank you please for coming in toda-- tonight, um, have a good...

M: ......

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M: Alright, let's get to know each other a little better, Yuki. Not that I care, but why don't ya tell me about what kinda guy you like?

Y: Wh-Why do you have to put it like that!? When you say it that way, it really doesn't inspire the most creative of answers, Majima-san...

M: Yeah, yeah, my bad. So tell me about your type already.

Y: Let me think... I... I like a guy who can be my prince!

M: Uh. A prince?

Y: He should be kind, tall and handsome, with flowing hair! He'd really respect me, and he would look good riding a white horse, y'know!?

> Sounds just like me.

M: You talkin' about me, Yuki-chan?

Y: Huh? What do you mean? Majima-san, are you saying you're a prince!?

M: Sorry, Yuki-chan. I may be your ideal man, but I can't be your prince.

Y: Ahaha! Majima-san, you say the funniest things!

Y: Majima-san, you're not exactly a prince... Oh, I know, you'd be the evil chancellor who betrays the kingdom!

M: An evil chancellor!? It's the eyepatch, isn't it!?

> I think I get you.

M: I can see that. If I were lookin' for a lady, I'd want a princess, too.

Y: Huh? Wow Majima-san, you actually see eye to eye with me on something? No way!

M: Hey, if you're gonna hold onto dreams or ideals, ya better swing for the fences.

Y: Exactly. I'd prefer to chase the ideal of my perfect man. But, he might not actually exist... Maybe my standards are too high.

M: Lemme ask you, Yuki. How old are you anyway?

Y: I'm 23.

M: Hmmm... I see, I see...

Y: Uhhh, what's with the sudden pause?

> That doesn't exist!

M: A guy like that doesn't exist! That's on the same crypto level as a tsuchinoko, a unicorn, and a yeti!

Y: H-How do you know that for sure? The tsuchinoko could be out there...

M: Look, there ain't no such thing as a tsuchinoko. Someone probably just looked at a fat snake the wrong way.

Y: Awww, Majima-san, you're just a sad man who's lost all his imagination and dreams!

M: Yeah, and you're an adult now yourself, so maybe it's time you grew up a little... What were we talking about again?

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M: ...Anyway, I'm surprised you're such a dreamer, Yuki-chan.

Y: I'm allowed to dream, aren't I? I went to an all-girls middle school, high school, and university, so I've been dreaming about my prince charming for a long time now.

M: Ah, so you grew up surrounded by girls at your schools. I'm startin' to see why it's tough bein' around men.

Y: Oh, I... I'm sorry.

Y: So, I guess what you're saying is... my customer service skills are lacking because of that... right?

M: What's all this then?

Y: Well, since it came up, I've been wondering if my issues talking to customers might be holding everyone else back, and I wouldn't want that...

> A club needs variety.

M: A good club needs a wide variety of girls, actually.

Y: Huh?

M: I mean, sure, it'd be nice to have someone who could actually talk to the customers...

M: But some guys prefer girls who come off like they don't buy into the whole “nightlife” business.

Y: Hm, I wonder...

M: See, a girl like you adds appeal to the club as a whole, Yuki-chan. We can cater to all walks of life that way.

Y: Wh-Why are you so nice all of a sudden? Majima-san, do you have a fever or something?

M: What? What're you talking about?

Y: No, I just thought you were going to give me a hard time like you always do... I was just a little shocked, is all. So thank you.

M: Hmmmm, what kinda guy do you take me for?

> Don't worry about it.

M: Don't even sweat it. With me at the helm, a problem here and there ain't nothin' I can't deal with.

Y: I knew it. I am causing problems. I'm really sorry...

M: Ah, no, no. That's not what I meant. I was only tryin' to cheer you up, Yuki-chan.

Y: *sigh*

M: (Wow, she's really down in the dumps, now.)

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M: Hey, I know it's probably a ways off, but I wonder what you'll be like when ya do get yourself a boyfriend, Yuki-chan.

Y: Y-You never know! My prince might ride in on his white horse and sweep me off my feet tomorrow!

M: Riiiiight. Cape, sword, and the whole nine yards.

Y: That didn't sound sincere at all!

Y: But, a boyfriend... When I think about dating, all I can think about is how much of a hassle it is.

M: A hassle? Even if it was your equestrian princeling?

Y: If my boyfriend really were a prince on a white horse, it'd probably be even more of a hassle than dating a normal guy!

Y: Every date would be a struggle for the right clothes and make-up, and even then, I can't begin to imagine what I'd be able to talk about with him.

> You'd figure it out.

M: If you liked him, you'd make the effort, though.

Y: Really? Majima-san, you're the last person I expected to hear that from.

M: Really? What's up with that?

Y: Oh, it's just that you suddenly sounded so encouraging and supportive, and it took me by surprise. Are you sure you're feeling okay?

M: Of course I'm okay! I do say positive things every now and then, y'know.

Y: My heart skipped a beat there... Oh, I don't know how I could ever forgive myself...

M: Say what?

> That's this job though...

M: You donkey! You gotta do all that at work here every day. Gettin' dolled up and talkin' to guys is your job, remember?

Y: Ohhh. That's true... If I have trouble with that on the job, I'd probably be bad at it in my private time too...

M: Hey, none of that, now. If ya got time to feel sorry for yourself, you should channel that into uppin' your game.

Y: Upping my game... Yes, you're right. I can't always be a burden to this club. I'm... I feel more motivated now!

Y: Majima-san, can you tell me the number one thing that I've been missing? I really want to know!

M: Uh, lemme think about that one. Hmmm.

M: Thinking big picture... I'd say you're missing everything.

Y: *sigh*

M: Oh! No no, I take it back! Nevermind, Yuki-chan!

> Do a horseback date.

M: Well if he picks you up on a horse, I say ride with it.

Y: Ah, that would be great. So romantic!

Y: We'd ride together on his white horse, into the wind... I would grasp him tightly behind his back, our thoughts as one without exchanging words...

M: Don't get too ahead of yourself, Yuki-chan. Remember, riding a horse'll chafe your thighs.

Y: Ch-Chafed thighs? What!?

M: Yeah, ridin' a horse is a real pain in the crotch till ya get used to it. Ya don't wanna be a whimperin' mess in front of your prince, eh?

Y: Hey, Majima-san! Can you please not bring up crotches and chafing when I'm trying to talk about romantic things? Try to be delicate for once!

Y: But... Now that I think about it, I should learn to ride a horse. Wonder where I could practice...

M: Hmmm. Beats me.

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M: You know, you're an odd girl, Yuki-chan.

Y: Odd? What's weird about me?

M: Well, in one breath you're sayin' you'd wanna date a prince, and in the next, you're sayin' it'd be a hassle.

M: You're like a grumpy old man in the body of a romantic young lady.

Y: What do you mean!? A grumpy old man? At least make it a grumpy, middle-aged woman!

M: So grumpy and middle-aged is fine, long as you're a woman?

Y: I'm just not starved for love. There are more important things in life than romance!

M: Well, maybe this is a bad time to bring it up, but have you ever actually gone out with someone, Yuki-chan? I get the feeling you've never dated...

Y: I-I-I've gone out with plenty of guys! Of course! Th-There's Sato-kun, Suzuki-kun, and... Tanaka-kun!

> Those are last names...

M: Ya know, if you're gonna lie about ex-boyfriends, you should probably use their first names, Yuki-chan.

Y: Oh!

Y: That's true! If you're dating someone, you'd call them by their first name, wouldn't you? I've learned something today. Majima-san, you're great!

M: That's all it takes to impress ya? Whatever. Anywho, lots of club-goers like an inexperienced girl like that, so it ain't exactly a bad thing.

Y: Uhh... You're right, I guess. I'll keep doing my best.

> I yield!

M: Ah, well you sure proved me wrong. You've got quite a bit of dating experience, Yuki-chan.

Y: Y-Yes, that's right. Haha... Ha... Oh...

M: What's the matter?

Y: I got so tangled up in my own lie, it made me kinda sad.

M: I kinda figured. But y'know, it ain't all bad. Some of our guests actually like inexperienced girls better. Cheer up.

Y: Right... I'll keep it positive and do my best.

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M: Okay, I think that'll do it.

Y: Th-Thank you for the lesson.

M: Sure thing. Good job.

#cabaret club czar #yakuza 0 #goro majima #yuki #club sunshine

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firstofficertightpants · 4 years

Text

In Your Honor - CH. 2

Luz has wanted nothing more in life other than to join the ranks of the Emperor's Knights - the highest rank of royalty defenders, but after a disaster of a first impression with the bratty princess, she starts to wonder if it’s worth it.

Previous Chapter

The Blight Castle was even more extravagant in person. Tall white stone walls surrounded the beautifully crafted towers, lined with gold that sparkled in the sun. Stained glass windows with murals of the past Blight family members doing acts of greatness could be seen from the front gate, the gate itself made of polished brass shaped to look like roses. Standing on each side of the gate were two members of the Emperor’s Knights. Their white capes flutter in the mid day wind and faces obscured by their expertly crafted bird head shaped helms. The two guards didn’t so much as move as Luz approached, her aunts lunch in hand.

“Uh, Hello! I'm here to see Lilith? She’s my aunt.” Luz explained nervously, holding up the lunch her ma had made. “I'm supposed to bring her this?” The two guards looked at each other, one nodding its head before the other turned to pull a lever. The large brass gates open effortlessly as one of the guards motions Luz to enter.

“You’ll find your aunt on the second floor, in the study.” The guard explains as Luz walks through the gates.

Luz gives the guard a quick nod, her excitement from meeting an Emperor’s Knight barely contained, before she heads to the castle's main entrance. She heads up a large flight of stairs to the main castle entrance where she meets two more guards. Luz opens her mouth to explain herself but one of the guards simply holds up their hand to silence her. The other guard opens the door and ushers her inside before closing the door behind her with an echoing loud thunk.

If the outside of the castle was beautiful, the inside was breathtaking. Large marble columns reached up higher than Luz had ever seen. The sun shining through the stained glass windows cast gorgeous colors along the white marble floor. Satin purple runners lead to and up a large set of stairs at the far end of the room. If this was the main entrance, Luz couldn't wait to see the rest of the castle. Quickly she headed to the large stairs and up to the second floor where she was greeted with even larger halls filled with doors leading to who knows where.

Luz wandered the halls, looking for the study she was told to meet her aunt in. Along the way she ran into the knights training hall, followed by the medical ward where she got to visit her mom for a short bit of time before she had to head back to work. She managed to get exact directions from her mother on where to find her aunt. She followed the hallway she was currently in until she reached a fork, where she took a left and found the third room on the left hand side. She stopped outside the large wooden door. The handle and hinges were a polished brass while the images of ravens in flight were carved into the solid wood. Luz reached up to the knocker in the center of the door, a ring hanging out of a ravens mouth, and gave it a gentle clunk against the wood. She waited a moment before trying again. When no one answered she simply grabs the handle and twists it, peeking inside.

Standing in the middle of this room is a single person, her back turned to Luz as she looks over a book. She mumbles something Luz can’t quite hear then flips the page of her large tome. The girl looks to be about Luz’s age with green short hair pulled back. She’s wearing a lovely pink dress that complimented her pale complexion. Luz catches a glimpse of her face as she turns to look at another tome she has to her side, grumbling again as she turns another page.

“Que bella ..” Luz whispers as she leans against the door, the hinges creaking as it shifts under her weight. The sound alerts the girl to her presence and she whips around. Her face melts from surprised to mild irritation as she looks over Luz. The girl's simple garb giving away her commoner status.

“Who are you?” The girl asks. Her voice is as elegant as her features, though it was also stern and demanding.

“I'm Luz," the witch in training introduces herself, holding out her hand. "Luz Noceda." The other girl simply looks at it, her golden eyes hovering on her hand momentarily before meeting Luz’s eyes.

“Amity Blight.” The girl curtsies slightly out of sheer politeness, but it's apparent that that's the only reason. “So.. are you lost or something? I can call the stable master to come get you since it seems to be your first day.”

“I'm sorry, what?” Luz tilts her head in confusion. Was this girl calling her a stable hand?

“Well, you obviously don't belong here so.. shoo.” The elf girl makes a single shooing motion with one hand as she returns to her tomes.

“Excuse me?” Luz scoffs. “For your information, I’m looking for my aunt."

“Your aunt?” Amity returns her attention to the commoner girl, single eyebrow raised in judgement.

"Yes, my aunt." Luz confirms, matching the other girls facial expression. "So freaking rude.." The brown haired girl mumbles under her breath.

Amity whips her body to face Luz in agitation, clearly having heard that - she opens her mouth to protest -

-“I'm sorry to keep you waiting, your highness.” Lilith enters the room as if summoned by her title, arms full of scrolls.

“Auntie!” Luz squeaks as she launches herself at Lilith, hugging her tightly.

“Auntie?” Amity echoes Luz in confusion as she watches her teacher pat the other girls head. She looks between the two. Her teacher, and elegant and well dressed member of the Emperor’s Knights and fellow elf, and Luz the.. human.

The gears in her head are turning more now than they ever had in all of her years of studying.

“I brought your lunch, just like mami asked me to.” Luz smiled, a beaming ray of sunshine in the otherwise dim room.

“Thank you, Luz.” Lilith returned the smile as she laid out the scrolls on a nearby table. She removed the lunch from the younger girls hands then thanked her by ruffling her hair. Luz giggled as Amity still stared in confusion. "You know.. while you're here, how do you feel about a tour of the castle?"

"What, really?" Luz exclaims, bouncing slightly with excitement. "That would be so cool!!"

Lilith steps out into the hall for a moment, hush voices following as the door closes. Amity simply huffs and crosses her arms as she awaits her mentor's return. For a brief moment she wishes her two companions Skara and Bascha were here to fill the silence with their bickering. Instead she was stuck with a human. Not exactly ideal to the young elf girl. Amity risks a glance at the strange being, the other girl simply bouncing with anticipation.

"Alright, Luz, if you go down the hall you'll meet with a girl named Willow." Lilith finally returns to the room, giving Amity a chance to relax as the human girl follows her aunt out the door.

Luz makes her way down the hall as her Aunt had described, taking in all the little details she could. She turns a corner a little too quickly and runs right into another person. The two tumble to the ground, a tangle of limbs.

“I’m so sorry!” Luz stands up first and goes to help the other person up, another young elf girl around her age. This one was slightly shorter than Luz and had fluffy dark hair. A pair of glasses laid skewed on her face as she dusted herself off with Luz’s help.

“No no, it's my fault.” The young elf girl says, adjusting her glasses. “Oh wow! You’re human.” She gasps, eyes lingering on Luz’s ears.

“Yeah, I’m Luz.” The bubbly girl introduces herself. “I was just looking for the girl who's supposed to give me a tour.”

“Thats me, I'm Willow!” The smaller girl circles Luz with excitement. “You must be Mrs. Noceda-Clawthornes daughter, then.” Willow deduces as she faces Luz once again. “It's been a big buzz around the castle, a human healer is kind of a big deal.”

“That’s my mom.” Luz beams proudly. “And one day I’ll be the first human to join the Emperor’s Knights.” She holds her hand out as if wielding a sword and swishes it around, the elf girl giggling at her antics.

“Well, let me show you the castle," Willow loops her arm with Luz's "Since you'll be working here some day."

Luz and Willow continue their walk through the castle, this time stopping every so often for Willow to give information on parts of the castle and Blight history. Finally they reach a room where the doors are wide open. Inside Luz could see a few students accompanied by a large purple horned woman who had to have been the teacher. Luz watches as the teacher ends the class, giving the students homework that insites a unified groan. The human girl waits to the side as Willow explains the Illusions class they had just witnessed. As she talks, a small elf boy who was in a very animated conversation with a set of twins, doesn't notice Luz standing there and runs right into her.

"I'm sorry!" He blurts out as he jumps back. He looks up at Luz and gasps, immediately reaching for his ears and pulling on his lobe. "Your ears! You're a human!"

"I'm starting to realize that's strange around here." Luz laughs. "I'm Luz, by the way." The girl introduces herself and holds out her hand. Before the boy can shake her hand the twins he had been talking to push him out of the way and both reach for her hand.

"Edric."

"Emira."

"Pleased to meet you." Luz shakes their hands respectively.

"Your highnesses." Willow bows to the twins, the two giving a small nod in response. "Ed and Em are the prince and princess." She explains as Luz tilts her head in confusion.

"Oooh!" Luz smiles before bowing as well. "I apologize , I'm still learning about the elven kingdom."

"Oh it's completely fine." Emira laughs. "We aren't really that big on royal stuff anyways."

"Too stuffy for our tastes." Edric adds on with a wave of his hand.

"That's only because you two get in trouble all the time." The small elf who had ran into Luz speaks up finally before returning his attention to Luz. "I'm Gus, by the way."

"Wow, you guys are all so nice." Luz smiles as she shakes Gus's hand. "A lot better then the first girl I met…"

" First girl?" Willow tilts her head.

"Yeah! She was really rude and thought I was a stable hand!" Luz grumbles, crossing her arms. "Do I look like I'm good with horses?"

"What did she look like?" Gus asks, still amazed he was getting to speak to a real life human.

"Oh, she was pale, had short green hair, and a really bad attitude." Luz counts out the descriptors on her fingers. The twins share a knowing look and Luz raises her brows in question. "Do you know her?"

"You could say that.." Edric chuckles.

"Though I never thought I would hear someone describe Mittens so plainly." Emira adds.

"Mittens?" Luz is now very confused.

"They're talking about their younger sister, Princess Amity." Gus clarifies.

"SHE WAS A PRINCESS?!" Luz practically yells before slapping a hand over her mouth. "I mean, she's a princess?"

"Mittens is actually the heir to the throne, believe it or not," Emira explains. "Mom and Dad couldn't pick between us so they picked her."

"There's more to it then that." Edric corrects his sister. "But who cares about that! Let's talk about you." Edric points to Luz.

"Me?" Luz mimics Edric, pointing to herself.

"Yeah!" Emira agrees with her brother. "A human in Bonesburough, that's exciting."

"It's been kind of terrifying, actually." Luz chuckles nervously. "But I'm happy for my mom, and ma seems to be excited to be home."

"Well, you should totally hang out with us sometime." Emira winks at Luz, getting a blush from the human girl.

"How about this weekend?" Gus speaks up, casually reminding the group that he was there. "You can come as one of our plus ones to Skara's birthday party."

"Great idea Gus!" Willow practically bounces in place. "You can hang out with us and learn about elves."

"Brilliant!" Edric and Emira speak in unison.

"So we'll see you this weekend, Luz." Gus smiles as him, Emira, and Edric leave to their next class.

"Alright, I think this brings our tour to a close." Willow claps her hands together. "I'll take you back to the front gate."

"Sure thing! And thanks for the tour!" Luz loops arms with Willow again before they both set off towards the castle gates. Willow bids Luz farewell before the human starts her trip back home.

The sun begins to set just as Luz reaches home. She enters the front door and announces her return, Eda responding with a greeting as the young girl enters the kitchen. Luz takes a seat at the table and begins to fill her Ma in on everything that happened. Eda listened intently as she prepared dinner, interjecting here and there. Eventually the two were joined by Camilia, the older woman sitting at the table across from her daughter. Luz excitedly tells her mother about all the new friends she made and their plans for this weekend.

Luz went to bed that night with plans to pick up something nice to wear to Skara’s birthday, thoughts swirling with all the new friends she just made.

Except, you know, for the princess.

#toh #the owl house #lumity #amity blight #luz noceda #lilith clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne #camilia noceda #does eda and camilia have a ship name?#eda x camilia #willow park #gus toh #edric blight #emira blight #my writing #in your honor #alternate universe #knights au

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ourplaceinthecosmosphff · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1. The Case Against Fairytales

'his eyes across a room tangled up in her imagination they had spent a lifetime together by the time he said hello' atticus

My brother died the same way he came into the world: silent, eyes closed, changing my life as I knew it.

We spent our whole lives trying to convince anyone we could that we were as regular as they were, but here's the first fundamentally different thing when you are royal: the meaning of the word ‘everyone’.

In our case, we usually mean anyone in the country, most of the international media, and at least a sizeable majority of the world's population. It's not that everyone knew us... it's just that enough people did. Enough for it to be easier to call them 'everyone'.

When my brother Louis was born, mom had been rushed to the hospital in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. The press was notified, they promptly set up camp at the hospital entrance, and the people started prayer campaigns to the safe arrival of their new prince and heir. Everyone rejoiced at his arrival. I remember, I was there.

At three years-old, it felt like everyone was every single person in the planet. It was mostly just the people in our country; to everyone else, his birth was a quick, short line of announcement, maybe some notice to the fact that the newborn baby boy was taking his older sister's place as heir, and not much else.

When he died, everyone was every single person in the planet. The second thing fundamentally different when you are a royal: from a very early age you must learn that tragedy sells more than joy. And in any constitutional monarchy country, a royal family is merely another commodity.

A few people talked about my early graduation from University. A lot more people talked about my boyfriend breaking up with me. There were a few articles about my little sister's victory at the ice-skating junior final. When she fell on her face in front of the cameras while attempting a risky move, she went viral. When my brother came into our lives, a few people took notice.

When he left us, everyone did.

---- ---- ---- ----

I, too, am a victim of culture appropriation. Since the dawn of time, from the moment humankind developed communication skills, there has been storytelling. And for the past few thousands of years most stories that parents tell their young as they tuck them into their blankets every night, have been about my culture. As far as that goes, it is not the most damaging kind of culture appropriation. But I have a duty today, and I will not shy away from it. I am sorry to say I must, and will, shatter the beautiful image of fairytales that kids have been fed for so many years now.

I know what you are thinking – oh, boo-hoo, the poor little princess girl; is life too difficult in your beautiful palace with all the money a person could ever need? And yes, I know. I am not a victim. The same colonialism that placed my ancestors, and therefore, me, in the position of privilege and power I am in today has created many more actual victims around the world. But that is also why I must tell this story the way it was always meant to be told: truthfully. With all the weird, awkward, awful, bits and pieces that fairytales tend to skip.

Fairytales would, for instance, skip straight to the grand, majestic welcome ceremony between the Queen of the United Kingdom and the King of Savoy in a sun floored courtyard with guards on tall, furry black hats strutting around, standing in a red-carpeted dais, with a handsome prince making eyes at me. But in my story, we will start with the train.

That’s right, in modern fairytales you don’t take a lovely carriage ride to a neighboring kingdom. You take a train there – a commercial train, if you can, because modern times beg for demonstrating to the masses that the Monarch isn’t throwing money around. We were trying to highlight the easy routes of access to our neighbors to the northeast, and so we took the ferry across the Celtic Sea to Hugh Town Island and from there, Eurostar number 2 train that made a quick stop in Penzance, UK, and then went straight to London.

The train ride isn’t comfortable – even if you have a first class private car. It’s bumpy and crowded and a terrible place to spend three straight hours. On that particular morning, I was in our car with my father, his household secretary Auguste, my private aide, Cadie, and a few other staff members.

In fairytale world, when a princess does not look the part, there is usually the appearance of a fairy godmother who sings a nice song and magically transforms her into a Proper Princess™. There is no fairy godmothers when you are a real princess- real ones, sure, but they are not magical-, but you do learn from an early age what a Proper Princess™ should look like, act like, and sound like, and god forbid you don't.

In the train that day, I heard all that was keeping me from being Proper™ from Auguste, who was in many ways the exact opposite of a fairy godmother. He had all the menacing authority of one, with none of the charm. He also didn’t have wings or a sparkly wand; he had greying short hair, and thin, small, reading glasses that he always pushed down to the tip of his nose to look above, which made me wonder what was the point of the glasses at all.

Before our arrival, I had to change my lipstick, which was too dark, my dress, which was too short at the daring height of above my knees, my shoes, which were open toed and therefore wrong, and finally, make sure to brush my hair once more.

My parents never subscribed to the idea that we were forbidden to do anything. They were raised on stern rules and heavily traditional costumes and wanted their kids to live more freely. So, growing up, they revolutionarily told us that we were free to be whoever we wanted to be – in private. In public, we had an obligation to be Proper™. After all, as I heard repeatedly growing up: royals don’t make mistakes, we make history; and history remembers.

So, yes. I, a grown, 25 years-old, law-school graduate, bar-approved acquisitions lawyer, changed out of my dress into a more proper one because my dad asked. Because as a princess, you’re never just yourself; you’re the country. And if your country comes from a Roman Catholic tradition, your hemlines must reflect that, no matter what century it is.

The country in question was just to the south of the United Kingdom, west of France, a large island named Savoie. The English call it Savoy, which is how it was pronounced anyway. It was originally populated by the Irish, but over the years it was conquered by the English, the Spanish, and the Portuguese until finally, in the 13th Century, it was conquered by France. It was bigger than Ireland, but smaller than England, and one of the biggest GDPs in the world, with a population of 49 million. Under the reign of Louis XV, however, France lost most of its possessions after its defeat in the Seven Years' War, and to secure Savoy, the king sent part of the court to live there and to reign in his stead as his emissaries. Louis XV's reign grew weak, including his ill-advised financial, political and military decisions, which discredited the monarchy and arguably led to the French Revolution 15 years after his death. France dealt with its dissatisfaction by revolting, Savoy however, secluded away at sea, decided to declare independence before the Revolution had even taken steam. The political leaders of the Island reached an agreement with the king's emissary, Prince Louis, the highest ranking monarch on the island; in exchange for support for the severance of all connection to France, he was then made King Louis I of Savoy. The Royal House of Savoy grew steady and strong by protecting its people and assuring them a freer, better life than the one they'd known under French reign.

A few years later, I sat on that train in front of the current King of Savoy. My father.

“You look beautiful, Maggie.”

“Thank you.”

“The other dress was beautiful as well. Just not for today.”

“Mm-hm.”

A moment of silence went by. I picked up my phone and checked my emails. There was one from Sophie with the subject ‘urgent!’ so I clicked in it feeling my heart race.

It read,

‘Marie, I’m sorry to bother you on your days off, but the depositions got moved up to Monday and we can’t find the notes on the manager deposition, you were the one who did them. Is there any chance you have a copy and if so can you send them to me? Enjoy England! XO Soph’

Sighing, I put down my phone and quickly found my laptop on my suitcase. I turned it on as I replied to Sophie’s email to tell her to expect my deposition notes shortly.

“You know if we could I’d let you wear whatever you wanted.” Dad added as I logged into my computer.

“I do.”

I moved quickly through my folders realizing the most recent update on my notes hadn’t been uploaded to the cloud. Sighing, I logged on to the train WiFi and checked the storage service online. It didn’t connect.

“Honestly, darling, you look even prettier with this dress.”

I looked up, mentally wondering if the previous versions of the notes would be useful.

“This isn’t about the dress.”

I realized, then, that it wouldn’t matter anyway because I wouldn’t be able to send them to Sophie without internet. I looked out the window, realizing perhaps too late that we were in the tunnel, underwater. Of course there wasn’t internet.

“Well, what is it about?” Dad asked, putting his book marker back inside the page he was on and laying down the book to give me his full attention.

“Work, papa. I have a job.”

“Yes, and it’s your day off. Maybe you should try and turn off from work for the next few days?”

I smiled down to my computer, “maybe this is a conversation for another time.”

Dad adjusted his posture, looking a little taller, and looked around the room to Cadie and Auguste sitting in a booth nearby with our private hair and make-up artist, and dad’s footman, and personal aide.

“Excuse me, everyone, would you be so kind as to give us the room? Or, uh, the car? There is a little lounge outside, isn’t there?”

“Of course, sir.” Auguste said, jumping up immediately with the aide, and Cadie and Cass, the make-up artist, followed.

After they had left and closed the door behind them, I looked at my father. He lurched back in his seat and smiled at me.

“Go on,” he said. “If you don’t scream I don’t think they’ll hear us.”

“Why would I scream?”

“I don’t know, Maggie. But I don’t know why you would be so passive aggressive, either. Can you tell me?”

“What do you want, dad?”

In truth, I added the ‘dad’ at the end of the sentence to make it sound less aggressive, but as he stared at me, I felt uncomfortable not explaining myself.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”, I asked, tiredly. “I’m here, wearing a proper, long, not-slutty dress-“

“No one here used that word-“

“My toes will be perfectly hidden away when we arrive, I have hidden my ugly, evil legs under some stockings-“

“Really, Maggie, no one said your legs were-“

“My make-up is light and my hair is simple and non-threatening. I know not to smile too much or too little and to let the adults lead the conversation”, I said, the word ‘adults’ dangling bitterly from me lips. “And not to walk ahead of you, but always behind, taking your lead.”

“You make it sound so stiff and calculated.”

“And I have taken time off of work to be here.” I said. “All other Junior Associates are working overtime and through weekends to cash in as many billable hours as possible to be promoted to Full-time Associates, and instead I took off four days to travel with my dad.”

“Work, for work!”

“So, again, what do you want? How else am I not meeting your expectations?”

I spoke calmly, gently, and as low a volume as I could just to confront his joke not a minute before about how if I didn’t scream the others wouldn’t hear us. I made sure to be as poised and contained as I could. He heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry you had to take time off work.”

I waited, as he stared in his usual lovingly, patient way. I smiled, more as a peace offering than genuinely.

“You know very well they won’t fire you.”

Still, I was quiet, smiling as sincerely as I could.

“And I know that isn’t fair, but there’s nothing I can do about it. So tell me something I can do and I will.”

“Okay.” I said, nodding. “I want your honesty. Don’t treat me like a child you need to protect, don’t patronize me. All I want is an honest answer.”

He adjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat. “Alright. Go on.”

“Why am I here, papa?”

He blinked, seemingly confused. I could tell he expected a harder question.

“Your- Because your mother sprained her ankle?” he answered, still unsure. “What- do you mean philosophically? Why are any of us here, really? I don’t understand.”

I tried not to smile. “I mean I have a life. I am not your heir. Louis is your heir, it is his job to help you when mom has emergencies.”

He sighed deeply, finally arriving at the same page where I was.

“Your brother is in school.” He said. “And you are our oldest child. So, I’m sorry if it disrupts your life, Maggie. But you are needed.”

“And after school?” I asked “His graduation is in 6 months. Are you telling me that after he graduates university and moves back home, when he is starting his career, maybe moving to the capital, when you and mom have an emergency, you will call him up instead of me?”

He gave the table a sad smile. “If that is your wish, yes.”

“So that’s all, then?” I confirmed, suspiciously. “He moves back after graduation and you will give me the space I need?”

He smiled. “Is that what you want, then?” it wasn’t a confirmation. It was a tone of accomplishment. Of finally realizing what was it that I wanted, as if this entire conversation that’s what he had been trying to find out.

“I went to school for years. I interned for a year. I studied hard for the bar exams in America and Savoy. Yes, dad, I want to use the degree I worked hard for.”

“Okay, then. We will give you space.” He said. “Space from us, to be who you want to be. To be normal.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling, slightly amused at his dramatics. “That is not what I meant.”

“But it is accurate.”

“Papa...” I sighed.

“I’m just saying, sweetheart, I understand.” He insisted. “It’s why you went to America for University, it’s why you are based on the capital now. As long as you’re too close to us, you can’t live a normal life.”

“I can never live a normal life. We are not normal.”

“But you wish to try.”

I chuckled. “How?! You said it yourself, they will never fire me. My firm, I mean. Wherever I am, I am never just me and my degree and my career. People look at me and see you, as if I am you. I am their King. I am the Royal Family of Savoy. They’ll never take me seriously or afford me the same opportunities as everyone, because I am not everyone.”

He nodded, slowly, then sighed. “Yikes. You’re right. That sounds tough.”

“And I’m the passive aggressive one?”

“Job security and the attention of your bosses. That sounds awful.”

“Papa...”

“You want the space to dedicate yourself to your career without us pulling you away for royal work. Is that it? Okay. You got it. As soon as your brother is back from University, I will make sure you’re only needed for official events, and only if you’re not working.”

He sounded serious now. Sincere as when he delivered the End of Year address every Christmas, which was meaningful. Getting dad to afford me the same seriousness he afforded his subjects was as much seriousness as I could get from him. Still, there was no mistaking the sadness in his eyes.

“Even before his affirmation ceremony?” I asked, trying to sniff around for a trick.

The affirmation ceremony was meant to make clear to the country that an heir to throne had the seal of approval of the Monarch, and it usually happened when the heir was 21 years of age, to signify the Monarch believed in the event of a tragedy, the heir was ready to rule. In modern times, it meant an heir was ready to start working as a full-time royal. Though my brother was 22, the family had decided to wait until he had graduated university to do his ceremony.

Dad took longer than I wished, but finally, he nodded. “Yes. I promise.”

If you’re paying attention, then you might have noticed the math doesn’t add up. How come my 22 years-old brother is the heir when I said I am 25, the oldest child? Well, as with most fairytales, as well as with most of life, the problem is the patriarchy. For the thing is, though I was older than Louis by three years, because I was born a girl, he became the heir when he was born. So, at three, I went from future-Queen to lower ranking older sister.

It wasn’t unusual, my father himself had two older sisters who were lower than him and his brothers in the line of succession. As a result we had older cousins who we outranked. I cared about all this at 25 the same as when I was 3: not at all.

Absolute primogeniture law was passed in Savoy when I was 5, propelled by my birth and the new times. It was, however, not retroactive. This meant the law was changed for future births, not past ones, so all girls born after the law came into effect would be heirs in their own right, no matter how many brothers they got after, and all girls born before would go into history as having missed it by ‘just a bit’.

Louis and I, though, didn’t sit around having long discussions about who would be a better ruler. There has never been an instance in which we were arguing and I yelled something like, “first you stole my throne and now you stole my cookies! I hate you!”. For us this was just a little footnote in the family tree. A little fun fact to tell our future kids one day. And although I couldn’t remember what it felt like, I always knew it was much better not having to be the Crown Princess of Savoy.

---- ---- ---- ----

When we finally reached Penzance, the small town in the tip of the isle of England where sat the second Eurostar station, I was able to finally connect to the internet. My father left our train car to walk about with his security because he wanted to witness the new English policy of installing a check-point at the entry due to the immigrant crisis – a huge part of why we were there. While he did that, I sent Sophie my notes on the deposition, and answered some messages.

There was one from Louis, my aforementioned brother:

‘are you close?’

And one from our baby sister, Lourdes:

‘what do you think??!!!!!!!!’, with an attachment of two videos.

And, lastly, one from my mother, Her Majesty Queen Amelie-Elyse, back home with a sprained ankle.

‘Hope all is well! Let me know when you’re with your brother. Don’t forget to let your hair down before leaving the train!’

She didn’t mean it in a philosophical, have fun kind of way. She literally meant let my hair down, apparently it softened my features.

I replied to her with a selfie, with my hair properly brushed and down, in preparation for the arrival in London, which was close now. Let Louis know we were almost there. And sent a quick, uncommitted ‘woah!’ to my sister, without opening her attachments. They were always the same: videos of her practicing. There was only so much ice skating I could watch in a lifetime.

My mom answered my text with, “why did you change your dress?!”

I sighed, getting ready to justify this decision as well, already anticipating she would argue that the fascinator wouldn’t go with this one dress, so I told her I already had another fascinator standing by.

Growing up with fairytales they don’t tell you about the little annoying details. Characters who are annoying usually are the villains, the ones the Princess escapes from, usually saved by the prince. They don’t tell you sometimes, actually a lot of the times, the people you love can be equally as annoying.

---- ---- ---- ----

When we arrived at the station in London, I was already wearing my disc fascinator in a light shade of blue matching both my lace dress, this time reaching all the way to my ankles, and eyes. We were quickly greeted by the Savoyen Ambassador to England in front of the press, and escorted into government cars towards Whitehall.

The large parade ground was a traditional courtyard in central London that usually housed ceremonies related to the military and the royal family. When we arrived, the day finally was washed in a feeling of ceremony.

The place was lined neatly with military guards, security barricades and the Scotland Yard Police kept watchers and paparazzi at bay, the press lined up inside to have the best view of all involved. As we arrived, the traditional 41 gun salute was already sounding on. A military band was playing. People waved and yelled hello as we drove inside. I suddenly knew what to do, as if my body had the gene for it. This was one thing that was definitely genetic.

I stepped out of the car delicately, smoothly, knees together like a proper lady, polite smile on my lips in thanks to the guard who saluted as I left. My father greeted a handler who escorted us to the front of all the lined guards, where three structures had been set up: one large one in the middle, with a red-carpeted stage and a large roof, the British Royal Coat of Arms in the center with the British flag to its right and the Savoy flag to its left. Decorative flowers and elegant plants here and there. Two smaller, simpler structures to both of its sides. Inside all of them, men and women in formal suits and ties and knee-length, appropriate dresses and hats.

We walked the grovel path to the larger structure as the band played and the press, lined up in front of this platform, took their photographs. My father climbed the steps first, quickly being received by the small, elder, lady in a lavender overcoat and matching hat, impressive set of pearls dangling from her neck. She smiled as he lowered himself down to kiss both her cheeks warmly.

The queen then looked at me and I approached, just as our handler told Her Majesty:

“And may I present, Her Royal Highness, Princess Marie-Margueritte of Savoy.”

I lowered myself in a curtsy, and as she extended her hands to hold mine, I also kissed her cheeks, trying to avoid knocking her hat with mine.

“Welcome.” She smiled. “I hope the ride was forgiving.”

“Very comfortable.” My father told her. “Always surprising how fast it is.”

“Yes. You’ll remember, I’m sure, the Prince of Wales.” She said, walking us to the center of the platform where another two men awaited.

My father and the Prince of Wales greeted each other warmly, they were more used to running in the same circles – royal weddings here and there, international summits and meetings, or whatever it is they do.

“We’re so glad to have you.” He told my father.

“I don’t know if you’ve met my daughter, Princess Marie-Margueritte.”

Smiling, I curtsied to the Prince of Wales as he held my hand, before kissing my cheeks.

“You brighten this day, Your Royal Highness.” He told me, before stepping closer to add, in a whisper. “Sorry you have been dragged to this.”

I giggled, “I’m happy to be here, sir.”

Straightening up, he noticed my father was already greeting the man behind him. “Hopefully we won’t bore you too much. I have tried to bring someone else closer to your age. Have you met my son?”

The handler didn’t know it, but there were no introductions necessary. And yet, all I could do was smile politely as we were introduced to:

“His Royal Highness, Prince Harry of Wales.”

I wondered, for a moment, if he would acknowledge that we already knew each other.

“It’s a pleasure, Your Royal Highness.” Holding my hand in his, he brought my knuckles to his lips.

The answer was, obviously, no. So I lowered myself again in a curtsy as an excuse to avert my eyes from his.

I couldn’t understand why, but I had been unprepared for him. With all of Auguste’s preparation, all the briefings, with all the preachings about my appearance, no one had prepared me for him. I don’t know if it was that, like me, he was one of the youngest there, or how absurdly, almost ridiculously tall he was, or maybe how the blue in his eyes contrasted with the red of his hair, but he just… stunned me. When he kissed my hand, his eyes traveled down my legs all the way back to pierce mine, igniting a wave of electricity down my spine I was unable to control.

He leaned back, and there we stood, hand in hand, wordlessly.

“You can follow the King, ma’am.” Auguste whispered behind me, his voice making me jump slightly, as I quickly pulled my hand from Harry’s, not before realizing he had something scribbled on his palm.

My father and the Queen were deep in conversation, with Charles besides them, as they reached the center of the platform to watch the guards. The Queen in the middle, my father to her right, and the Prince of Wales to her left, I walked forward to stand beside my father, while Prince Harry walked to his.

We waited just a moment, and then the band started playing the Savoy National Anthem, and the British Anthem after it. A few words said, more ceremony here and there, and the Prince Wales formally invited my father to inspect the Guards, so they left together, accompanied by one of the military leaders to walk among the rolls of guards, as the three of us stood behind to watch.

“I was sorry to hear about your mother, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I said, looking regretful, walking towards her, closing the gap left behind by the others. “She was sorry she couldn’t be here.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious.” Prince Harry interjected.

“A sprained ankle.” I explained, looking ahead.

“Harry is also here after a small hiccup with the Duchess of Cornwall, my daughter-in-law.” His grandmother told me. “An illness in her family, nothing serious.”

“Hopefully I’ll have time to meet her before we leave.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” She nodded. “How did you mother hurt herself?”

“Horse fall. She was never very fond of Polo, I’m afraid this will drive her further away from it.”

“Oh, that is regretful.” The Queen said.

Harry looked at me. “Do you play?”

“I do, sir.”

“Harry is very good,” his grandmother told me, “he will be the one playing with you in the charity match in the coming days.”

“I look forward to-“, I started, but Harry had started the exact same sentence. We locked eyes, and chuckled.

“You first.” I said.

“Please, I insist.” He responded, cheeks reddening.

His grandmother looked between us, and then back to the uniformed men in front. She then said, in a low tone, something I would spend a large part of the upcoming months thinking obsessively about:

“Be careful with him... He will charm you, but he is a heartbreaker.”

The words astonished me so much I looked at her, unsure she had actually said them. But she had, clearly, because Harry was also looking at her, quite shocked.

“Granny!” he complained, in such a whiny tone I broke into laughter.

“Do I lie?” She asked him, grinning. It only made him look more shocked.

“Don’t ruin my reputation in front of foreign royals!” he said, in a low tone, before looking at me. “Specially such pretty ones.”

My giggle froze in my throat under his intense glare, and I could feel my cheeks reddening.

The Queen looked at me. “Oh, you’re blushing. It’s too late, I see.”

It was.

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----

Margueritte’s outfit

The ask box is open! Let me know your thoughts? And if at all possible, like this page so I know you liked it? Thank you so much!

[A/N: Attention: by continuing to read you are accepting that some sad stuff is coming. You been warned. Thanks for checking this out! Let me know your thoughts?? thanks!!!!]

[A/N2: Hey! Nat here. I wanted to talk a little more about the story we are about to go on together.

In the upcoming chapters you will be introduced to the Royal Family of Savoy, a fictitious European country right below the UK, to left of France. When I first posted a fanfiction, FIUYMI, I made the main character latina, since that’s what I am, and I had previously felt that I couldn’t relate to other characters I had read. In this one, however, I decided I wanted to write about a fictitious monarchy, and I knew I wanted to make it as realistic as possible.

As much as I wanted at many points in the story to make the character look more like me, the idea felt like cheating: Margueritte is a blood royal, born to a life of specific privileges and hardships, and pretending she could look like the type of people who don’t have white privilege would be trying to ignore a very real issue: all monarchies - past and present - existed, lasted and gathered riches on the back of people of color. Most of their descendants still carry white and wealth privilege because these royal families, however many years ago, supported and perpetuated colonialism and white supremacy that left countless countries and their populations still recovering today.

That is a legacy Margueritte didn’t chose, and which she also doesn’t have to face, but in this story she will chose too. As you’ll see, she finds herself in a much more influential position she thought she would have, and as such she realizes she has two options: she can stick to the message her family - and other royal families - have perpetuated for generations and keep her head high, mouth and ears shut, so their legacy can survive; or she can chose to be a modern Queen who will make the institution relevant again. I want to write about this because this issue is important for the times we live in, particularly after the way the Duchess of Sussex was treated in the United Kingdom.

What that will look like will depend on who Margueritte is as a person and whose advice she takes, and that is a journey I hope you’ll take with us =) ]

#prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #princeharryff #royalfanficcollection #princeharryfanfiction #princeharryfanfic #brf #fanfic #fanfiction #modern royalty fanfic #chapters #modern royalty au #im so excited about this story #but also like #really nervous #i missed this

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 4 years

Text

Chapter Three (Knight AU)

Be Yours

Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: Talks of war/violence and forced marriages, Language (I may be missing more I apologize)

Word Count: 2.2K+

A/N: This took forever for me to get out. The next chapter will have more Din and James content and background!

*I’m reposting this because I went through another tumblr glitch (which they said should never happen again so let’s hope!) and my fic kinda disappeared from the tags

***

James Newsome.

That name made you tremble with pure anger.

The only son to the Newsome Heir, Prince of Coalstead, and one of the most infuriating men you had ever come across.

You had first met him when you had just turned fifteen, in his home in the smoky, dark yet elegant kingdom that made you appreciate the grassy lands that surrounded yours. Your fathers were quick to introduce the two of you; even at a young age, James had the ego of a thousand kings that immediately butted heads with your ‘righteous morality’ as he grew to call it, but you didn’t fully realize this until you began to see his true colors. It wasn’t hard to deduce what your fathers were up to, and your suspicions about this abrupt meeting were answered when he teased you about it.

“I think our fathers want us to marry,” he said in a mediocre sing-song. “Another kingdom for the taking, another queen to—”

You kicked him before he could continue.

From then on out the entire trip was full of arguing and bickering that even your guards couldn’t get under control, and each time he would give you that smile—one of victory and cheekiness you wanted to slap off. Jules, who had gone with you of course, ogled him just as every other girl did when he walked by much to your chagrin; you hoped it still wasn’t so.

“You’re just letting him get the best of you.” Jules said. She ran her fingers through your hair carefully as she brushed out the harsh tangles from your restless night. “And besides, it’s not like he’s… well, unfortunate looking.”

You grimaced. Sometimes, you wondered about your friend. “You’re not helping, Jules. And you know that it goes beyond his looks.”

She huffed as she took a part of your hair and clipped so that one side was out of your face, her annoyed expression matching your own in the vanity mirror.

‘Good’, you thought.

“Well,” she said after clipping the other half of your locks. “You’re the Princess of Riverheart and the most stubborn woman I have ever met.” You couldn’t stifle the grin that also laced her lips and Jules chuckled. “So do something about it, then.”

“Yeah.” You nodded with authority. “That’s right.” You stood up abruptly, twirling around to pull Jules into a tight hug, ignoring her surprised yelp. “Thank you.”

Your steps echoed loudly through the empty halls, sharp and defined as confidence bubbled inside of your chest with a fury. You whipped your head around every corner, not a glimpse of familiar aging hair or colorful robes at every turn. He wasn’t even in the grand hall, odd to you at the early hours but not uncommon.

Where the devil is he?

It was a long shot, going to your precious garden. Bringham rarely made an appearance, and you supposed it had everything to do with the dead; too many memories. As you expected, he wasn’t.

With a long and heavy sigh you sat down in the rays of the seething sun and twirled a strand of grass around your pointer finger. You closed your eyes and basked in the warmth of the morning, replaying the night before in your head.

“And you’ve told no one else this?” You asked, swallowing through the shock of what Din had just told you.

“No,” Din answered. “No one out of the Royal Court knows of this.”

You nodded, staring at the floor. “Okay.” Your voice wavered through your authoritative tone. “Okay.”

“M’lady.” Din cleared his throat. “You must’n let your father know I told you this. I—”

“I’m aware,” you gritted out. “I promise you, you will face no consequences for this.”

“I didn’t mean to… overstep. I’m sorry.”

You sighed and shook your head, burying your face in your hands. “No,” you mumbled. “I shouldn’t take my anger out on you. After all, you’re not the one forcing me into this.”

The room filled with silence then, a silence filled with understanding and a sort of acceptance.

“Din,” you said gently. “Thank you.”

The Knight stood postured, as he was trained, but there was a slight shift that told you that your sincerity reached a certain part of him you had not touched.

“It’s my job.” He replied. “It is the Code.”

You wished you had the blood of a witch so you could read his mind. To unbrand him and disintegrate the armor that shielded him from the outside world. It was selfish, very selfish of you, you constantly reminded yourself, but that childlike curiosity was a monster to fight; a battle you seemed to lose each and every time.

“Ah, and there she is.”

Your heart stopped. That voice hadn’t changed much since the last time you saw him, but he had definitely grown out of his boyish features; now replaced with a sharp jaw and cheekbones that matched, floofy, short brown locks that actually kept the younger boy you had met so long ago, with a black coat that defined the muscles he obtained over the years, and a toothy grin that was nothing but hubris as he stood a few feet before you.

“James,” you greeted coolly. “A surprise to see you here.”

His grin widened. “And did you not miss me, little princess?”

You glared at the pet name. “No, and I believe I told you not to call me that.”

He chuckled, all confident and airy as he strolled towards you, bringing an apple out of his coat pocket. “You certainly haven’t changed… much.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he walks closer to you, rolling the red apple in his hand, “that you need to loosen up. Let your guard down little princess, you’re not a queen yet, so enjoy it.”

He ended with an offering, the apple just inches away from the tip of your nose. You swiped it out of his grip with a frown. “And here you are already giving me a lecture.”

His grin widened. “I know. But you see,” he did a little twirl, inhaling deeply and opening his arms towards the clear blue skies, “people can change.”

You took a bite of the sweet fruit, chewing thoughtfully. “While that is true,” you mumbled. “That only applies to someone who actually wants to change for the better, not because they’re in need of their father’s treasures.”

James’s smile fell, as did his brows, and it made you smirk behind the apple. After all these years, it felt nice that you could still get underneath his skin and rip him a new one—the only problem was that you were still letting him do the same thing to you.

“And how does dear ole daddy feel knowing that his only heir is having doubts?!” He smirked as your expression fell. “He does know, doesn’t he?”

You could feel the blood rush to your face, painting it into a hot red that had you seething in your spot. Everything turned into background noise—no, not even that, everything just went numb, and before you could even think or take the next breath, the apple flew from your hand and towards his chest.

“Hey—” he barely got out in surprise when you lunged at him.

You didn’t have specifics in mind, but you knew that you just wanted to hurt him; to give him a piece of his own medicine through the only way that flew through your head. Your hand cocked back, knuckles upfront as you swung and you were vaguely aware of the soft crunch of his nose beneath your fist.

“Son of a bitch!” James howled, clutching at his face, little droplets of blood already seeping through the cracks of his fingers.

You smiled, triumphant in your stand, but it was quickly shattered when you heard the familiar pounding of hooves coming towards the garden.

“And what is going on here?”

Ah, you recognized that voice.

“Oh you know, Perry,” James sighed nasually, “the usual bits.”

Perry, a rather short man with a big rounded nose and a permanent sneer on his lips that matched the yellowish look of his hazel eyes—you imagined those eyes would look rather beautiful and clear without the harshness he brought to them—eyed the Prince’s bloody hand and your clenched fists; no doubt he could pick out the specs of blood on your knuckles.

As you expected, the guard turned towards you with no hidden malice. “What do you think you’re doing attacking—”

“It’s fine.” James huffed loudly. “I can take care of this myself.”

You were shocked to say the least, and it must have shown vividly on your face because James’s cheeks scrunched up to the corner of his eyes—he was laughing at you.

And Perry sat on his horse—at least the horse was well taken care of, as far as you could tell—gritting his teeth in frustration as he knew best not to go against his word.

“Very well. Remember to arrive on time for dinner, your highness.”

James waved him off, not taking his eyes off you; you held his gaze, refusing to back down. Finally he chuckled, wincing in pain as he did, but kept that smile all the while.

“You know, a simple thank you will suffice.”

You scoffed. “I do not owe you any apologies of sorts.”

“Not even for saving your ass back there?” He tilted his head back. “Weren’t you taught to show gratification for your saviors?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it felt as though it would stay in the back of your head, barely giving him a moment’s chance to stop you—if he had plans to—as you barreled past him.

“Do you know why I’m here?”

The question makes you stop. “No.” You lied.

He took a few steps closer to you, blue-gray eyes meeting yours with no traces of teasing—a first for him.

“I’m not supposed to be here, actually,” he sidetracked from his previous question. “But I was a little curious.”

It was a trap, you could sense it, and you knew better than to fall for it, but the words escaped your mouth without a second thought. “About what?”

His grin widened, pearly white teeth among the tiny streaks of blood from his nose. “If you were going to be happy seeing your soon-to-be husband.”

You walked away before you could give him any more satisfaction; his chuckle echoed across your mother’s garden, following your heavy steps.

***

The rain pattered against the rooftop.

It was a calming feeling in contrast to the brewing anger and frustration inside your chest. Each thump against your window echoed in your heartbeat, and as you sat in your room, refusing to let anyone in, your thoughts ran rampant.

How could your father not warn you of this? Prepare you for the heavy tasks that were bestowed upon you since birth by royal right, instead of throwing you head first into a marriage you’ve never asked for, and for a war you have no idea how to fight and by his own excuses.

The problem was that you knew of his reasoning’s. You had been prepared for a daunting title since you could walk and talk, and the aspects of a marriage you would not be able to turn down no longer—not without a good fight, at least. Your mind could contradict itself a thousand times just to try and make you feel better, but the end result would remain the same; you were going to have to go through with this, no matter how much you disliked the idea of it.

“‘For your people,’” you mocked with a scowl. “For my people.”

It made your heart turn in its weeping, struggling to overcome the waves of disdain. At that moment, you wished your mother were there, comforting you and telling you everything you wanted to hear, anything to justify your departure from the title itself.

“Wars. Death. Magic even.”

It shook you to the core just thinking about what was coming for your kingdom, your home. And now, all the weight was atop your shoulders, the lives of many in your hands for the first time, and you had no idea whatsoever on how you were going to handle this—marrying James and aligning Coalstead and Riverheart was a start, a start you thought less of.

Suddenly your mind drifted to the man who relayed this message to you in secret, and remembered that you had not seen him at all since last night. You wanted, no, needed, to see him before you let your head get the best of you; you could talk to him without worrying of him betraying your trust and he seemed to be the only one (other than insufferable fool) that was forthright with you about everything.

It would have to wait until after supper. You didn’t need any more suspicions from your father nor anyone else in the guard that would turn you in in a heartbeat. You needed to be smart and careful about this, no matter the battle raging between your head and heart.

If the rumors were true, your step to the high chair was coming sooner than you thought.

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian au #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #knight au #pedro pascal

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shxwmaster · 4 years

Text

@archmage--khadgar sent: retrouvaille - the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation; rediscovery

✧°⋆ 𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞 ————send in a word for a drabble or starter based on it.

——

(( I don’t know how canon I want to make this just yet BUT I was hit with a specific idea that I had to run with. Shaw doesn’t have many people he can reunite with, let alone feel happy about it, but this is... ONE. ))

...

[ARCHIVE: YEAR 32 — LOG SHW009876]

Shaw owes his life to the Uncrowned. Without them, he’d still be suffering, still be trapped as Stormwind crumbles under the influence of Detheroc wearing his face. Or, more mercifully, he would have died there, starved, infected, weak, pathetic. They’d saved him, saved Stormwind, spared them from an unnecessary war — he loathed that such an intense debt was placed on him.

Some time after his rescue, and after defeating Detheroc in Stormwind, he returned with the Champions and the rogues into the Uncrowned’s hideout. He pledged his loyalty, he thanked them, and he sought to get straight to work.

But he was weakened already from the months of imprisonment, and moreso from a neglected wound in the fight at SI:7 against the dreadlord. Ravenholdt and the others set out to get back to business, and he collapsed.

Infection, he remembers hearing someone say as he was being tended to. He was in and out, barely registering what was happening. Laid to a bed, cold cloth to his head, someone dressing a wound at his side he hadn’t noticed festered with fel. They called a priest from the Netherlight Temple, and he was given a strict order: rest.

Through the fever, he drifted, coming to now and then. How aggravating, to lose such control. Any of these rogues could have their way with him, and he’d be helpless to it, but he hardly has the strength to fuss and fight over it.

He awakes briefly to the sound of a door opening, his head spinning with the effort it takes to lift it to observe. A young woman, short cropped black hair and a stark red bandana toting a tray of tea had entered.

Vanessa.

He drops his head back down to the pillow, letting out a shaky laugh. “ So it seems I’m dying, then. ”

Vanessa gave pause, gaze flicking towards him briefly before continuing, setting the tray at the nightstand beside him. “ So negative. What makes the great Master Shaw say so? ”

His head lulls to the side, facing away from her. There’s an emotion caught in his throat he can’t quite identify. Grief? Fear? Sorrow? Humor? It’s all so tangled, and his limbs are so cold. “ It’s not the first time I’ve been stuck like this. Wounded. At the brink of death. Funny how sickness makes you see things. ”

“ Hmm. And funny how fevers always bring the most dramatic out of the finest soldiers. ”

He’s quiet for a long moment, enough that Vanessa wondered if he’d drifted off. “ I was seventeen. Tried to outrun orcs, fell off a wall, broke my shin. It was rainy and muddy, exposed bone was wrought to infection. I’d almost died — funny things, I saw, battling that fever. I hallucinated the dead. I thought I had saw my mother, but I didn’t remember her face. All so... wrong. ”

His voice lacks the usual restraint he would give it, so loose and strained it was. Delirious — the fever is perhaps worse than she’d anticipated. He rolls his head back to see her, tired green eyes searching hers, his face pallor and sweaty. Unbecoming.

“ I wish you were real. ”

Ah. That’s what this was. Vanessa doesn’t say anything, simply turning away from him to pour the cup of tea. He still has his gaze on her, however conscious he is, and for whatever reason, Vanessa can’t look at him.

“ You think you’re hallucinating. ”

“ I am. I read the field reports. I already know... ” He forces his head up to stare at the ceiling, vision spinning and blurring. “ I... I was never given a chance to say goodbye to you. After the riots, your father and I — we fought, Light, I could not... I had come home one day and you were gone. I wasn’t given a chance. ”

“ You had plenty of chances, Shaw, ” She says harshly, quiet voice spoken through gritted teeth. “ You sent your agents after the Defias. You knew what happened, you knew they were innocent. You could have come with us. ”

“ I am blood-bound to Stormwind, Vanessa. There was no choice for me. ”

“ There’s always a choice. You chose a broken kingdom over us. ”

He closes his eyes tightly, feeling the brunt of the dizziness wash over him. The pain is deserved, he feels. It’d be mercy if the infection killed him. “ I live with my mistakes. They haunt me every day, everything I could have done differently. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish I could have done more. Saved him. ” He pauses, and on these last words, his voice breaks. “ Saved you. ”

Vanessa stirs the cup of tea, mostly to avoid looking at him directly and to keep her hands busy. “ How noble, ” She says, retrieving a small, black vial from her belt. Just as practiced, just as planned. “ Those thoughts do much for us now, doesn’t it. ”

“ I prayed, Vanessa. I believe in nothing, not a single higher power but I prayed that you could have had a chance at a different life. After Edwin... — the Saldeans, they could have taken care of you. Given you a different path. You did not need to be confined to your father’s footsteps. ”

Her fingers are on the vial’s cork, ready to pop it open, but a thought stops her. She snaps her head to him, searching his bleary expression with furrowed brows as a realization dawns on her. “ ... You were the bandit that escorted me from the Mines... weren’t you? ”

“ You were just a kid... They orphaned you. Left you with nothing. Left the Brotherhood with nothing. They killed him, and did not bother to see what consequences were left behind. I had to look for you — I had to at least give you a chance. ”

She abandons the vial on the tray, reaching to his bedside to grasp his jaw and force him to look at her. There’s no strength to him; his head is loose with no indication that he can fight back. “ You went all that way — you found me, and you abandoned me at the Saldeans?! ”

The touch almost feels real — this image of Vanessa fills his blurred vision. Those fine angled brows resembled Edwin’s so much, those piercing blue eyes, that charcoal hair — it twists his gut and fills his heart with sorrow. “ They would have given you a normal life. ”

“ Why... Why didn’t you just take me? ”

The pain in her voice makes his eyes sting. Desperately, he had wanted to take her. Edwin was dead, and she was left with nothing — he hadn’t seen her in ten years but he could still raise her, still give her all the opportunities Stormwind had to offer, had the SI:7 induct her and change her life.

But he remembered then, what that connection to Stormwind, to the SI:7 and Assassin’s Guild, what that had all done to him, how loyalty was embedded so deeply in his blood he was forced to abandon love to further the crown — he could not sentence her to that fate. Not to this same fate that killed her father, that doomed her and the Brotherhood, he couldn’t do that to her. She could be normal — no VanCleef, no Shaw, just simple, humble farm girl Saldean. She could have been saved.

She staring down at him, fury and sadness in her eyes that were so familiar. His voice breaks when he answers. “ Would you have forgiven me if I did? ”

She glares at him for a long moment. The bandana conceals the number of times she’d opened her mouth to spit a retort but died in her throat, and eventually, she releases him, his head falling back to the side as she turns away. Forgiveness was not an option for her. This world, this kingdom, this man had taken so much from her. Forgiveness would be concession, surrender, to accept defeat. She had a legacy to uphold, one that couldn’t be won through something as pitiful as forgiveness. No, perhaps she wouldn’t have forgiven him, but it would have been nice to have a home.

The rage is enough to get her back to her plan. She resumes her work, popping open the vial and its viscous liquid. She’d designed it herself — a terrible neurotoxin, engineered just for Shaw. It’d be mistaken for the fel poisoning, stir up his memories and leave him paralyzed and numb, forced to watch his life play back. It’d shut everything in him down in minutes — no master rogue would be able to detect it. Potions, poisons, these were her specialties.

This is what he deserves.

She dumps the vial into the tea, watching the steam fly out as it mixes. Odorless. Beautiful. A work of art. Shaw’s lulling off, utterly disoriented and so far removed from reality she almost feels sorry.

“ I still remember sitting for hours trying to figure out a name... ” He murmurs. “ Kelsa. Variana. Llana. Charlene. Valeria. Maria. Rebecca. Edwin hated all of them. ”

He laughs a little at the fond memory. “ I’m not good at names. That was always Edwin’s strength — and I still remember. He said, no middle names, you get the first one down right or not at all. Which, in hindsight, was solid advice. Vanessa VanCleef — it rolls off the tongue so well. ”

She huffs. “ Better than Hope Saldean. ”

“ Leagues better. My grandmother tried so hard to have you named after her, or my mother. She gave me hell for not letting you take my surname too. Funny how different life could have been. ”

Vanessa frowns, carefully seating herself at the edge of his bed. She hadn’t seen him up close in years — it brings her mixed feelings. The memories she had of him were so, drastically different. Younger, cleaner, and without that stupid damn mustache. But now, he’s aged, wrinkled, greying at the temples and nothing of the energy she remembered him with. It’s weird, really, how it makes her feel.

Shaw’s saying something, so quietly under his breath she has to lean in to catch it.

“ I miss you. Every day, I have missed you, Ness, ” He murmurs, tear-filled eyes holding her gaze. “ I could not bring myself to take you. I prayed, prayed that you’d be better off without either of our legacies, and somehow, somehow things still... I tried. I tried to sabotage those efforts to take down the Defias. I kept the SI:7 out of Westfall, I redirected everyone to the Twilight’s Hammer. I prayed every champion that went into the Deadmines died before they could find you. And still... ”

“ History repeats. ”

“ Doomed to an ugly destiny, aren’t we? ” He laughs bitterly, weakly bringing a hand to cover his pale face. “ When you died... I feel as though a part of me died too. So many years it’s taken me to realize just what I was a part of. How much blood my loyalty spills. What I’ve let it take. ”

“ And now... ” She turns to stare at the cup of tea, her own gaze growing distant. “ Now that same loyalty will kill you too. You loved Stormwind so much, demons took advantage of it. ”

“ There is no love. I don’t think there was ever any love for Stormwind. ” His chin lifts, just slightly. “ Only duty. ”

What a prison.

The concoction on the nightstand would free him from it. Relieve him from his duty, from his loyalty. She’d finally have some semblance of revenge against those who’d wronged the Stonemasons and killed her father. She needs only feed it to him. It’d be so easy too, so, painfully easy. He’s ready to die already, still not even aware that she was real and solid and sitting before him.

It’d be so easy.

So why can’t she do it?

In the end, the truth was, a small part of her had also missed him. Even through the anger and the betrayal, the hurt and the grief, in the end, the only memories she had of him were good. Picking her up as a child, showing her Stormwind, teaching her nifty tricks and getting into minor trouble. How her, Mathias and Edwin would sit on the half-finished towers overlooking Stormwind with a packed lunch and watch the sunset, play for hours until she’d fallen asleep. In the end, all she remembered of him was that he was family at some point. Something she could never have again.

“ Moth. ”

The word almost seems to bring him to life. It grasps his attention, and he looks to her expectantly, still bleary, but alert. How many years had it been since he heard that word?

He watches her, examines her, somehow sharper than before. “ You still remember that name. ”

“ I never forgot it. ”

Tiny Vanessa, still learning her words, had heard everyone call him Mathias, but she tripped on her own pronunciation and called him ‘Moth’. Oh how it stuck — he remembers the name only on the voice of a child, but she’s grown now, she’s older, and he missed all of those years.

“ I came here to kill you, ” Vanessa continues, looking away from him. “ I’ve spent years hating you. Resenting you for everything. You took everything from me. ”

A dawning realization slowly sets in on the feverish Spymaster as he listens. He doesn’t know if he’ll remember this exchange if he heals up and recovers, but there’s a gnawing feeling about this, about this hallucination, about her —

“ You should, ” He says quietly, closing his eyes. “ There is no reason why you shouldn’t. And there is... no one on Azeroth who deserves to end my life than you. ”

“ You’re surrendering? ”

“ Accepting my fate. My consequences. ” His breath picks up, he forces himself to open his eyes and truly see her. Carefully, he reaches out a hand to grasp her wrist, faintly squeezing with what strength he had. “ You’re no hallucination... are you? ”

She stares at the hand for a long moment, contemplating. Then, slowly, she moved to wrap her own around his. “ Don’t trust the word of a mind-addled adventurer. I never died. ”

Hope blooms in his chest, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. How he had mourned her — but she lives, she’s so young and still the chance to live this life —

It’s all he’s needed to hear. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he’s desperately hoping this isn’t a fever dream, that this is real, that she is alive. He holds her hand, as if she’d disappear if he didn’t.

“ Then I have no qualms with dying. ”

...

The fever breaks a few days later, and Shaw makes his swift recovery. The Champions of the Uncrowned request his aid along the Broken Shore, which he obliges as much as he’s able. There’s still plenty of broken pieces to pick up. Azeroth in turmoil, Stormwind in disarray with the false Shaw planting lies, and on top of it, Anduin ordering him to rest, forcibly taking work away from him to leave him with nothing.

Vanessa had left and taken the poison with her. They never spoke directly again, and for a while, Shaw was almost convinced she wasn’t real once he was fully awake and better.

But Greymane and Ravenholdt informed him otherwise. The Defias were as much intertwined with the Uncrowned as the rest of them.

Vanessa lived.

By the time Shaw had returned safely home, he wept.

#missive: inbox #backlog: writing #declassified: legion #file: v. vancleef #( god i was initially stuck on this cause i was like who the FUCK could he have a happy reunion with )#( and though this isn't like. the Happiest or most Joyful it is about the closest you can get )#( not edited i wrote this all in one sitting cause inspiration hit me like a goddamn truck THANKS FOR SENDING )

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jising-jisang-jisung · 4 years

Text

P.JS - Royal!au

Genre: royal!au, servant!jisung princess!reader ft. prince!jaemin, angst

Word count: 3.1k (dont know how I did that)

a/n: okay so this is my first time trying out a royal!au so I hope it's okay 😅 ngl I kinda like it so I might write more royal!dream... also sorry this is angst i just couldnt make it fluffy without being overly cliche and gross

A soft tap on your door steals your attention away from the seams on your bedsheets. “Miss y/n?” your servant’s voice calls.

“Come in,” you reply, maintaining all formalities through the barrier of the door, knowing that your guard is there, and will report any nonsense to your father, the king.

Your door creaks open as Jisung walks in, holding a giant tray in his hands.

“Sungie!” you call as soon as the door is closed. “Did you do it like I told you to?” you question eagerly.

“Well of course, y/n/n.”

“Yes! There’s enough for us to share!” you cheer, looking at the food your servant, who doubles as your best friend, had brought you. “Open,” you instruct him. He does as you command, opening his mouth for you to feed him the peach slice tangling from your fork. “Is it good?” you bite your lip, salivating over the fresh fruit.

Jisung nods excitedly, taking a seat next to you. “Your turn,” he nearly spits since he barely even chewed his piece before speaking. He holds out a slice for you to eat, but as you are about to snatch it, he pulls back to eat it himself.

“Hey,” you playfully smack his arm. He gives you a bashful smile before holding out another slice, and letting you eat it this time.

“Miss y/n?” and a knock on your door results in Jisung jumping off of his perch on your bed and you grabbing the food to move to your table.

“Come in,” you call after the two of you look like a normal Princess and servant and not a couple of goofy friends.

Another servant boy, Chenle, walks into your room. “Your father wishes to see you. He has urgent news,” he tells you bowing as he moves to exit.

“Wait! Do you happen to know what it might be about?”

The boy grins at you. He was also one of your good friends since you were all about the same age and had grown up in the castle together, but unlike Jisung, Chenle wasn’t your servant. Fortunately, however, since he was able to spend his time all around the castle, he was able to get the gossip on everything.

“Well,” he starts. Jisung and you move back to your previous seats now that the coast is clear. “From what I heard, there is another King and Queen visiting. And, if rumors are true, they have a son.” At first you’re very confused. What would another monarch have concerned with you? “But you should really leave now, he specifically said it was urgent, your highness.”

You walk quickly through the halls, enjoying the sound of your shoes hitting the tiles. You would rather run, to make up for the lost time talking with Chenle, but you aren’t supposed to, as a princess and all, it is considered unmannerly.

As you walk into the main hall, you see both of your parents as well as the familiar looking King and Queen of a nearby kingdom. And of course you couldn’t miss the boy standing next to them. While you had never met the prince before, you were certainly taken aback by his looks.

“y/n, it appears you have a suitor,” your father announces, looking proudly at the handsome boy.

“y/n, nice to meet you,” he bows. “My name is Jaemin.”

“The pleasure is mine, Jaemin,” you repeat his name, doing a curtsy of your own.

“Why don’t the two of you take a walk through the gardens as we talk?” your mother suggests. You nod and lead the way out to the back of the castle to the large garden. It was late enough that all the other workers would be done with work, leaving just you and the prince.

The two of you talk about more shallow things, getting to know about favorite colors, animals, or other useless information. You laugh along at his jokes, and find yourself swooning over his charming personality and even more charming smile.

“y/n,” his voice changes, indicating a more serious discussion. “I know you might not want to marry me. You don’t love me, well, you barely even know me. But please take some time to consider my proposal as I’ll be visiting for the rest of the week. While this marriage might be more about our parents bringing together our kingdoms, we can learn to love each other and live happy lives.”

You nod along, staying quiet to allow the boy to finish his speech. “Of course, I will consider it, Prince Jaemin,” you offer a smile to show sincerity. “It appears to be getting late. I wish you a good night,” you say before speeding off towards your bedroom.

Little did you know, your friend was watching you from the window of his quarters. Unable to hear the conversations, he watches as you laughed with the handsome prince, wishing that it was him you looked at like that.

In your room, you lied down on your bed, the springs squeaking with your sudden plunge. You were overwhelmed with odd feelings of guilt in your head, but also in your heart. For some reason you couldn’t figure out why you felt that way. There was nothing wrong with marrying Prince Jaemin; it’s what your father would want. It didn’t bother you that the marriage was political and not for love, that wasn’t the issue.

“Miss y/n,” Jisung’s voice hums outside your door.

“Come in,” you instruct.

The boy slides through your door and there it is. That’s where your feelings are coming from. It’s not that you don’t love Prince Jaemin; it’s that you do love Jisung. He seems to not notice your crisis as he continues on as usual. Well, not quite usual, as he seems more quiet and down at the moment.

“So, how’d it go?” he looks up at you. You immediately look away, your emotions for the boy suddenly making you shy.

“Well,” you tell him, afraid to admit how you really feel.

“That is… good,” he falters, hoping you didn’t catch the way he paused.

“Yes.” It is as though you two are the strangers here, as neither one of you are able to articulate yourselves.

“Well,” Jisung clears his throat. “Is there anything I can do for you before you sleep?” He asks, following his duties as your personal servant. You wish he was asking as a friend instead. Even if he is your best friend, you know he only asks because it is his job.

“Yes, actually,” you nod. “Can you sing for me?” It was something Jisung hadn’t done in years. When you were kids, he’d sing as you fell asleep, or if you were frightened by a storm or just loud noises in the castle. Unconsciously, you smile as you reminisce on the old times. When was it that you fell in love with the servant boy? You aren’t exactly sure, but at least you know now.

“Yes, of course,” Jisung breaks you out of your thoughts with his voice.

“Wait,” you interrupt him before he can even begin. “Let me put on my pajamas first, so you can sing me to sleep like old times, okay?”

“Of course, y/n/n, I’ll just be outside your door while you change.”

Only a few moments later you okay his return, being that you changed as quickly as you could, not wanting to wait another minute to hear Jisung’s voice. You hoped it was as melodious as it was before puberty when his voice literally dropped like 10 octaves.

He walks in as you settle back under your covers. Sitting at the edge of your bed he asks you, "what would you like me to sing for you?"

"Do you remember the song from when we were kids?" He nods in response, beginning the familiar tune. You're not sure how, but his voice sounds even better now than it did back then. It almost makes you wonder why he's a servant boy instead of a performer. You close your eyes as he continues to sing softly, not quite asleep but also not quite awake.

"Sweet dreams, princess," he whispers at the end of the song. He brings his hand up to brush a few stray strands of hair out of your face when you flutter your eyes open. "Ahhh, you're not asleep?!" He jumps in surprise, retracting his hand from you. But you were quicker than he, holding onto his wrist and placing his delicate touch back to your cheek.

"Sungie?"

"Yes, y/n/n."

"Do you think I should just marry Prince Jaemin?"

"I don't think I can answer that for you, y/n."

"Ji, I don't care if you're a servant or a prince. You're my best friend, and your opinion matters to me. I'm just worried," you whisper, trying your best to blink away the wetness in your eyes that threatens to overflow. "What if I make the wrong choice?" His heart nearly breaks seeing you so worried.

"I don't think there is a wrong choice. Just do what you think is right. You know, in your heart or whatever," he laughs at the mention of the cliche phrase.

"I don't think I can do that," you admit, offering no further explanation.

"What do you mean?"

"Because of who I am. Because the king is my father. I don't think I can do what my heart wants," a tear spills from the outer corner of your eye, but before it can make its path Jisung has already wiped it away with his finger.

"You should worry about this another time," he decides. "For now, you should get some sleep."

"Sungie?"

"Yes, y/n/n?"

"Will you stay, please?"

"Okay, but you have to promise to actually fall asleep this time," he warns you with a false, stern tone. You giggle at his antics but it dies down as he starts the song again and you drift into a far away dream.

The following morning your servant goes to wake you up as usual. He knocks on your door, waiting for the okay to enter. When it doesn't come, he cracks the door slightly to peer in. He spots you on your bed, snoring, still asleep in your dreamland.

"Y/n," he calls softly, not wanting to startle you. At no avail, he decides to enter in. Placing a hand to your shoulder, he shakes you as gently as possible. Unfortunately, you react by jolting awake and grabbing his arm violently, causing Jisung to fall on top of you.

"Princess, are you okay?" He asks loudly as the two of you look at each other with wide eyes and shocked expressions.

"Yes, yes," you catch your breath, suddenly aware of the close proximity of the boy on top of you, as well as the appearance of how this situation presents itself to any bystanders. Jisung picks up on this and quickly gets off of you while not letting go of your hold on him. "You just surprised me is all."

"You didn't have a bad dream, did you?"

"No, not at all," you grin, thinking back to your dream of running away with the boy you loved and being able to live a simple, happy life.

"You know, you should go to sleep earlier so this doesn't happen," he scolds you in a joking manner, interrupting your thoughts and bringing you back to reality. "Regardless, breakfast is ready, and do remember that we have guests, including your suitor."

You thank him as you make yourself presentable for the visiting family and prepare yourself for the war you're about to dive into with your parents.

"Mother," you speak after everyone had finished their meal. "May I discuss something with you?"

You excuse yourselves and head to an empty hall to talk.

"Mother, I do not wish to marry Prince Jaemin," you tell her.

"Why? He is a perfectly good young man and if you turn him away, there might not be another suitor of his worth!"

"Because I do not love him," you try to explain but she cuts you off.

"Y/n, you need to think about this more seriously. This will affect everyone, so you must be wise about it."

"Mother, I love Jisung, I wish to marry him," you admit.

She gasps at your nonsensical confession. "The servant boy? Are you trying to ruin the kingdom?" She holds the bridge of her nose in frustration. "No more talk about this right now. We'll discuss this later, but please reconsider your affection for the prince."

She storms away, absolutely appalled by your suggestion. You run the other way, toward your bedroom. You don't care about the possibility of getting scolded for running as tears quickly make their way down your cheeks. Even after you've closed the door, they refuse to let up.

As you sob into your pillow, there's a familiar tap at your door. "Miss y/n?" Jisung asks.

"Go away," you cry.

"Princess, are you alright?" You hate that you make him sound so worried. You hate that you're in love with a boy that you cannot be with.

"Go away," you repeat yourself, hearing his footsteps become more distant as you begin to despise the sound of the shoes hitting the tile floors.

You pull a pillow over your face and continue your outburst. It feels as though your tears will go on forever in endless sorrow. Until another knock sounds outside your door.

"Princess, I brought you some tea," you hear your best friend's muffled voice call out.

"Jisung please, just go-"

Blatantly ignoring your orders, he waltzes right into your room, stopping you mid sentence.

"Y/n, what happened?" That disgusted feeling of hatred returns as you hear the worry dripping from his voice.

You open your mouth to explain, but only loud sobs escape your lips. Jisung instantly puts down the tray of tea and wraps you in a hug. "I don't want to marry the prince."

"Well if that's what you-"

"I want to marry you!" You cut him off, but refuse to let him go. You're afraid that if you release your hold on him, he'll reject you or leave.

"But, princess," he starts. There it is, the coldness of your unfortunate situation. Reality hits you in the side of the head like a stone. You're a princess and he's a servant.

Tightening your grip on his sleeves, you admit your feelings for him. "I don't love Prince Jaemin. Jisung, I love you."

"I- I love you too, y/n," he whispers, rubbing his hands soothingly down your back as you slowly stop crying.

You finally pull away, looking at him through- now dry- puffy, red eyes. Jisung grabs either side of your face and slowly leans in, giving you enough time to recoil in favor of not doing what you're about to do. Much to his liking, you meet him halfway, pressing a long kiss to his lips. You allow yourself to revel in the bliss that is your lips on Jisung's, before you have to pull away to catch your breath.

"Let's just run away," you say, impulsively.

"Okay," he exhales, not a care in the world for anything but you. "I'll meet you here at midnight, yeah?"

You nod. "I'll be waiting," you mumble against his lips as the two of you dive back into one another.

The rest of the day passes slowly. Jaemin continues his attempt to court you as your mother watches over you like a hawk. Her judgmental eyes follow your every move closely.

Finally, the day is closing and the servants return to their quarters to rest. The castle falls asleep, all except for you as you wait impatiently for the boy you love to come. You check the time to see midnight has long passed and begin to fret. Had Jisung fallen asleep. Had he left without you? You push that thought out of your mind, Jisung wouldn't do that. But a worse idea creeps into your brain. Had Jisung gotten caught?

You stare at your ceiling, wanting to cry. But you feel as though you've had enough crying these past few days and settle on slowly worrying yourself to sleep.

The seemingly regular knock on your door wakes you up in the morning. You desperately wait to hear Jisung's voice call your name from behind the door, to let you know that breakfast is ready, and that he is okay.

"Y/n," the voice calls. Your heart drops as the door opens, revealing the queen.

"Where's Jisung?" You ask as your heart races with stress.

She sighs, closing her eyes to emphasize her distaste with your behavior. "He's gone."

"What do you mean 'he's gone?'" With each passing second you can feel your heart break more and more.

"We wouldn't want him to interfere with your affections for Prince Jaemin," she begins to explain.

"Where is he?" You ask through gritted teeth. Your overwhelmed with anger towards your mother as she carelessly avoids your question.

"Your father and I have decided that you will be marrying the prince," she informs you, not an ounce of remorse in her tone. "And breakfast is ready, so hurry up. The prince is waiting."

As underground as you can be, you ask everyone about your missing servant. Even your go to gossip boy, Chenle, hasn't heard or seen from him all day. As far as the castle is concerned, he no longer exists.

For the rest of the day, you put on a happy mask, not letting anyone see you falter as the preparations for your engagement ceremony begin. Your false exterior only falls once you're alone, behind the closed door of your room. It is then that you realize you cannot blame anyone else.

This was your fault.

If only you hadn't devised that stupid plan. Jisung would still be here and maybe you could have convinced him to bring your favorite servant along. But, even then, you're not his, you're Jaemin's. But maybe the prince was right. Maybe you can learn to love him. But somewhere deep down you know that's not true. You already gave your heart along with your first kiss to your best friend, the servant boy.

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the-taintedtruth · 4 years

Conversation

Taylor Swift "Folklore" vs Past Albums similarities

Bad Blood: Cus baby now we got bad blood, you know it used to be mad love

Invisible String: Bad was the blood of the song in the cab on your first trip to LA

The Best Day: It's the age of princesses and pirate ships

Seven: And I think you should come live with me and we can be pirates

All Too Well: You keep my old scarf from that very first week...

Cardigan: And when I felt like I was an old cardigan you put me on and said I was your favourite

False God: Staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town

Exile: You were my town, now I'm exile seeing you out

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: I’m a mess, but I’m the mess that you wanted

Illicit Affairs: Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me

Mine: You are the best thing that's ever been mine

August: August sipped away like a bottle of wine, cus you were never mine

Begin Again: He didn’t like it when I wore high heels, but I do

Mirrorball: Spinning in my highest heels, love, shining just for you

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things: Jump into the pool from the balcony, everyone swimming in a champagne sea

The Last Great American Dynasty: Filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names

Cruel Summer: It’s blue, the feeling I’ve got

Hoax: Don't want no other shade of blue but you

Daylight: I once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden

Invisible String: Gold was the colour of the leaves when I showed you around Centennial Park

Bad Blood: Did you have to ruin what was shiny? Now it’s all rusted

This Is Me Trying: I had the shiniest wheels now they're rusting

I Did Something Bad: If he drops my name then I owe him nothing

The Lakes: I've come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze tell me what are my words worth

ME!: I know that I went psycho on the phone, I never leave well enough alone

The 1: In my defense, I have none, for never leaving well enough alone

If This Was A Movie: Come back to me like you would if this was a movie, baby, what about the ending?

Exile: I think I've seen this film before and I didn't like the ending

The Way I Loved You: And it’s 2AM and I’m cursing your name

Cardigan: I knew I'd curse you for the longest time

Haunted: You and I walk a fragile line

Exile: We always walked a very thin line

Sweet Tea and Gods Graces: You can get by with sweet tea and God’s graces

Seven: Sweet tea in the summer, cross your heart, won't tell no other

Innocent: Wasn't it beautiful when you believed in everything...?

Seven: Are there still beautiful things?

Look What You Made Me Do: The world moves on, another day, another drama...

Mad Woman: They say "move on" but you know I won't

Wildest Dreams: You’ll see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night

August: And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

I Did Something Bad: They’re burning all the witches even if you aren’t one. They got their pitchforks and proof, their receipts and reasons

Mad Woman: And women like hunting witches too, doing your dirtiest work for you

Back To December: This is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you saying I’m sorry for that night

This Is Me Trying: I just wanted you to know that this is me trying

Don't Blame Me: My drug is my baby, I’ll be usin' for the rest of my life

Illicit Affairs: A drug that only worked the first few hundred times

Cold As You: I know you wouldn’t have told nobody if I died, died for you

Peace: All these people think love's for show but I would die for you in secret

You Are In Love: You can hear it in the silence

Peace: Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

Call It What You Want: My castle crumbled overnight

Hoax: My kingdom come undone

#taylor swift #taylor #folklore #taylor swift folklore #swift #ts #folklore album

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zero2heroyesindeed · 4 years

Text

Life’s Surprises- A Cassandra and Rapunzel Tangled AU fic

So this is the first entry in a series i’ll probably do where the premise is taking the original Tangled movie and reworking it to incorporate characters and elements from the series (so naturally that would also mean changing events that happen in the series which I may or may not explore later down the road). First I just want to preface this by saying this is the first real piece of writing I’ve ever done (that isn’t in a screenplay format which is a completely different medium so this is way out of my comfort zone) and this is the first time creating anything Tangled related so it’s going to be very messy and probably not gramtically sound. But I tried and this is the first time I felt inspired enough to make anything in months so here we go.

The sun beamed gloriously through the trees as Cassandra stalked her way through the wilderness. Gusts of wind rushed past her, causing the branches to rustle which was enough to put even her on edge.

Adopted from a young age by the Captain of the royal guard, ever since she can remember Cassandra has dreamed of the day she’ll get to wear that same golden armour and make her father proud. But when she finally came of age, she was forced into the role of one of the castle’s many servants. She wanted to serve her king and queen but not by doing their laundry. Still, she put on a brave face and fulfilled her duties without complaint hoping one day she would get her chance to prove herself. Whenever she wasn’t scrubbing pots and pans in the kitchen, she was on the grounds, honing her skills in both agility and combat. Though it was difficult since the only sparring partners she had were the training dummies they used for new recruits. But as the months of waiting turned to years, Cassandra had started to consider the reality that maybe her dream was never meant to be anything more.

That was until the day Flynn Ryder came to town. The notorious thief had snuck in right under their noses and made off with the crown that had once belonged to the lost princess before disappearing into the forest. Finally seeing her chance to prove to her dad she’s ready, Cassandra decided she was going to be the one to find the renowned thief and bring him to justice. That night she put down her dirty rags and grabbed her bow and arrows, as well as her sword which she never left home without. It was rather easy for her to sneak out since most of the guards were already out searching for the criminal. This meant she only had to sneak past Pete and Stan who weren’t exactly the sharpest knives in the drawer. A quick trip through the town and she was out on the bridge and heading into the forest, seeing her destiny closer than ever.

What Cassandra had failed to consider was the size of the woods surrounding Corona. Finding a master criminal in this place will be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Making matters worse was the fact there was also a whole battalion already on his trail who had gotten a good few hours head start. Unfortunately for those guys, they didn’t have an owl friend helping them out.

Owl returned to Cass and perched on her arm, letting out a disappointing hoot which told Cassandra her biggest advantage wasn’t going to get her very far. Still, it was nice to have some company while bracing the seemingly endless darkness. It was even nicer having company she didn’t have to talk to since she’d never been a hugely social person.

Despite the setbacks, Cass was confident in her tracking ability and believed finding Flynn Ryder would be child’s play for her (after all she’d been training for this since she was a child) why she’d probably have him behind bars by sunrise.

She wouldn’t.

Instead Cass spent all night searching every tree, bush and flower patch for any sign that could lead her to the offender, making sure to mark each one with a mighty swing from her sword to ensure she wouldn’t end up going in circles.

But time marched on. Night transitioned to day and Cassandra refused to stop until she had proven her worth to everyone. Unfortunately despite her tremendous strength and discipline, she was still human. A human who just went a whole night without a moment’s rest so she was starting to feel a little fatigued and the unfamiliar location only added to her unease. Why was she even doing this? Either the other guards had already captured Ryder or he’d stowed away on a boat and was on his way to another kingdom never to be seen again.

These questions would have to wait however, as Cass was startled by a rustling that came from a nearby berry bush. She silently crept towards it, drawing her sword hoping to find her prize but fully expecting to have to fend off a wild animal. Nothing could’ve prepared her for what was actually on the other side.

She carefully used the tip of her sword to part the branches revealing something she wasn’t expecting, a girl who was examining the berries in her hand. The second her eyes met with Cassandra’s she screamed and leapt back in fear, throwing the berry which whizzed past her shoulder.

“Who are you?” the girl asked in a panic as she fumbled to pick up an iron frying pan that had been lying next to her. Now that the girl was up and standing Cassandra finally got a full look at the mysterious stranger. The fact the girl wasn’t wearing any shoes would’ve probably caught her attention had she not been currently distracted by the seventy feet of golden locks that currently trailed around her. “Don’t come any closer” she threatened while pointing the cooking utensil towards Cass “I’m not afraid to use this!”.

After what seemed like an eternity of starring in awe, Cass finally responded. “Hey-hey. Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you”. Rapunzel took another step back. “Oh yeah? Then what’s that?” she questioned as she gestured to the sword Cassandra was still holding.

“Oh, right” Cassandra realized how much she scared the girl when she accidently pulled out her sword on her “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve just been walking for a while and when I heard a noise coming from the bush I was a little startled”. It was obvious the blonde girl still didn’t trust a word she said. Cassandra calmly threw her sword to one side. “There. We good now?” she asked hoping this would settle the girl’s nerves.

“Nice try” Rapunzel retorted “but how do I know you don’t have any other weapons on you?”.

Cass let out an irritated sigh as she removed her quiver and placed it on the ground. Then she took the dagger from her side and threw it down before finally taking the hidden knife out of her boot and throwing it onto the pile. “See? Completely defenceless” Cass said taking a step forward and putting up her empty hands. The girl now feeling more assured took a few slight step towards her, dragging her long locks through the grass, while still remaining cautious. Slowly the two inch towards each other when suddenly a deafening hoot is heard from above which causes Rapunzel to almost jump out of her skin. Owl soars down from above as Cass holds out her arm for him to land on.

The girl practically lit up upon seeing the winged creature. “Wait. Is that an owl?” she inquired “I’ve read all about owls but I’ve never actually gotten to see one in person before. What’s his name?”

“Owl” Cass responded unenthusiastically. “Wow” Rapunzel added, unable to contain her excitement. This gave Cassandra an idea. “You wanna hold him?” she asked. “Oh my gosh. Yes. That would be the best thing ever!” Rapunzel immediately responded, no longer showing any signs of the timid girl she was just a moment ago.

Cass slowly removed her glove from her right hand and held it out towards Rapunzel who slowly reached out to receive it. She quickly put the glove on and stuck out her arm. “Okay. So am I supposed to do something or..” the question was immediately answered as Owl landed on Rapunzel’s arm. “Oh. Hello there” she giggled while beginning to gently pet the bird of prey.

After a while Owl took off once more flying through the trees into the sky. Rapunzel pulled the glove off her hand and gave it back to Cass. “Thank you” she added. The two stood in awkward silence as Cass put her glove back on. “So what’s your deal exactly? You live out here or-“ she trailed off. “Oh. Not exactly. I live in a tower” the blonde girl responded. “A tower” she countered with a hint of sarcasm “and how long have you lived there?”. “My whole life” Rapunzel joyfully answered “my mother has always kept me up there ‘cause she says that’s where I’m safe” the energetic girl continued. “And just to let you in on a little secret” she lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned in closer to Cass “this is the first time I’ve ever been outside”. Cass looked back at her, trying her best not to sound sarcastic “Really? Never would’ve guessed”.

The sunshine girl continued, only getting more hyper. “See, every year on my birthday I’ve noticed these floating lights appear in the sky. Now I know what you’re thinking and no, they’re not stars. And I know it’s crazy but I can’t help but feel like they were somehow meant for me. So my mother left for a few days to go get me a birthday present. Oh yeah, I should probably mention today’s my birthday. Anyway, I snuck out of my tower so I can see the floating lights”.

Cass was now starting to feel overwhelmed by the girls exuberance and sat down on a nearby log. “That’s quite the tale, blondie. So you’re just out here by yourself then?” she enquired. “Oh no” Rapunzel answered “I have someone to guide me. He’s this really nice guy I met called Eugene Fitzherbert”.

Cassandra couldn’t help but chortle at the sound of that name. “Eugene Fitzherbert? That has got to be the most ridiculous name I ever heard”. She continued laughing as Rapunzel approached her “Well, I don’t know. I think it’s a great name” she retorted while sitting down next to Cass on the log. The two sat there for a moment just admiring the natural beauty that surrounded them.

“Y’know, it’s funny. All my life my mother told me the outside world was a dangerous place filled with roughians, thugs and men with pointy teeth but it’s nothing like what she told me. Ever since I left my tower I’ve met a bunch of kind people and I’ve done things that I never thought I could”.

She turned to Cass.

“What about you? Do you have a dream?” she asked. Cass just sat there in silence, not entirely sure if she wanted to open up to someone who was still very much a stranger. I mean, they didn’t even know each other’s names and suddenly they’re having this deep heart to heart. Rapunzel sat there, waiting patiently for a response.

“Yeah, I’ve got a dream. Though lately I’m not all that sure it’s gonna come true” Cass said solemnly. Rapunzel moved down the log, getting closer to Cassandra in an attempt to comfort her.

“Well, there was once a time I never thought I’d ever get to see the floating lights but now I’m going to get my dream. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned since leaving my tower it’s that even when you think you know something, life finds ways to surprise you”

“That’s a nice thought. But my dream’s a little more complicated than seeing some floating lights” Cass coldly responded as she stood back up “listen, there’s a good chance that there’s a dangerous criminal in these woods. You and Fitz-sherbert or whatever should be careful. I need to get going”.

Cass started to leave as Rapunzel called back to her.

“Okay. Well it was nice meeting you” then there was a slight pause “and I hope you get your dream someday.”

Cass froze for a moment. She sighed, glancing back at Rapunzel from over her shoulder.

“Yeah. So do I”

Rapunzel watched from the log as Cass disappeared into the wilderness, setting off on the long journey back home.

#tangled #tangled au #rapunzels tangled adventure #tangled the series #rta #tts #tangled cassandra #rta cassandra #tts cassandra #rapunzel #eugene fitzherbert #flynn rider #fan fiction #tangled fic

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docholligay · 5 years

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"It's nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today" - Hotaru and Chibiusa

Hotaru always questioned how old she was. She was five, and sixteen, and twenty one, and all of these things blended together and fell over each other, and she never would have asked anyone else to tangle out what she herself didn’t understand.

Sometimes, she hated the Moon. It had taken everything from her, had made her this time tangle, and then called her immediately back to the front lines. The other girls occasionally sighed about what they had given up, but often replaced it with a smile, speaking of all they had gained.

None of them knew what it was to give even your life. They had died, yes. They had never had everything swept away in the resurrection.

It seemed whenever she wanted to hate the moon the most, the phone would ring, and there would be a chipper voice on the other end of the line. Hotaru would see the pink fluff of that hair in her mind, sticking out of her imperfectly formed odango, see the sparkle in her eyes as she asked Hotaru what she was planning on doing today.

A missive from another time tangle, by someone just as confused as she was. The same ages, different ages entirely, bound together by an understanding only the two of them could ever have.

Chibiusa had given more than even Hotaru for the cause, her name, her birthday, nothing had ever belonged to Chibiusa in the entirety of her life. And yet, she still seemed to glow, even in difficult times, and she took Hotaru by the hand, and told her not to be sad, that she was here and wouldn’t they have fun today at the amusement park?

Hotaru asked her once, as they rose in the sky on that ferris wheel, only the two of them, why she wasn’t more angry. The kingdom had taken so much from her, too, and it should have given her everything. How could living in the past be better, faced with helping her own lack of rise to the throne?

Chibiusa had thought a moment, looking out over the city, and smiled with an uncharacteristic shyness.

“Well, you’re here,” She had said, “I got to meet you.”

Hotaru, who had remembered nothing but being unwelcome from the moment she arrived, bringing with her the possible destruction of the earth, had no idea how to respond to the knowledge that one person, at least, in this world, wanted her around. Sacrificed for her, instead of being willing to sacrifice her.

“Hotaru?” Chibiusa’s voice called into her thoughts on the other end of the line.

“Yes?” She blinked, away from that ferris wheel and back to the moment.

“Sorry, I know it’s really early to call! You must be half-asleep, but–”

“No,” Hotaru smiled, though Chibiusa could not see, “It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”

#tabletennishotaru #Ask Day Jan 2020

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drev-the-procrastinator · 4 years

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1, 8, 12 and 52 for the writing thingy!!!

Look at me finally answering these after like a whole month lol

Thanks for the ask!

1. Tell us about your WIP!

Which one lol, I’ve got many of them. Too many. Really. That, coupled with the fact that I am a slow writer because I keep getting distracted and procrastinating (like with answering these asks,,,,) means that pretty much everyone on this site will die of old age before I finish like any of them :’D

Anyway, I guess I’ll give brief summaries of all of the… main ones. This is gonna be a long one, fellas! I guess in the order I came up with them? Or the order I’m pretty sure I came up with them in.

TT: My original story I’ve been low-key working on and reworking since… 2012…? It’s a fantasy story, and it is… way too long probably. Also needs a lot of work. Worldbuilding and character building and plot building… At the moment, I guess I could summarise it as, our world gets wrecked for some reason, and the main characters, these two girls, who got saved into another, fantasy world with like… a bunch of other survivors, leave the Earth-refugee camp and get tangled with like, politics? Of that world? Well, politics and then eventually like, a war type thing… I didn’t say it was good, and I did also say it needs a whole lotta work. I’m pretty happy with some names younger me came up with though! Also it has dragons, so. Yup.

Fantasy fanfic: I am very good with names, as you’ll come to notice. Anyway this is a.. Hetalia fantasy fic..? I came up with in, like, 2014. I’m not actively working on this one at the moment, but I would like to maybe write it one day, and my most beloved OC originated in this story, you may have seen me mention her in my tags? I haven’t managed to come up with a name for her, but I call her the Asshole Goddess, because she’s a goddess, and also an ass. So.

Anyway this one’s pretty cliche, and it’s like, an absurdly large cast of Hetalia characters ending up in a fantasy world, where a bunch of other characters, who’d gone missing earlier, have apparently been taken to? Then it’s a journey to find and get them back, friendships are formed and magical things are encountered, but uh oh! They’re mortal here and can die! And many do. You may note I was 14 when I came up with it, so. Well. It is quite edgy. Had some good concepts though!

Kingdom AU: Great with names, as I said. This one is also a Hetalia fic, because that is the fandom I’ve been stuck in forever, though mostly just because I’ve so many fics for it. This is the odd one out in my fics though! This is like, a royalty AU of an rp AU me and my friend made by accident one time? The RP, not this AU, this is all my invention. It’s really just for me and my friend, since it’s based on that strange RP and the main thing in it is like and OC x canon character ship? That’s also why it’s the weird one, I don’t usually have much romance in my fics because I’m not big on ships and just prefer gen stuff, but this one is like primarily romance? Lots of pining. And it’s very soft. And I love this AU with all my heart. It’s also got a whole lotta angst!

Basic plot is the more or less classic, kinda cliche, peasant girl goes to get a job in the royal palace to help her poor family and meets the crown prince, and they become friends, and slowly fall in love.. Except, well, this is weird also in that the end point isn’t them getting married or confessing their love or anything, that’s like...Maybe the midpoint? There’s also politics, kinda worldbuilding? It’s set in like a 1700s type setting, I think, And while it’s not really a fantasy world since no magic, it’s not like, a real world setting. Anyway, yeah, this is near and dear to my heart.

The Home Front Fic: This! This is the one I’ve been trying to work on lately! It’s about life on the Finnish home front during WWII, and yes this is uh, also a Hetalia fic. Sorry. Though to be fair with this one and the previous one everyone’s probably gonna be so OOC and the setting is so different they might as well just be original works lol. Anyway, it’s a human AU, and also had a lot of OCs for that reason because it’d be tough to make a story of this scope with like. Three characters.

Basically! Tino is a 8, soon to be 9-year-old boy living in the Finnish countryside in 1942. His dad’s gone off to war, as well as the farmhand they had at the farm, and his mom and grandma can’t take care of the whole farm by themselves. So when they hear a nearby factory and some other farms in the area are getting extra work force in the form of Soviet prisoners of war, they decide to ask for one, too. They get a worker, his name’s Ivan. It takes some time, since they’re technically enemies, right, but eventually Tino befriends him and slowly he kind of becomes a part of the family… But you know what happened when the Continuation War between Finland and the Soviet Union ended in September 1944? :) Well, I’ll just say that Stalin did say “There are no Soviet prisoners of war, only traitors.”

This one also has angst. But it also has found family! I like it a whole lot, I wish I’d written it already, but I have been having such a hard time starting it. :(

That BNHA Fic: I can call it that because I’ve only got one so far! So this is a My Hero Academia fic, and hmm. I haven’t talked about it too much, but I do like it, even though my focus has been pulled back to the Home Front Fic again. I do wanna write this one!

So this is like a future fic? It’s canon divergent because some stuff happening in the manga rn is not gonna work with the plot, I guess it’ll diverge at least from like… all the New Year’s chapters? I don’t remember what the number is.

Anyway, the main character is Eri, who’s been going to like this boarding school meant for kids with volatile quirks. She wanted to go there herself when some years ago her quirk had gone bonkers, she thinks? Something like that, she doesn’t remember that well anymore, but anyway, she’s going to apply to UA! Just the Gen-Ed, her quirk isn’t any good against robots. She’d love to be a hero, though, she knows so many heroes and she just wants to help people, but her quirk is no good. :( Anyway she’s back in Musutafu for the summer break in her last year of middle school, and she meets Mirio and Aizawa at the train station, and they go around the town meeting everyone! In the entrance exams she meets Kouta, who for some reason doesn’t want to be a hero though he’s got a really good quirk for it, and he’s proud of his parents who were famous heroes! They both get into UA, and she manages to convince him to try to get into the hero course through the Sports Festival, and he does! She doesn’t get that far in the festival though, because even though she’s practiced using her quirk, she’s scared to use it on people when in battle and stuff. Anyway, she’s very upset about it, and when she tells Mirio about how she wants to help people, but can’t, because her quirk sucks, he gets this look on his face and later tells her that he knows someone who could help. They go to meet this scarecrow lookin’ dude, and oh wait, is that All Might?? Why’s he refusing to help her out from Mirio’s request?? And later, what’s this One For All Mirio’s talking about?? And whose kind arms does she keep dreaming of in her sleep???

So yeah. That’s the BNHA fic. One more WIP to go!

Space Fic: Back to Hetalia, and this is technically an older fic but I decided to someday actually write it just recently. So it’s my Historical Human AU No. 3. It’s based on a space facts video fact, where it said that in 1963 Kennedy had proposed the USSR and US go to the Moon together, and Khrushchev had been meaning to agree, but then Kennedy died and the plan was abandoned. This story idea was like, but what if they’d gone through with it? And then, because why not, what if they’d included other countries as well? And this WIP was born. It’d be like, the main characters would be representatives of their home countries, sent to take part in the program and they’d all be candidates for going to the Moon, but there’d be only 3 spots on the rocket so like, they’d kind of have to compete for the spots? And the ones that wouldn’t pass would take part in the mission on Earth. So then there'd compete, there’d be personal drama, their personal relationships would be affected by the relationships between their home countries, but overtime friendships would be forged, and they’d all just become… one big ole found family. A space family. A big ole found space family. And the Overview Effect would also play a part. This is kind of on the back burner, this’ll need lots of research and the Home front fic also needs a lot of it, so I’ll try to.. write that first, I guess? We’ll see.

So that’s all my WIPs. There are other fic ideas that I haven’t put much thought into yet so they’re not on the list, but yeah!

8. Do you have any writing buddies or critique partners?

I don’t have any one person who I’ve talked to about all of my stories, but I have discussed my stories with a few people! Both online and irl. I’m also on a couple discord servers that are for writing or where people talk about writing, even though for the most part I’m too shy to talk much on any of them ;u; But the people who’ve been awesome enough to listen to me ramble about my stories have helped me a lot!

12. Which story of yours do you like best? Why?

Aaaa, don’t make me choose between my children! ;__; I love them all,,,

Well, I am very fond of TT, since it’s my own original story and I’ve worked on it the longest… Then again, the Kingdom AU has a lovely aesthetic and those two pining idiots in it… But also, that BNHA fic has some really nice plot and character moments? But also I’ve spent so long researching for the Home front fic and it’s got my boys in it! And the atmosphere in it is so nice, and it has found family,,, But then also… Space??? And even the fantasy fanfic has the Asshole Goddess in it?? And a nice storyline with Liech?? See I can’t choose ;_;

To be fair, the story my dumb brain takes interest in changes every now and then, for example lately I’ve been mostly thinking about TT, the Kingdom AU and the Home front fic, so I guess those would be my favorites at the moment? But a couple weeks ago I was really into the Space Fic, and at the start of the year it was the BNHA fic. So it depends! But I do love them all.

52. Who do you write for?

Well, primarily probably for myself. I do often find myself in a situation where I’m looking for fics or books to read but none of them really click, and then I realize I’m looking for my own story. Which I haven’t written. So that’s definitely a big one! Then, to some extent, I also write for the people I’ve rambled about my fics to, so they might maybe someday get to experience the whole thing through something other than just my ramblings :’D But mostly for myself, I think.

Thanks for the ask again and sorry for taking so long!

#it's been 84 years.....#long post #drev's fics #did i have an ask tag? i don't remember

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alliesweetsong · 5 years

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A Moment in Time Pt. 1

“Allisel, did you hear your father?”

The young blonde high elf blinks in rapid succession while snapping out of her daydream idly cutting into venison tenderloin she and her father had harvested earlier in the morning. Wearing comfortable silk clothing, the unruly curls that adorned her head was tied into a ponytail tamed by a black ribbon that lazily rested down her back.

“Hmm? Sorry, I was thinking about something,” she replies quickly putting a piece of meat into her mouth to avoid further questioning

Though sitting, her father was an imposing figure. His proud, chiseled visage locked on the girl with glowing cyan eyes while braided blonde locks flow over as his shoulders coming to rest in the middle of his back. Shifting his weight backward into the chair, the proud chest of the man inflates while his wife gently places a hand on top of his to prematurely calm him.

“Your mother and I have discussed your desire to spend time with your friends.” he begins before interlocking his thumb with her hand. “You did well today, I have seen rangers twice your age fail to track animals as you did. Therefore, we have come to the agreement that you may go, but only after you finish your dinner.” he finishes looking at his wife Niral.

“Sweetheart, you deserve a break, your father has expressed how impressed he is with how quickly you are taking to his teachings. Isn’t that right dear?” She adds smiling in a fashion.

Allie clears her throat and practically snaps at attention as if it was second nature when her father began to speak. The rigid posture she had begins to diminish ever so slightly as her mother elaborates and she smiles in an earnest manner.

“Truly? Oh, thank you so much!” Allie replies.

Though neither of them knew it, the excitement was fake, she knew they would cave, or at least her father would. She had arranged a friend to trap the deer she shot a few hours prior. Anything to get away from the house, and him for a week. Whatever had happened to him during the fall had changed him, the loving father was replaced by someone far more sinister, routinely putting his only daughter in situations that should not be survivable. The bandages covering the stab wound on her ribcage from just last week attested to that. Her mother wasn’t any better in her opinion, she let it happen.

With a shaky inhale, Allie reaches forward and grabs the silk cloth to wipe her face as she finishes the meal and begins to rise to her feet. She couldn’t remember the last time they had actually sat and had a lively discussion, not since her parents had decided to leave Silvermoon as it fell. Bowing her head respectfully to both of her parents she picks up her plate as piercing eyes follow her every move, looking for any sign of weakness that could be used as ammunition for her to stay and continue to be berated. Or as her father called it, ‘training’.

“Remember I want to know where you are-”

“I will write down names and the address, I promise.” Allie cuts her her father off.

This too was part of her plan, she knew neither had the heart nor will to venture into the remains of the once-proud city. Though if either wanted to search for her she had already made an agreement for her friends to uphold the lie. A loose claw or tooth from one of the fabled worgens would serve as payment should the ranger in training come across one. As she places her dirty plate where it goes for washing later, her trained ears twitch as reassurances from both parents to each other are offered while their daughter was gone. A slight tinge of guilt washed over the elf as she quickly hurried to her room to grab her pack. She didn’t want to lie to them, but they left her no choice.

Walking into her room, she grabbed her backpack, it was always packed and sat on her bed while her mind raced with anxiousness and fear of the unknown. What she was about to do could leave her seriously hurt, or worse. But she had to see it. Humans, for her, were so intriguing. That an entire kingdom would wall itself in while forsaking those outside, was something she could scarcely believe. Snapping back to reality she quickly went to her desk and grabbed the map she had borrowed from one of her friends making sure it was neatly folded before placing it into the pack inside a hidden compartment she had sewn in just a few nights prior. She didn’t think her parents would have believed her, nor that she would get away with this lie of hers.

“I’ll uh, be home in a week,” she says in a cheerful manner as she steps out of her room clutching her pack.

Though her father merely grunts and continues eating, it’s her mother that rises to her feet and walks over to embrace her daughter. The two hadn’t been terribly close of late following a fight they had regarding the nonstop ‘training’ her father would subject her too, but there once was a time, a few years ago that they had been inseparable. Inhaling Allie closes her eyes and rubs her mother’s back, already almost at equal eye level with the older woman.

“Be safe out there, and have fun.” She instructs her daughter.

Smiling softly, Allie gently nods before releasing the embrace. Even if she didn’t know what she was about to do, the comment rang true no matter the context.

“I will mother, I promise,” Allie replies before walking toward the door.

Though he had been quiet she couldn’t help but look to her father, for any sign of emotion, that she was about to leave. Of course, that wouldn’t happen. He was too proud to show anything around his family anymore. As she opens the door, her mother gives her a small reassuring pat on the back and then she steps out and the door closes behind her.

Allie pauses and shuts her eyes for a brief moment, just to clear her mind and get her thoughts. The first order of business was to grab her weapons and a second pack containing the leather armor she typically wore. Though much of Quel’thalas wasn’t friendly, a small grove on her route had been scouted off and on when she could to ensure roving hostile entities wouldn’t be there to steal her belongings or worse, ambush her getting to them. The more time she stood in the doorway, the less time she had before the sun began to rise, increasing the probability of that happening. With a deep inhale and a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure her parents weren’t watching out of a window, the high elf starts off to the west.

The downpour had started the previous night and all but washed away the camp she had set up. The lone dry patch of soil inside her tent was used as a fire pit to warm her before finishing the first part of the journey, beholding the nation of Gilneas. Yawning as tangled strands of blonde hair fall over her eyes Allie grabs her pack and uses a stick shaped like a ‘Y’ to push mud into the fire dowsing it with the dirt and water mixture.

Her hooded cloak was already drenched and she was positive her parents would question how she suddenly got sick, but the experience so far had her in high spirits. The walls of Gilneas were only a few miles away and she had to encounter anything or anyone, that wished to harm her. Once her gear had been secured she broke down the tent and folded it as best as she could back into the second bag and started west once more.

It didn’t take her long to see the first signs of the nation beyond the walls, derelict huts, and roadside lanterns dotted the landscape as the thick woods opens into the clearing giving her the first true glimpse of Gilneas, or what she assumed was Gilneas so far.

Strange looks from grizzled, sickly-looking people met her arrival giving her shooting glares of disdain. This was far from how the young ranger envisioned meeting humans for the first time. Meanwhile, a group of soldiers stands around a tent with weapons sheathed appearing to have some sort of conversation that none of them really wanted to have. Catching a glimpse of the soaked Quel’dorei, the one talking the most motions two of the knights to follow him before starting her direction at a brisk pace.

Going rigid as they approach, Allie clears her throat and pulls her hood down allowing the cool rainwater to pelt her nappy hair while her cyan eyes track their every movement.

“Lass, ye can’t be ‘ere, by order o’the King.” he says in a commanding voice.

Huffing and rolling her eyes, the tone he gave instantly reminded Allie of how her father would speak to her. She wasn’t having none of that today, she was cold, tired, and desperately needed a bath.

“Tell your King that I am a friend, I am Allie Sweetsong, uh a Ranger of Quel’thalas and I demand an audience with someone who can point me to where I need to go for work,” she replies while placing her hands on her hips.

The two soldiers behind the loud one smirk and quickly look down expecting the fireworks to start at any moment, Though the one to his left sort of looked up with sapphire blue eyes and offers a simple shake of his head and motions to the ground as if to tell the elven woman to ease her tone.

The young knight's gaze catches Allie’s attention for a moment as a commotion breaks out behind the trio. Several soldiers begin chasing a hysterical woman causing Allie to tear her gaze away for a moment as the leader clears his throat and leans to his right sending the second soldier to assist.

“Lass, i ‘ppreciate yer offer, but as ye can see, we ‘ave it under c’ntrol aye?” he says with a slightly deflated tone now. “Private, escort the lass to ta road aye?” he says as the one that had motioned to her steps forward the plate clinging as he salutes in a rigid manner.

Turning his attention back to the Quel’dorei the commander sort of scoffs and gently shakes his head before taking his leave and walking at the same brisk pace up to the commotion behind them.

As the two stood there the knight widened his and inhales before bowing his head motioning for him to follow as he starts down the hill leading from to the road in which the elven ranger had just traveled up not long after.

“Was mighty brave of ye ta talk to ‘im like that.” he starts while looking over his shoulder to make sure she was following. “He ain’t the kind to like someone talking to him like that.”

“Yeah well, he should learn to accept help when its offered.” she retorts while pulling her hood back over her head, the sewn slits allowing the tips of her elongated ears to have free space opening for their intended purpose. “Is it so hard to allow me to at least bathe and allow me a moment’s respite from this dreadful rain and muck?” Allie finishes lifting her foot out a giant pool and wiggling it to and frow to illustrate her point.

A rather awkward pause follows as he stops for a moment and looks at the drenched elf. Grinning in a youthful manner he quickly looks around and diverges from their destination “Follow me.” he instructs.

Lifting an eyebrow Allie rolls her cyan eyes, disgusted from her appearance and the weather. “Now where are we going?”

A quick walk down a hill out of ear and eyeshot of the wall and his commander, The knight points to a grove of trees near the wall before it diverged. “Meet me in those trees at nightfall. don’t be late, and erm, try to shield yer eyes?” he half asks clenching his jaw as if instantly regretting the way that came out.

Huffing in an indignant manner Allie cocks her head to the right as if waiting for the punchline to a poorly worded joke. When one doesn’t come she groans in disbelief and throws up her hands.

“I'll be back fer ye at nightfall lass,”

I have been playing classic a lot with @fin-mckendric‘s writer. This story is inspired by a night of discord conversation and a headcanon. I hope you all enjoyed, I had a blast writing this first part and I can’t wait to post the second!

#ic #canon #WrA Alliance #Starlight & Steel #origins #backstory #wow classic

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soundofseventeen · 5 years

Text

Tangled (Vernon Chwe)

Hello! We are now half way through!! Next week I may be spotty with posting because I got scheduled to work a lot.... so I will do my best but I can’t make any promises I’ll be updating on time so I apologize now. Enjoy! (also Haley, I’m sorry I had to)

Master List

*Fairy Tale*

“Come on, tell me how this is a bad idea.” Vernon said, pleading with Seungkwan. Seungkwan just sighed, looking at his friend.

“Listen, you try to steal this crown every year. You have never been successful. Why do you keep doing this to yourself?” He asked, Vernon sighing.

“Because if I steal this, I won’t ever have to steal anything ever again. I’ll be set for life!” He grinned, Seungkwan rubbing his head.

“But you will get caught.” Seungkwan offered, looking him in the eye. “Again. This isn’t Soonyoung’s kingdom, they have a lot more security since their princess was stolen.”

“Last year I was foolish. This year, I will be more prepared.”

“Why won’t you just let me help you? I have the money to-”

“Seungkwan, I don’t take charity.” Vernon said, suddenly very serious.

“Of course not.” Seungkwan smirked. “You just take everything else.”

“What can I say? I prefer to be a self-made man.” He leaned back, looking at his friend.

“Why don’t you ask that friend of yours to help. What was his name? Dino?” Seungkwan offered, trying to think of how to get his friend out of this, or at least in less trouble.

“Oh he wouldn’t go for it. He believes in stealing for the poor, not for personal gain.” He sighed, looking out the window. “It’s the one area we disagree on.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t attempt this again.” Seungkwan sighed, causing Vernon to lean forward.

“Seungkwan, you trust me, right?” Seungkwan looked into his eyes, eventually nodding.

“Somehow, yes. I do.”

“Then I need you to trust me now. This year, I will be successful. I know it in my heart.”

“Fine.” Seungkwan stood up, looking at the clock. “Hopefully I don’t have to bail you out this time. That kingdom is starting to get suspicious of me. Now if you excuse me, I have to go meet my future bride.”

“Good luck.” Vernon laughed, getting up to leave with Seungkwan. The two got to the end of the hall, about to part ways.

“Oh, one more thing.” Seungkwan said, Vernon looking at him. “From now on, please don’t tell me about your plans of thievery. It’s much easier to believe your innocence if I don’t know all the plans.”

Vernon grinned, turning and walking down the hall.

*Today*

“I know I don’t have much experience and I don’t have… Well, any references, but I swear I’m a hard worker and you will not regret hiring me.” Vernon said, for what he felt was the millionth time.

He left another place, after another interview that ended terribly. He couldn’t figure out why he could never land a job. He always tried so hard, going over his resume and looking professional. He always felt that he was charming, polite, a perfect candidate in interviews. But every single one ended the same.

With a polite smile, and a ‘we’ll let you know if something becomes available’.

Which it never does.

He kicked the dirt, waiting for Seungkwan to come out of his father’s office. He ran over the interview in his head, trying to figure out where it went wrong this time.

He could never figure out what was so wrong about him.

“Ouch, no good?” Vernon jumped as Seungkwan stood next to him, startled by his sudden appearance.

“What do you think?” Vernon said, rolling his eyes.

“You’re going to get a job soon.” He put a hand on Vernon’s shoulder, squeezing a little bit. “It’s really not a big deal-”

“For you.” Vernon looked at him. “I’m sick of mooching off of you. It’s not fair that you can always pay for everything and I just tag along. I wanna make my own way, and I need to get a job to do that.”

“I get that it bothers you, but as long as it takes, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Why is this so hard…” Vernon muttered, looking down the street.

“Come on, let’s go get something to eat. A full stomach will cheer you up.” Vernon just shook his head, pushing himself away from the building.

“No thanks.” He said, sighing. “I think I’m just going to take a walk. Clear my head a bit. I have another interview this afternoon, so I should go try to prepare for that.”

“Are you sure?” Seungkwan asked, Vernon giving a small smile.

“Yep. I’ll talk to you later.” He walked away before Seungkwan could say anymore, ready to just be by himself for a bit.

He walked through a neighborhood, mind running like wild, and yet not at all. It was a weird mental state he was usually in when he didn’t get a job. As he walked, he pulled out a sun necklace, twisting it in his hands a bit. He didn’t remember where he got this, or when he even got it. He thought about getting rid of it a million times, but then every time he got close, something would tell him to keep it. Just a little bit longer.

He suddenly stopped walking, feeling like someone was watching him. He looked around, not seeing anyone around him. He was completely alone in the neighborhood. As he looked around, he saw a face in one of the windows. As soon as he looked, the face disappeared, causing him to let out a chuckle.

It was probably just some curious kid. He put the necklace back in his pocket, walking until he came across some bar he’d never seen before.

*Fairy Tale*

“Did you just hit me with a frying pan?!” Vernon yelled, holding his head.

“You broke into my tower!” You yelled back, still holding the frying pan above your head.

“Forgive me, I didn’t think that this deep in the woods, some crazy girl would be living in a tower! With a frying pan! I thought it was abandoned!” He stood up, jumping back a little bit as he did.

“You’re lying! You’re here to kidnap me! Or to use my hair!” You said, holding the frying pan in front of you like a sword. He put both his hands in the air, looking at you, slightly scared.

“Your hair? Why the hell would I want to use your hair? It’s hair!” He defended, hoping he could get away from you.

“Wait… You… You don’t want my hair?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows. He waved his hands, eyebrows rising.

“Why would I? I just wanted a place to hide!”

“Hide from what?”

“...Nothing. Look, I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your… hair.” He said, suddenly noticing the abnormal length of it. He had to admit, your hair was an extraordinary length. You must have never cut it in your life.

“Wait.” You said, stopping him. “That crest on your bag, what’s it from? I’ve never seen it before…”

“It’s from a neighboring kingdom. It’s the one I belong to…” He said, worried.

“So… You’re from another kingdom?” You asked, Vernon slowly nodding. “Do you know about the lights?”

“The lights?”

“Yes.”

“...That’s all the explanation I get. The lights.” He flatly said, causing you to sigh.

“Well, I don’t know! I’ve only seen them from here! They float through the sky, lighting everything up and making it magical. It only happens once a year though, and it happens on my birthday. So, it must be kind of important if they do it every year on the same day!.” Vernon looked at you like you were crazy a bit longer, suddenly having a realization.

“Oh, you mean the lanterns?”

“Lanterns?”

“Yeah, this kingdom lights lanterns and releases them every year in honor of the lost princess.”

“The lost princess?” You looked at him, and he nodded his head.

“How out of touch are you? You live in this kingdom and you don’t even know about the lost princess?” When you continued to look at him confused, he let out a sigh. “Okay, well when the king and queen had a child, she was kidnapped very shortly after she was born. No one has been able to find her or knows who the kidnapper is. Since the kingdom has the tradition of lighting lanterns, which I assume you know nothing about, they’ve released lanterns every year on the kids birthday to hope she finds her way back.”

“Interesting…” You said, following his every word. “So, technically, in a way, you could take me to see them?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I… Guess?”

“Perfect! Let’s go!” You said, letting the pan down and walking to the window. Vernon stood frozen.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The lanterns. You’re going to take me. Let’s go.” You said, waving him over.

“And why exactly would I do that?”

“Because guards are obviously looking for you, I assume for whatever is currently in that bag of yours. If you don’t, I will find guards and tell them exactly where you are, and you’ll probably spend forever in prison. If you take me, I won’t say a word. We’ll part ways like the strangers we were.” He looked at you for a second, eventually sighing.

“Fine.” He said, following you to the window. You let out a little squeal, causing him to look slightly amused. Worried, but amused.

“So, what’s your name, anyway?” You asked, preparing to climb down the tower for the first time.

“Vernon.” He said, looking down, getting ready to climb himself. “Yours?”

“Y/N.”

*Today*

“Why the long face?” The bartender asked, standing in front of Vernon.

“No reason.” He mumbled, playing with his napkin.

“If that were true, you’d be happier.” She said, placing a water in front of him. “Come on, it’s my job to listen to people. What’s wrong?”

Before he knew what was happening, Vernon had completely unloaded on the poor bartender. Everything from the losing his parents at a young age to living as an orphan to living with his friend who had more money than he could ever imagine to not being able to find a job as hard as he looked. He talked for what felt like forever, finally reaching the end of his speech. He took a deep drink of water, throat feeling dry.

“Wow.” She said, looking at him. “You’re right, that’s definitely no reason to be upset. You should just keep pretending everything’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, that was… a lot.” He sighed, pulling out the necklace. For some reason, he felt comfort when he held it.

“You know…” She said, looking around the bar. “I could use a hand around here during the day. Cleaning, serving, socializing with customers. It doesn’t always pay well, but some of the customers tip pretty well, so it’s not bad.” Vernon looked up at her.

“What… What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, if you really want a job, you could work here.” She shrugged.

“...Are you serious?” She nodded her head, a grin growing on Vernon’s face. “Oh my god. I could hug you!”

“Please don’t.”

“I won’t, but… Thank you. I swear, I will work so hard for you! You will not regret this!”

“Okay, calm down dude. When can you start?”

“I can start today if you’ll let me!” She laughed, waving him to come behind the counter.

“Come on back, I can start to show you the ropes.”

“Can I just make a phone call quick?” She nodded, Vernon exiting the bar to call Seungkwan. “Oh, you forgot your…” She said, picking up the necklace off the counter. A minute later, Vernon came back in, ready to work. “Where did you get this?”

“Oh, shoot.” He said, taking the necklace hanging from her hand. “Uh… I don’t really remember. I’ve had it forever.”

“A girl I knew had one just like it.” She said, Vernon looking up.

“Really?”

“Yeah, her name is Y/N. Do you know her?” Vernon thought for a second, shaking his head. “Huh. You two might get along. I haven’t seen her in god knows how long though. Anyway, come on back and I’ll show you the basics.”

*Fairy Tale*

“So… When you said I might be after your hair, you were serious…” Vernon said, looking at his newly healed arm. Some guards almost got you, but with the help of some other thieves and their quick skills, you managed to get away. One of the guards managed to get an arrow into Vernon’s arm, which you had just healed with your magical hair. It was the least you could do.

“Yeah…” You said shyly, not used to showing your hair to anyone besides your mother. Actually, you weren’t used to seeing anyone besides your mother.

“Uhm… How… How did… When did… I have questions.” He said, looking at you. You let out a laugh, poking the campfire with a stick. You’d never seen a fire this big before, and it almost distracted you.

“My whole life? My mother told me that when I was young, people tried to abuse its power. She was worried for my safety, so she took me away to protect me.” You sighed. “It’s… It’s why I haven’t left the tower before. Because if I did, people would try to take advantage of this gift.”

“But, if it can help people, wouldn’t you want it to?” He asked, looking at you. You never thought a thief could be… compassionate.

“It could, but… There’s too much risk.”

“Why don’t you at least cut it? That has to be heavy for you…” He looked at all the hair around him.

“Because when you cut it, it loses its power. It just becomes regular hair.” You said, stroking some of the hair.

“Are you going to return the tower then? After this lantern thing?”

“No… Well, yes… Maybe?” You looked at him, confusion filling you. “I mean, there’s a whole world out there, but if my mother kept me there, she obviously had a reason and is doing what’s best for me… I don’t know.” You sighed, looking around the woods. “How do you know we’re safe here?”

“It’s my friend’s camp. The only people who use it are his group, and they aren’t working right now, so we should be safe here for the night.” He said, getting up to put more wood on the fire.

“How do you know about it then?”

“I used to be a part of his group. Back in my early thieving days.” He said, tossing a log onto the fire.

“Why’d you leave?” You asked, surprised he’s answering questions about himself.

“You could say we have… a different view of how to do things.” He grinned, sitting back down next to you. “Besides, I work better alone. Not much of a team player.” He shrugged, looking into the fire.

“Interesting.” You said, turning yourself to watch the fire. You both sat in silence for a bit, watching the fire crackle.

“Can I tell you something?” He said suddenly, causing you to look at him. You nodded your head, and he took a deep breath. “Okay, only one other person knows this. So you have to swear to never breathe a word of this, to anyone.”

“Okay, I promise.” He turned back to the fire, exhaling.

“I wasn’t always a thief. I used to have a family, and a future. But when I was younger, my parents got really sick. They both passed away within weeks of each other, leaving me to be an orphan. I struggled a lot, trying to find work. But no one wanted some orphan kid to be responsible for. That’s when I met Dino, who had his own crew of thieves. He took me in, and once I was there, I was able to recreate myself. A new past, a new life… A new name.”

“...Name?” You looked at him, seeing a small smile on his face.

“My name is Hansol.” He looked over at you. “Only my best friend still refers to me by that name, only when he’s worried or upset with me though.” He chuckled, turning back to the fire.

“Why are you telling me this?” You quietly asked, turning back to the fire yourself.

“I don’t know. You seem like a good person to tell.” He replied, both of you a little grateful you weren’t looking at each other’s faces.

*Today*

“Alright, you’re all set to go then. I’ll see you tomorrow morning!” The bartender said, smiling at Vernon as he took off the apron and put his jacket back on.

“Excellent. Thank you again for this.” He smiled, finally happy to be completing a day of work.

“I think you’ll be a good fit here.” She waved, gesturing for him to leave. “Now go rest up. Tomorrow we start learning how to balance glasses.” She joked, Vernon leaving the bar. Once outside, he smiled to himself.

Things were looking up.

Sure, it wasn’t the most glamorous job, but it would give him a paycheck, and he could finally start paying his own way. He was about to text Seungkwan that he was done, but then stopped himself. He had a plan. He thought that Seungkwan and the bartender would be a cute match, so he wants the two of them to be alone for a bit. Maybe some sparks will fly.

He began his walk home, sticking his hand in his pocket to get the necklace. But no matter how much his hand dug, he couldn’t find it. Starting to panic, he searched everywhere he could, but he couldn’t find it.

“No… No, no, no, no!” He said, immediately turning around and running back to the bar. He ran into the bar, startling the bartender, who gave him a confused look.

“You okay? What happened?” She asked, looking concerned at him.

“The… Necklace… Is it… Here…” He breathed, he probably shouldn’t have run like that, but he did.

“Oh, yeah.” She said, going to the register. “I found it shortly after you left, and I figured it was important so I put it in here.” She opened it up, handing Vernon the necklace. He looked it over, seeing that it was still in one piece, letting out a sigh in relief.

“Thank you.” He said, putting it back in his pocket.

“Why is that so important to you?”

“I… I honestly don’t know. I just… I can’t lose it. I feel like if I lose it, I’m forgetting something.”

“What are you forgetting?”

“I don’t know. But there’s something. It’s connected to something though. Every time I think about getting rid of it, I can’t do it. I just… I know if I get rid of it, I’ll regret it.” He sighed, the bartender nodding her head.

“You know, that’s not the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” She said, causing Vernon to sigh. “Go home. Get some rest.” He nodded, leaving the bar again.

*Fairy Tale*

“How did you know he was here?” Seungkwan asked, walking quickly down the hall with Chan, heading to the dungeons of the foreign kingdom.

“Because I was looking for another way to find your princess and I saw him getting arrested. Something about the crown, but he was found too obviously, and kept shouting about someone named Y/N. It was very not Vernon. Something’s wrong.”

“Right, well. Thank you for calling me, I’ll talk to the head gua … Woah, woah.” He stopped, looking at Chan. “Why were you looking for my princess?” He asked, Chan sighing.

“Because Vernon asked me to. Let’s go, we don’t have much time.” The glass shattered in Seungkwan’s head, putting the pieces together.

“You’re Dino??”

“Oh for the love of god, we have like, 15 minutes before something really bad and irreversible happens to Vernon. Do you really want me to get into that now?”

“Fair point.” Seungkwan said, causing Chan to roll his eyes.

“Let’s go!” He said, pulling Seungkwan with him. They ran down to the guards station, Seungkwan going in to talk to the guard, Chan running down to find the cell with Vernon. He was down on the end, sitting on the bench with his head in his hands.

“Vernon!” Chan hissed, causing his head to pick up.

“Chan!” He got up, running to the gate. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought Seungkwan. I saw you getting arrested, and figured it could be trouble.”

“There is trouble. Chan, we have to get to her.” Chan furrowed his eyebrows.

“Get to who?”

“Y/N! She’s in trouble!”

“Who… What trouble? What’s going on?”

“She’s the lost princess! Her mother- No, the kidnapper, has her locked away in a tower! We have to go save her before something terrible happens!” Vernon said, still panicking.

“Okay, calm down!”

“We have to go! She could get hurt! We have to save her!”

“Listen, Seungkwan is trying to get you free now. Then we’ll go find this girl.”

“Chan, what if something bad happens…”

“Okay, he’s free!” Seungkwan came running down the hall, a guard following him. “You owe me, big.”

“Seungkwan, thank you!” Vernon said, pleading with the guard to unlock the gate faster. As soon as the door opened, he took off. Chan quickly followed, Seungkwan following confused.

*Today*

Vernon walked through the neighborhood, suddenly drained from the day. He pulled the necklace out of his pocket, stopping and staring at it. Why did he have such an attachment to this? It was just a necklace. He had no memory of getting it or why it mattered. He should be able to just get rid of it.

So why couldn’t he?

He sighed, about to put it in his pocket, then he stopped. He took a deep breath, then let the necklace go. He heard it clank on the concrete, and then continued to walk. It was time to let this go.

He turned around as a warm breeze blew past, confusing him. As he looked around, he suddenly felt dizzy, quickly blacking out on someone’s lawn.

You opened your eyes, hand quickly going to your head. It pounded so much, but you couldn’t fully remember why. You tried to think about what you last remembered… You remember getting back to the tower… You remember your mother being upset about you leaving… You remember crying in your room, holding the sun necklace you had gotten from the village… You remembered the thief…

You quickly sat up, remembering one more thing.

You were the lost princess.

You would have panicked more about that, but you didn’t recognize anything in this room. Nothing was familiar. Where were you? What had happened? You slowly got up, listening throughout the house. You couldn’t hear anything else, but that didn’t mean you were alone. You tiptoed down the stairs, into a hallway. You still couldn’t find anyone, hand going to your head to rub it. Then you noticed something else.

Your hair was short.

What had happened?

As you passed a window, you saw someone laying outside. On instinct, you quietly ran to the front of the house, opening it up. As you got on the front lawn, your heart stopped as you realized who it was.

“Hansol!” You called, running over to him. You crouched next to him, shaking his shoulders a little bit. You saw something shining a couple feet away, reaching over to pick it up. It was the sun necklace, similar to the one around your neck. You sighed over it, feeling tears in your eyes.

“Y/N…” You looked over, Hansol having turned his head to you, awake.

“Hansol!” You cried, falling forward to hug him. He let out a laugh, hugging you back.

“You’re okay.” He breathed, causing you to lean back, pulling him up with you.

“What happened?” You asked, confused. “Why don’t I remember what happened after I got back to my tower?”

“I almost got there too late. My friend’s came with me, but when we got there you were unconscious and your kidnapper was getting ready to move you. We wouldn’t have been able to handle them, but then I had a thought…” He moved a hand to brush some hair behind your ear. “Sorry about the hair…” He said, you sighing.

“Well, that explains that.” You said, relaxing a bit. “How did we get here?” You asked, looking around the neat neighborhood. Hansol looked around too, confusion on his face.

“That... I don’t really know.” He looked to you, a smirk on his face. “You up to find out?” You looked up for a second, exhaling.

“Can we just sit for a minute? I feel like 90% of the time I’ve spent with you has been chaos…” You leaned on his shoulder, closing you eyes. “I just... I just want to sit.”

“Sure.” He took your hand in his, looking around and letting out a breath. “We can do that.”

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