#the lamb ones i made ages ago + ive been wanting to pick up her design again because shes fun but alas. the Symptoms got to me first

[apradonite]

biopaws electric boogaloo

[maviemesregles]

Once I was an Eagle

Aaaaaand, I'm back! I know it's been bloody ages since the last update but I needed a break. I also had been busy with other ficlets so OIWAE was put on pause. But the story is back and I do hope you like this instalment. I really, really like this chapter.

I am absolutely horrible at answering the comments (which I'll fix, promise) but I do see each one of them! I LOVE reading what your thoughts are, whether you liked some moment or a particular turn of phrase, I appreciate it all. No matter if it's one word, emoji, or a big analysing comment. Thank you lovies for staying here with me. <3

Anne, you’re my gem  💜 @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur​

Read on AO3

     Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

Chapter IV: Lovestruck. Part I

Chapter V: Lovestruck. Part II

Chapter VI: Flecks of Sun

Chapter VII: Mince pies & baubles

                                           Chapter VIII: Home

Blood pounded in Claire’s ears muffling the music and the howling wind outside. Jamie’s face blurred as the tears gathered at the brink of her lower lashes. She inhaled deeply, blinking furiously to get rid of the swell of moisture in her eyes. Closing them Claire could feel Jamie moving towards her, gently touching her arm, voice concerned.

“Claire, was it too early? Did I-”

He could not finish his sentence because she dissolved into ugly crying. Clinging to him, gasping for air and in general being an awful mess.

“Shh, mo graidh. Shh. Tis alright.” His hands wrapped around Claire in a familiar way, thumb circling the tender skin at her nape softly.

“I.. I’m going to ruin your shirt.” Sniffing, voice muffled by his aforementioned shirt Claire leaned back to look at the mess she created. Her running nose and damp cheeks imprinted a mascara-black wet blot on green fabric. She could hear Jamie chuckle as he picked her up and sat down with Claire curled on his lap.

“I dinna care one bit about the shirt, lass.” Lips gently pressed a kiss to her forehead. Claire sighed though still gasping for air. The comfort of Jamie’s warmth made her body become limp.

“I’m not crying because I am sad,” Claire whispered, hand cupping the back of his head. “I... I’m crying because I’m happy, Jamie. Happy to live with you.”

Dropping a kiss on the bridge of her nose, he smiled.

“Aye. Me too, my Sassenach.”

* * *

It was the beginning of what seemed like an endless hunt for what would become a perfect flat for us. We spent about three weeks chasing an ideal place, checked at least ten flats scattered all over Edinburgh but none of them was quite what we were looking for (not far away from my work; with a park nearby to allow Jamie to go on his morning jogs. And it needed to have a large living room and be pet-friendly.)

Jamie (bare-chested, skin still flushed from the shower) was performing his magic by preparing the scrambled eggs I loved so much while I sat on the windowsill, feet in fuzzy socks propped up the wall. As I scrolled through rental ads on Jamie’s iPad I felt the pressure of upcoming headache from all this searching. And suddenly, there it was. The place that we were looking for.

A stone-built ground floor house had a spacious kitchen and a huge living room adorned with an old fireplace. The ceilings were so high I thought there is no end to them. “Canna wait to hear yer voice inside these walls” Jamie smirked at me as we followed behind the agent chirping away about how great this flat is. “Whatever do you mean?” I quirked my brow at him. He leaned closer, whispering into my ear, his warm breath tickling the little hairs on my nape. “Weel, those sounds ye make when I-” Giggling, my elbow pressed into his ribs, stopping him before any dangerous and inappropriate (for the agent) revelations could occur.

Grand windows allowed the sun to slip into every little corner of the flat and made it breathe with light. There were two bedrooms with hardboard wooden floors and a small study fully equipped with bookshelves. French doors in the kitchen opened to a garden with a southern exposure was the last deciding straw for me. It had everything we needed. Adso would be welcome to live here, it was a fifteen minute drive from my work and there was a park just across the street. Although it was rather pricey, Jamie ignored my hissing remark “Almost four grand quid? Fucking insane,” and said that we should sign the rental agreement. I kissed him senseless allowing the feeling that this is us now, our own place fill me up.

The rental price had changed our plans a little bit. Forcing us to spend a couple of days moving small furniture and other possessions Jamie and I owned to our new accommodation by ourselves. At the end of it all, sweaty and tired, we sat on the boxes in the empty living room, watching the snowfall outside the huge windows.

“Are ye happy, Sassenach?” Jamie gently pulled me by the wrist to his side. My hands cradled his face as I stood up and found myself a prisoner between his thighs.

“Of course I am, James Fraser,” thumb caressing the apple of his cheeks I glanced around. “Only I have no idea how we are going to organize this mess.” It feels like between the two of us there are millions of boxes and bags, packages. I’ve brought the plants I owned (the only three I managed not to kill), a box full of uncle’s Lamb belongings, an enormous contemporary art painting Geillis got me for my 30th birthday two years ago. Adso had his belongings too, a scratching post, litter tray and his own little blanket. Adso himself was being babysat by Geillis while I and Jamie tried to sort out our moving. Jamie was currently sitting on a stash of my medical books destined for the study.

“We’ll manage, a nighean ” His hands patted my hips, bringing me closer. Planting a soft kiss on the washed fabric over my sternum, Jamie looked up. “We canna do more than our best.”

My stomach had the quite opposite opinion of doing our best and rumbled loudly.

“God, I’m starving” yawning I reached for the cellphone.

Later, full and warm with chicken ramen, curry with prawns and wok-fried greens we had just enough strength in us to unpack most of the carton boxes that said “Kitchen”. In that hour and a half, we managed to laugh, listen to Jamie’s Dire Straits playlist on his phone and argue over ridiculous things. Putting away a bitty family of my mugs and cups Jamie dropped my favourite mug Frank bought me a very long time ago and I never could get rid of it. It was massive and bright yellow, with Friends on it. It was my all-time binge-love TV show. It shattered in yellow pieces atop the counter and floor. I didn't mean to snap. But we both were bone-weary from a long day of moving back and forth, of a week packing before, exhausted from all the searching catching up with us. Suddenly I felt my chin quiver at the sight of my beloved, now broken mug.

“I’m sorry, Sassenach.” Jamie bit his lip, trying to reach me with his hand over the island counter but I shrugged away.

“Why are you so bloody clumsy, ” I mumbled, kneeling to pick up broken ceramic bits. Jamie rubbed his face, clearly wanting to say something, but instead he bent to help.

Annoyed just by him breathing next to me at that moment I dropped collected pieces straight into the bin. When he tried to sweep the floor from the dusty mug remains I snapped.

“Oh, please, just move away, or you’re going to break something else.”

I regretted the words right after I’ve said them but blood was already pounding in my ears and there was no way back.

“I said I’m sorry,” Jamie muttered, looking visibly irritated himself now. “It’s just a mug, I’ll buy ye a new one.”

The tension crackled with its force.

“I don’t want another bloody mug! ” I barked at him trying to busy myself opening a new box. “Frank gave it to me. It was my favourite one.”

Time seemed to stop for a second as Jamie slowly licked his lips looking me straight in the eyes.

“Frank?”

Unable to hold his gaze anymore I turned my back to him staring out of the window.

“Don’t you start playing a jealous boyfriend on me,” I grunted, telling myself to calm down. You know he doesn’t mean it bad.

He grumbled and I could hear him retreating to the living room.

“Why are ye bitching about it, Claire?” He hissed and I thought I could feel his words crawl inside me like a poisonous snake.

“What?” I followed him to the room (aka the mess) full of boxes.

“Nothing.”

“Repeat what you just said,” I demanded.

He didn’t. Instead, we spent the next hour in different rooms unpacking. Or pretending to. I wasn't able to do a proper job and stopped on one box. As the sweat cooled off on my skin and the urge to cry faded away I plodded down the hallway towards the bathroom. Passing the living room I caught a glimpse of Jamie placing my candles (that he hated) on top of the fireplace. The sight gave my heart a painful (and guilty) squeeze. Deciding that taking a shower, putting fresh PJs on and making us both a nice cup of tea would make both of us feel better.

I turned on the hot water. It was blissful and caused me to go limp. Engrossed as I was I did not hear Jamie come in. Shedding his clothes wordlessly, he stepped into the shower behind me. Cupping one breast, he dropped a kiss on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry I snapped, Claire. And I’m sorry for ye wee mug.”

Turning to face him, I nodded and kissed his jaw softly.

“I am sorry, Jamie. I was unreasonable and acted like a jerk.”

Our earlier argument was mended when his lips sealed on my neck, leaving me breathless. Moments later I cried out as I sagged against the tiled wall, him still inside me.

We slept on a makeshift bed that Jamie constructed from his mattress and two blankets just right in front of the fireplace. We laid, limbs entwined, among the boxes and bags, hands lazily tracing hills and valleys of each other bodies. “I love you,” I whispered before my mind drifted away into the realm of Morpheus.

* * *

Weeks later our flat finally started looking like somebody really lives here. With all our mismatched furniture, collection of books (mine mainly botany and poems, and Jamie’s classics and fantasy), with a horrid motorbike engine of Jamie’s (the one he used to drive in his uni days). No matter how much I asked him to throw that away he squealed like a girl protecting her virtue, not letting me come near that metal monstrosity. We agreed to put it away in the second bedroom which initially became a storage room.

One evening as I rocked my hips atop of him Jamie smirked that we marked each room in this flat. “ Aye, we did” I said mimicking him as I yanked my scrub top off over my head. Jamie made my body go limp against the shower tiles; he drew mewling sounds out of me on the kitchen table; my moans bounced off those high ceilings in the living room; his laboured breathing filled our bedroom and crawled up the walls. I gasped at the feeling of him in the storage room when Jamie announced his evident desire for a quickie; and he groaned “Oh, Claire” following his meandering Gaelic cursing as his hands tangled in my curls while I kneeled down unzipping his jeans.

Every time I showed up at work Geillis would never forget to ask me with a wink “So, my darling, how’s yer wee ginger? Loves ye well? I TOLD YE. Yer fucking glowing like a candle, Claire.”

Living with Jamie was a whole new experience. Now I had the luxury to wake up to his sleepy face and mussed curls every day. He would make the most miserable facial expression as I switch on the table lamp, grunting and burying himself under the layers of blanket. James Fraser was definitely not a morning person. “Five in the morning is torture,” he mumbled sleepily as I pressed a goodbye kiss to his forehead. “Normal people sleep at this time, ye ken. Go, save yer humans, Sassenach.” Squeezing my hand he turned to snooze immediately. But as soon as I got to work my phone would beep with his text message every morning “Have a great day, a nighean. Love ye.”

Any other morning I had a chance to stay in bed longer he’d wake me up with his hands, his mouth and his body molding into mine much like matching puzzle piece. I could not remember life without him anymore. Without his perfect morning coffee for me; without our banter or seriousness full talks in the darkness of the night, his hands on my hip, thumb carving the shape of my pelvic bone; without lazy evenings on the couch with Netflix and takeaway, my head resting on his chest, Jamie’s hand wrapped around my waist, and Adso curled on his lap.

Every day I had a pleasure of observing his fucking gorgeous post jog body. But like any other couple, we shared our bit of things that drove us crazy. Jamie had this annoying habit to turn the TV on so loud I had to scream like a banshee from the kitchen to get his attention. He also seemed to be very dedicated at the task of leaving the puddle of water on the bathroom floor after showering. I would not even want to mention his morning cologne spraying session that left a suffocating smell in the hallway. But, I myself was far from perfect. I had to endure him rolling his eyes at me and making disgusted faces as he plucked my hair out from the shower drain. Also, Jamie was patient with me and my attempts to cook and never protested eating ordered food. He would often volunteer for the task seeing me struggle with slimy spaghetti. But all those things did not matter as each night I fell asleep saying “I love you” lulled by his steady heartbeat beneath my cheek.

It had gotten to the point where I found that I could not live without him. So when Jamie had to leave to Inverness for three days I cursed at his business the whole day. Without him, I felt like the part of me was torn away and even Adso purring by my side couldn’t remedy the feeling. That’s why now I shamelessly found my place on Jamie’s lap, sparkling rosé in my hand. Our kitchen was filled with laughter, chats and instrumental indie playing from Google Home speaker Jenny and Ian gave us as a gift. The food was rich and tasty, the wine was pleasantly chill and Jamie’s left hand on my hip too much to handle. We haven’t made love for three days and I was positively flushed with desire. My skin was on fire - a mix of alcohol, laughter and Jamie.

“So, Claire, I do hope ye like yer wee rug?” Angus tried to wink at me sipping his red. I rolled my eyes and looked over my shoulder to have a look at his present again. It was a door rug in a bright green colour with a white cat on it that said: “Don’t forget to pet my pussy-cat”. He shoved it into my hands grinning. I was taken aback and did not know what to say. Meanwhile, Jamie broke into almost hysterical laughter, as I stood mouth agape. “Ye do have a cat, no?” Angus snorted and I only managed to nod as he welcomed himself inside our flat.

“Very thoughtful present,” I said, saluting my glass to Angus.

Untangling myself from Jamie’s embrace I excused myself to the bathroom. I washed my hands and caught sight of my face in the mirror. Cheeks pink coloured I splashed cold water on my face, feeling the drops run down my neck. Hair drawn back in a sweaty knot. When Jamie opens the door there is a trail of loud raucous laughter coming from the kitchen follows him.

“I’ll be right back,” I said thinking he came to get me. But the next moment the latch on the door clicked closed. His lips sought mine and he tasted of whisky leaving the burning sensation on my lips. His hands reached under my sweater, tracing the small of my back and then soft skin on my belly.

“I love them all, but I swear if they dinna leave soon, I’m going to have to kill all our guests” Jamie breathed out heavily as my hands fumbled with his belt, tugging at the stubborn zipper of the jeans. He cursed something in Gaelic that I did not understand when my fingers found his hot flesh.

“I might kill them myself,” I agreed, gently biting at his earlobe. My mouth fell open when Jamie snaked a hand between us, curling and tasting me with his fingers exactly right.  

“Christ, Claire” He muttered under his breath, fingers damp from his exploration. But our moment was rudely interrupted by Murtagh unceremoniously knocking on the door. “What are ye doing there, ye wee beasties? We need more booze.” Grunting in annoyance Jamie slid his belt back in and reached to pull my rolled sweater down. Kissing him chastely, we made it out back to our guests.

Over the next several days, we both were swirled into the routine business of life seeing each other mostly in the evenings. I’ve been extra busy at work and Jamie still had to finish important tasks at the brewery. Both of us exhausted, we barely managed to order takeaway, with me falling asleep on the couch as soon as the food was finished as a new episode of Peaky Blinders played. Jamie would carry me to the bedroom. He crept in beside me covering us both with a quilt. We would touch fingertips and sleep holding each other until the sun came uninvited, crawling inside the room. There was a silent agreement between us and the sex was at bay. There was a day when Jamie’s hands glided over my hips, finger drawing patterns at the panties waistband. Sleepily, I mumbled that I’m gross and disgusting and in need of a shower and shave. The other day I managed to pull off my sexiest face and slowly pull down my knickers I turned to find Jamie had fallen asleep soundly, mouth slightly agape. Chuckling, I picked my discarded underwear and slid under the blankets next to his starfish sprawled body.

Standing in the locker room at the hospital I’ve snapped a photo of myself. I turned myself provocatively displaying my ass to look as if I spent days in the gym (I did not of course) but nonetheless Jamie seemed more than fascinated by this body part of mine. Sending him the picture with capslock text “TONIGHT FRASER” I retreated back to work. All morning and lunch I spent thinking of the upcoming evening. Geillis took me out of my thoughts by grabbing my hand in the hallway.

“Claire, are ye alright?” Her eyes examined my face worriedly. “Ye look as pale as the wall behind ye.” I shook my head, reassuring her it’s nothing but a bit of nausea.

“I’m fine, Geil.” Running a palm over my clammy forehead I felt the imminent need to vomit. “It’s probably that sushi I had for lunch with Joe. I told him it did not look good.”

Giving me judgmental-mother look and shaking her head Geillis still made me sit down and close my eyes.

“Ye work too much, lass. Jamie needs to take ye on a holiday.”

The perspective of vacation sounded like an unreachable luxury at the moment but under Geillis’s superior look I agreed to go home earlier tonight. It started to rain hard outside when I crossed the threshold, dropping the bags of groceries down. Deciding that I might as well cook today instead of having takeaway again I strolled down the kitchen feeling slightly wamble and dizzy. After taking Pepto-Bismol and hoping it’ll help calm down my disgruntled stomach I opened a can of cat food, summoning Adso. But my cat was nowhere in sight. I’ve checked every nook and little corner, under the bed and couch. In the storage room as last time Jamie closed the cat in there by accident. My furry baby seemed to have vanished into thin air and I felt an oncoming wave of worry mixed with nausea. The open window in our bedroom hit me with a realisation. Eyes swelling with tears I dialled Jamie.

“Christ, Sassenach, I must have forgotten to close the damn window and the cheetie ran away.”

He promised to find him. I spent the evening googling stories of cats running away and cried some more thinking of my poor Adso alone in the cold rain, scared and hungry. I was sure I would not see my cat again. It was around midnight when the front door opened, Jamie’s footfalls startling me from my broken sleep on the couch. I rubbed my puffy eyelids as Jamie stepped inside the room.

His clothes were soaking wet, face painted with tiredness. But the smile on his lips was an encouraging sign. Unfolding his jacket Jamie stroked Adso’s grey ear who was nestled against his chest.

“Jamie! Oh, I can’t believe you did it.” I jumped up, taking Adso into my arms. He was wet and dirty, paws leaving marks on my skin. “Where did you find him?”

Taking off the jacket, Jamie leaned down to receive my kiss on his cheek.

"Here, you must be freezing cold." I reached for the bottle of whisky, pouring him a glass. When he gulped it down and his cheeks turn into baby-pink he told me.

“Ye’d never believe it. I spent hours just driving over the neighbourhood, mistaken at least three cats for him, but he was nowhere. And then I had an idea, it was crazy but possible.” Jamie ran his hands through his damp curls. “I drove to yer old place. And there he was, sitting in front of the door of yer old flat.”

“Oh, my poor baby,” Cradling Adso I reached for the towel I had just in case Jamie managed to bring him home. “Why did you run away, you silly?”

“I’m sorry, Claire. 'Twas my fault, I left the window open.” Jamie patted my thigh gently, looking guilty.

Lening in to kiss him, I traced his cheekbones with my fingers.

“You found him, Jamie. It’s all fine.”

* * *

Jamie woke to the sudden absence of Claire in the bed, her side of the blanket looking like a messy ball at the end of the bed. He could hear the water running in the bathroom. Glancing at the clock that showed three in the morning Jamie called out her name. When no response followed, he swung his legs down the bed, worry caused a cold feeling in his stomach as he walked to the bathroom.

“Sassenach, are ye al-” The words stuck in his throat seeing her small figure, curled on the floor next to the toilet. “Christ, Claire, what happened?” He kneeled down, cradling her head into his lap. His heart was pounding away in his ribcage, fear filling every fiber of his being. She looked pale as a paper sheet, sweaty curls stuck to her skin. Shaking her head weakly, she mumbled as quiet as he ever heard her “I’m okay.” But she was decidedly not okay. Her eyes closed then. Jamie picked her up, rushing to the car outside and mentally thanking all existing Gods that the hospital was just fifteen minutes away. Jamie was there in precisely seven minutes.

[razziliciousart]

Rebellion

It was my first time I had been trusted to sell wares alone. I had turned twelve only weeks earlier, and my mother had finished weaving all our wool into spools of yarn and thread. Father had had a bountiful harvest that left many sizable pumpkins in my care to sell. But mother was close to giving birth to my sister, and father needed to be near when it happened to take care of her. So he entrusted me with the city business. I had never been to the city alone. I had only gone with mother, and she made sure to keep me in the safest areas. It was exciting and frightening all at once. But I knew I would be alright. I was bright and charismatic, if I do say so myself. Our family donkey, Stella, was strapped to the covered wagon stashed with wool goods and pumpkins. I had packed coin from the kingdom I would be visiting, and some essential items for a weeks travel. 

It took two days and one night to reach the city. And another day to set up my wagon and booth. Luckily, with winter approaching, the wool goods sold quickly. As did the pumpkins, since many enjoy a nice pumpkin stew on cold nights. I decided to spend my final day exploring the city, maybe using a bit of coin to buy some foods for the trip home. I had spent coin on fresh bread and come cheese and eggs and vegetables. I would make bread bowl stew for dinner tonight instead of eating the same leftover tavern soup. On my way back to my wagon, movement caught my eye in a dark alleyway. I glanced over and gave a soft horrified gasp when I saw the skeletal figure of a nearly naked boy huddled against the wall. The air was chilled and he had no source of warmth. And his body looked so frail and brittle, though he was probably my age. How could these people walk right past this boy without a second glance? Was this normal for a kingdom? I decided to do something.

I rushed to my wagon and found a warm wool coat mother had made me along with wool socks I typically wore to bed. I used the things i bought to make two bread bowls. One bigger than the other. I brought the bread bowls and clothes back to the alley and stepped into the shadows, sitting right beside the poor boy, "Here" i said, setting the things down, "I brought some things for you" i pulled out the socks, "These are wool. Straight from the sheep my mother raised. Theyll keep your toes from chilling" i set them in his lap, "And this-" i pulled open the coat and draped it over his form, "Same wool from the same sheep. Itll help keep you warm" i lifted both bread bowls and offered him the larger one, "Eat up. I just finished making it. Its cheese, eggs, vegetables, bread, and some pumpkin from my fathers harvest" i smiled to him, turning to my own bread bowl to eat it.

"I cannot believe this kingdom. So many people just walk right past those in need and dont even turn their heads. So awful!" I scoffed, "I dont understand how they can be so apathetic. So heartless." I shook my head and ate a bite of my stew, leaning back on the wall and looking at the boy, "Hey. I want you to promise me something, ok? Promise me youre not going to give up, ok? Things are hard, but thats just how life is. Youve gotta fight and bite and claw your way. Youve gotta fight for a better life. I want you to promise me youll do that, ok? Thatll be your payment to me for the food and wool. That youll live a better life." I said, smiling to him, "Maybe when we're older and youre big and strong and living your life, we'll meet again! And I can show you my family farm and all our animals" i told him. He watched me with wide eyes as he pulled on the clothes, scarfing down the bread stew hungrily. Just before I left, he caught my skirts, "I swear to you" he said, voice hoarse and ragged with fatigue, "I will fight. And I will become strong and I will find you and protect you" he told me. I smiled and took his hand from my skirts to give it a gentle shake, "Its a deal, then"

I dont know what happened to that boy. After we finished eating, I said goodbye and returned to my wagon. And Stella and I returned home the following morning. My parents were proud of me for my success in the city, and I got to meet my baby sister, Tyaila. We called her Ty. For her first birthday, I had decided to try my hand at making herbal remedies. This one would turn her tongue blue, which I knew would delight her. In doing so, I found a passion in making such remedies. I spent my adolescence learning the craft and helping my parents sell their wares as well as mine.

Im now twenty four. In my prime and at a marriagable age. But I wasnt worrying about that, I wanted to perfect my craft and find a man I loved. I wanted my sister to know she could find value in her own achievements without being a wife. My sister... she was twelve now. The same age I had been when I met that poor boy. I hoped he was doing well. I hoped he was successful and had a warm home. Now that I looked, Ty looked almost identical to ne when I was that age. Except she kept her hair short. I was currently outside with my sister. A week ago, one of our sheep had given birth to a small lamb, who had decided I was his second mother. While a selkie chicken we had was his second father. My sister and I were giving the lamb a good brushing. We didnt typically brush the sheep, but he had been a naughty lamb and rolled in the mud. We had to clean him up. 

A distance sound pulled my attention from our actions. Further in the village, where most trades happened, i saw a pillar of smoke and heard screams. Mother and father were currently there. But something felt wrong. My heart began to thunder in my ears and my brain was telling me to run. Pick up Ty and run. But my legs wouldnt listen. More smoke rose. Ty stood at my side, the lamb in her arms, "Sis?" She spoke. Thats when I saw it. Armored men on horses. Swords and torches in their hands. I gasped, eyes wide. People of our village were fleeing on mules and in carriages, desperate to save their families. I made Ty set the lamb down and lifted her in my arms before running, leaving the gate to the sheep pin open. They could escape. We could find them later. 

I caught up to a fleeing carriage, kissing my sisters cheek before throwing her into the wagon. The woman driving it was a neighbor, who I knew would keep my sister safe, "Ill find you, I promise" i told her. But first, I had to find our parents. I swallowed the lump in my throat before rushing back to the village. Everything was in flames. And among the flames, i found no signs of my parents. The voices of the men grew louder. I had to run. I would find them later. And together, we would retrieve Ty. As I fled, i noticed our newborn lamb standing helplessly beside a slain sheep. His mother. Our chicken perched on his back. With a curse, i lifted the lamb and bird, running from the flaming village with a small group of other villagers. A group would be safer to flee with. 

One of the soldiers, wearing the fanciest armor and largest horse, came chasing us. He didnt take long to catch up and cut off our group. Everyone dropped to their knees and dropped their heads, hoping to be spared. Except me. I stood with my lamb and chicken in my arms, breath shuddering as I stared up at the mounted soldier, his horse pawing the ground like a beast from hell. I swallowed thickly and held the animals closer, a defiant scowl on my face as I glared up at him. The other soldiers were quick to catch up on their own horses. And I felt a sudden pain on my back as one kicked me to my knees, "Learn your place, wench!" He spat. I grunted as i fell to the ground, using my body to shield my animals from the soldiers.

The other soldiers dismounted their horses, approaching me as i glared at them. I could almost hear their smiles under their helmets as they came closer, hands on their swords. I was prepared to face their worst. "Lay a hand on her and it will no longer be attached to your body" a booming ice cold voice said. I looked up when I realized it came from the soldier who chased after us. My body went rigid as the soldier dismounted his massive hellish stallion and weaved through the other villagers as he approached me, "I have been searching for this one for a long time. Take the others away" he ordered. The soldiers nodded and rounded up the other villagers. I watched as they were led back to the other captured villagers. This wasn't a good sign. I feared the worst from this soldier.

He came closer, reaching an armored hand out. I took the opportunity to strike a leg out, aiming for his groin, but his opposite hand caught my ankle before it met its mark. I gasped and stumbled at the sudden imbalance and he was quick to pull me by my leg and into his arms. I stared at the helmets grate wide eyed in shock at the sudden closeness. I could feel his eyes on me. This was definitely not good. Lucky for me, the chicken currently caught between us began to peck aggressively at his armor, making him pull back from me to get some distance. We were silent as we observed one another carefully before he finally spoke, "I have been looking for you for so long... Those eyes, that hair... and sheep... You must be her..." he reached up, pulling off his helmet. Shaggy dark locks shook droplets of sweat as he shook his head free, narrow golden hazel eyes gazed down at me. He looked... terrifying... he gave a hollow smirk before bowing at his waist, an arm over his chest, "I kept my word" he told me, "I fought. I bettered my life. Ive dedicated my life to becoming strong. I can protect you. Provide for you." He continued, standing straight again.

Recognition flashed in my eyes. This man. He was that small peasant boy? That frail skeletal child at deaths door? My eyes examined his face and down his body. Even with the armor, I could tell he was no longer the brittle child cowered in the shadows. My first thought was relief. Relief that the boy I assumed to be dead was, in fact, alive and thriving. That relief was quickly turned to fury as I realized the boy I showed compassion to became a cold blooded soldier, attacking helpless farming villages and burning homes to the ground. My hands shook with rage and I lowered myself as calmly as I could to set down the two animals in my arms, standing up straight again, "So this is what became of you" i spoke. He nodded, opening his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when i struck him with an open handed slap across his face. "How wonderful it is to have a boy you helped return twelve years later and burn your fucking village to rubble!" I snapped. He held a hand to his face and stared at me in shock for a moment, "I thought you would become a merchant or farmer, not a monster!" I continued. His face turned from shock to a steely calm. The other soldiers returned, telling him of the other villagers being captured. He nodded and waved them off, his gaze never leaving me. He stepped closer as they left, and no amount of steps back stopped him from throwing me over his shoulder and onto his terrifying steed. He got onto the horse behind me, his armored arms moving to either side of me to hold the reigns as he rode to catch up to the other soldiers.

I couldnt look at the other villagers as they watched me on the horse while they walked in bonds. How did they see me now? What was I going to do? These soldiers would surely kill me if I tried to run again. And this man, as horrible as he was, had decided I was his prize. I was silent as night fell and we approached a camp. Many tents scattered the area with horses and carriages and worst of all- more soldiers. In the back, more villagers were bound to a large fallen log, where the villagers from my village were brought and added to the group. The man behind me dismounted the horse. Perhaps I could escape. Grab the reigns and run before he could react- hands grabbing my waist and pulling me down from the horse ended that thought. I pushed him away from me roughly once my feet were on the ground, giving him a glare of death.

I brushed my hands on my skirt and turned to join the rest of my people at the log when the man caught my arm, "No" he said, "My tent is this way" he pointed. My blood ran cold and eyes widened as he pulled me along. His tent?? I would be staying in his tent? This wasnt good. My mind raced with every horrible thing he could do with me trapped in a tent. He pushed me through the flaps once we reached it before following behind me. Inside I saw a bedroll, scattered clothing, some weapons, and a small desk with papers ontop. He cleared his throat, making me look up at him, "Ruben" he introduced himself, giving another bow at the waist. I turned away from him, my body rigid as I waited for what was to come. He stood straight, turning from me to begin removing his armor, "You take the bedroll. I will make sure none disturb your rest." He spoke as the last piece of armor dropped to the floor. He wore simple trousers and a tunic underneath, both soaked and sticking to his form from sweat. He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, "If you need something to sleep in, I can give you one of my tunics-" "I would rather sleep naked in an ants nest" i interrupted harshly, refusing to look at him.

Ruben sighed and nodded, "Very well. I will leave you to rest as you like. I will be just over here. I suggest not trying to leave, though. The other men are... Not to be trusted. Especially not with a maiden like yourself..." he said. I scoffed, "As though youre trustworthy" i muttered, though I knew he heard. A frown settled on his face and he silently turned to take a seat at his small desk, eyes roaming the papers. I examined the tent for a long while, trying to think of a means to escape. I had to find Ty. I had to find my parents. None of them had been with the other captured villagers. Does that mean they escaped? Gods, i hoped so. I folded my arms across my chest, fingers grasping my arms until my knuckles were white. What was I going to do? How was I going to escape? As the night wore on, I could feel fatigue weighing my eyelids down. No... I had to stay awake. I couldnt allow myself vulnerability around these beasts. But before I could stop it, i found myself laying on the ground, eyes closed and breathing steady.

Ruben looked away from his papers to watch the woman sleep on the ground. She was beautiful. Just like the day he met her. He had been serious about his vows. To protect her and take care of her. How could he do that when she rejected him so harshly? This wasnt the reunion he dreamt of for so long. Had he realized the country his king decided to attack was in fact her home, he wouldve never agreed to lead the kings army. But it was too late now... wasnt it? For her, he would turn on his king. For her, he would fight every soldier he considered a comrade. For her, he would dismantle the entire kingdom's hierarchy. For her, he would do anything. She was worth it. Rebellion wasnt beyond him. He stood from his desk, leaning down. One arm carefully tucked under her knees while the other cradled her body to his chest. She released a soft sigh, making him freeze until he was sure she hadnt woken. For a long moment, he stood with her in his arms. Relishing in her warmth. Her intoxicating scent. Her weight against his chest. He watched her sleep. Such soft plump pink lips lightly parted. Long eyelashes curled like a butterflys wing. Rosy cheeks so soft and plump. She looked even better this close. He slowly walked to the bedroll and laid her down, pulling the cover over her up to her shoulders. He pushed her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear and watching her sleep. And he decided.

Her love was worth a rebellion.