#the queen's trilogy is fine

[jewishcissiekj]

E. K. Johnston's dedication to writing books that could be so good but just miss everything that would make them good would be admirable if. it was anything to admire

[cromulentreader]

I wish the deleted ending for TQoN was the real ending and not what we got in the mortal world.

[constelationprize]

My main takeaway from TSC now being the second trilogy is that I'm gonna spend the next two books waiting for Stuart to do his routine of showing up out of nowhere, being an absolute cunt for no reason, and then leaving at least one more time. Do I think it will happen? No, I didn't even expect it the first time. But a girl can dream.

[dicaeopolis]

[jkriordanverse]

telling my friend about Shadow and Bone and his honest reaction was Him: Oh, did you know the initials spell SoB, like how you're sobbing at all the dead characters *evil grin*

[atlabeth]

come on back to me - nikolai lantsov

summary: five times you save nikolai and one time he saves you.

a/n: if you've seen my thoughts as i read through siege and storm and ruin and rising then you know that i am deeply in love with nikolai lantsov and since ive finally finished the trilogy i finally feel qualified to write about him lmao. i actually don’t think i’ve written a 5+1 which is crazy so here you go. i wrote this in like 2 days in a spurt of inspiration and im absolutely in love with it, so i hope you all are too!!

title from you’re the one by greta van fleet

wc: 7.3k

warning(s): fem!reader, canon typical violence, siege and storm & ruin and rising book spoilers (i have not watched the show), medical inaccuracies, nikolai's volcra era, hurt/comfort and a happy ending (as usual)

Os Alta

It all happened rather quickly. 

One moment, you were in the infirmary mending a poor soldier’s broken arm. The next, screams were erupting everywhere. 

You and the soldier locked eyes, and you did a final bit of healing on his arm before you nodded at each other and darted off. 

The soldier grabbed his gun and went further into the palace, no doubt to find the royal family, and you adjusted the collar of your kefta before you ran out into the fray. 

Nichevo’ya had surrounded everything, attacking anyone they could find, and their shadowy bodies were like a void’s blight on the land. You knew the sight would be forever burned into your mind.

You knew the Darkling was going to march on Os Alta, that he would have to do it directly to use his shadow soldiers, but this was so much earlier, so much worse than you’d expected. Enforcements were meant to come from Poliznaya. You guessed that was off the table. 

You were fine at fighting—alright with a pistol and better with a dagger—but you were a Healer. You spent more time dealing with the aftermaths of battles, more skilled at setting broken bones and mending bullet wounds than inflicting them. 

Times like these were the ones when you normally questioned your decision to not hone your abilities into a Heartrender, but now you would at least be a dead man either way. Nichevo’ya didn’t exactly have hearts to stop and organs to manipulate. 

You had to get to the other Grisha. You had to make sure the Sun Summoner made it through this attack, even if it meant you wouldn’t. 

You broke into a sprint, trying your best to ignore the crippled and broken bodies in the carnage. Your instincts tugged against you, but you knew there was nothing to be done. If you stopped to help a dead man, you would soon join them. 

You nearly battered into a group of people from your speed and lack of attention, and you reeled to the side seconds before a head-on collision. When you looked up, drawing in ragged breaths in the one second of rest you’d gotten, your eyes widened. 

You were face to face with the royal family. The King, the Queen, and Nikolai Lantsov. The absence was glaring. 

“Grisha,” Nikolai breathed, and he grabbed onto your shoulders like a madman as his fingers ran over the embroidery. He might as well have been one, the way wildfire flickered in his eyes. “You’re a Healer? One of Alina’s?”  

You nodded rapidly. “Are you—” 

“I’m getting them to safety on the Kingfisher,” he cut off, “and she wants me to get that old woman as well.”

“Baghra—?”

“You’re a Healer?” the King interrupted harshly. Your heart stuttered—you’d never been directly addressed by the King, but you supposed circumstances like these called for different standards. 

“Yes,” you nodded. “Are you hurt?” 

“My wife,” he said, and your attention turned to the Queen. Genya’s absence had taken a toll on her, and the shards of glass sticking out of her side weren’t doing her pallid frame any favors. 

“Madraya,” Nikolai whispered, his eyes wide, “I didn’t even notice.” 

“Alexander—” her voice was ragged, her entire appearance pallid— “we’ve much bigger concerns.” 

“Nonsense.” The King’s gaze bore into you. “We have time. Heal her.” 

You screwed your eyes shut, your hands closing into fists for a moment before both opened and you nodded. “Keep an eye out, moi tsarevich,” you huffed, and you moved to the Queen’s side. Nikolai’s head perked up for a moment at your words, but it disappeared just as quickly as he adjusted his grip on his pistol. 

“Of course,” he said wryly. “Not that I don’t trust your work, and not that I don’t trust my abilities, but it would be grand if you could do this quickly.” 

“Working as fast as I can,” you muttered, ignoring the noises the Queen made as you pulled the shards of glass out with little care. Your mentors would be rolling in their graves if they could see you. 

“Vasily is dead, by the way,” Nikolai said, attention focused on the nichevo’ya all around. Thankfully, you’d run into each other in a spot relatively hidden from view. Hopefully it extended to shadow creatures. “I know you were wondering.” 

Your hands faltered for a moment, but it was hardly noticeable as you continued to work. He wasn’t wrong. “I’m so sorry.” 

The Queen choked back a sob, and the King’s face betrayed the slightest bit of emotion. 

“An awful way to go,” Nikolai muttered, more to himself than anything. “But fitting that he brought about his own end.” 

His parents said nothing to your surprise, but you stood up from your knees and nodded at the King and Queen. “She’s healed enough. No internal bleeding, at least.” 

“Healed enough?” the King repeated. “That is not—” 

“It’s the best we can hope for,” Nikolai interrupted sharply. “We’ve already wasted too much time out here.” 

He then nodded, grasping your hands with fierce desperation. “The crown thanks you, darling.” You’d never seen him like this—you’d never seen him fear anything. The Darkling and his creations were a good start. “I thank you, truly.” 

“Just doing my duty,” you assured, and you pulled a small container out of the pocket of your kefta, leftover from your work in the infirmary before it all went to hell, and pressed it into his hand. “She should be alright, but I’ve been slightly rushed. Rub this salve on her wounds when you’re out of danger just to be sure.” 

Nikolai nodded again, slipping it into his own pocket. “Keep our Sun Summoner safe,” he said. “Or else this’ll have all been for nothing.” 

You nodded. “With my life.” 

Nikolai’s eyes met yours, and something unsaid passed between you. Then his hands slipped off of yours, and he continued to herd his parents away from the chaos. You muttered a quick prayer to any Saints that would listen for their safety, and then you head off on your own way. 

2. The Pelican 

You thought either the bones in your hands or the wood was going to crack with how tight you were holding onto the side of the ship. Your heart was still hammering away in your chest—the adrenaline from the battle and Nikolai Lantsov’s sudden appearance and being shot at a thousand different times by a thousand different militiamen still had you quite shaken. 

You knew the sort of chaos you were in for when you made the decision to travel with Alina Starkov rather than stay in the White Cathedral, but you think you hated being in the air like this even more than you hated being trapped underground with those zealots. 

Someone called your name, and you turned to see Adrik a while away with wide eyes. You huffed a sigh as you reluctantly let go and hastened your pace to catch up with him. If he was sent to fetch you, then someone needed healing, and you couldn’t exactly hold off on the one thing you were good at. 

Adrik led you over to a corner of the Pelican where a large portion of your group of Grisha were gathered. Tamar was kneeling next to whoever was injured, one hand splayed above their chest, and you took a deep breath as you forced calmness to wash over your mind. 

“What are we dealing with?” you asked Tamar, but it was clear enough when he spoke up. 

“I’m telling you, it’s fine,” he insisted. “Just a flesh wound.” 

“He was shot,” Tamar said dryly, “and he refuses to accept its severity.” 

“So we meet again,” you said placidly. 

Nikolai seemed to perk up when he saw you, any prior frustration absent from his face as he grinned at you and said your name. “If you’re the Healer here, then I guess I’m not so fine.” 

“Am I ever going to be around you when you’re doing important princely things,” you said as you crouched on the other side of him, Tamar continuing to keep his heart rate steady, “or only when you’re injured?” 

“This is a very important princely thing,” Nikolai said. “I’m showing my soon to be subjects that I’m just like them.” 

“You were shot and you thought you were fine?” You let out a loose sigh and shook your head—it wasn’t worth getting into it. “Keep it steady, Tamar.” 

She nodded, and you reached out to begin unbuttoning his outer coat. He wouldn’t stop shifting around, and it made it infinitely harder. 

“Will you sit still?” you snapped. 

“I am,” Nikolai said. 

“You are not,” you asserted, and you undid the final button on his coat after a struggle, “and you are making this much more difficult.” 

“My apologies,” he said. “Usually women that are taking off my clothes aren’t this angry with me.” 

You scowled, only making his smile grow. 

“You do it yourself if you want to be like that,” you said, letting your hands fall back to your side. “I’m sure the rest of your soldiers will listen to a Healer.” 

“Ah, but none of them bravely threw themselves into danger for you,” Nikolai remarked. “I’m sure that earns me a few points.” 

“Points that you’ve immediately lost by being this difficult with me.” You crossed your arms. “And you did not throw yourself into danger for me—you were in the battle and you got shot.” 

“We came to save you all, and you are a part of it,” Nikolai said. “I’d say I definitely threw myself into danger for you.” 

“You’re impossible.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Will you not even allow a dying man some honor?”

“You are not dying,” you said, “but you will be if you continue talking. Now take off your clothes and stop being so difficult so I can fix this up before you do die.” 

He tutted as he shed his jacket and worked on the rest of his clothing. Princes were apparently fond of multiple layers. “For a Healer, your bedside manner is remarkably poor.”

“Don’t worry,” Nadia piped in, “she’s always been like this.” 

“I have very fond memories of you healing my broken ribs,” Alina said dryly. 

“All of you are still alive,” you said tartly with a glance back at your fellow Grisha, “aren’t you?” 

“I think you made me wish I wasn’t,” Harshaw mused. 

You scowled again and Nikolai laughed. “That bodes very well for me, considering how much I seem to irritate you.” 

“You’re going to be fine,” you grumbled. When you turned back to him, he’d gotten down to his undershirt and unbuttoned it. Blood had spread across the white fabric, but apart from being shot, the wound wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. It’d had the chance to fester for a bit, but with Tamar’s aid it hopefully wouldn’t be a problem.  

You took a deep breath as you placed your hands on his chest—lucky as always, you could sense the bullet missed all his major organs—but Nikolai grimaced before you could even do anything. 

“Are you alright?”

“Your hands are very cold,” he said and you just shook your head. 

“How no one has wrung you by the neck is beyond me.” 

“Many have tried.” He flashed that smile again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add your name to the list.” 

You ignored him, taking another deep breath before you closed your eyes. You felt your power within you, the tug you’d grown accustomed to over the years, and you focused it into a single point. 

You slowly worked on healing Nikolai, making sure you went from the inside out to stop any internal bleeding before you carefully wedged the bullet out with your knife. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his mouth shut for the most part. He watched you the entire time though, wholly unyielding, and it was unnerving. 

Nikolai covered up his pain remarkably well, but you still caught the slightest grimace when you practically stuck a dagger inside him.

“Do you always try to injure your patients more when you’re healing them?” he asked innocently. 

“You typically don’t make fun of the person fixing you up,” you said, and you held up the knife, “or the one holding the blade.”

“Surely you could’ve used David to get it out,” Zoya offered lazily. “Better than practically stabbing the King of Ravka.”

“I’m not the king,” Nikolai said. “Not yet, at least.” 

“And I’m not stabbing him.” You held up the bullet with your other hand, then let it fall to the floor. “I just didn’t feel like digging around inside him.” 

Nikolai picked up the bullet, and you frowned in question. He just shrugged. “To hold onto the fond memories of this battle and the kindest, prettiest Healer I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

Someone snickered behind you, and you turned to see all of them just standing around—Zoya, Harshaw with Oncat perched on his shoulder, Adrik ignoring his sister to watch, even Alina and Mal were still there. At least Tamar had enough sense to stay quiet while she helped you. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you snapped. “It’s hard to focus with you all watching me.”

Alina blinked, seeming to come back to her senses. You almost didn’t blame her—she had so much on her shoulders, it made sense to just want to stand and stare for a minute.

“Right,” she nodded, and she gestured at Zoya and the Squaller siblings as she started walking across the ship, “Adrik, Nadia, I need you all over…”

Alina's words trailed off as she got farther away, and the small crowd dissipated to find duties to carry out without their Sun Summoner to indulge their whims. 

“Thank you for your help, Tamar,” you mumbled. “I can take it from here.” 

She nodded and went off to join the others—the controlled state Nikolai had been in dissolved as she let go of the hold she had on his heart, and the slight daze in his eye went away. 

“Are you always this mean?” Nikolai asked. You turned back to find him with that same unshakable confidence, same lazy smile even in the face of it all. It was no wonder noble and commoner girls alike tripped over themselves when he returned to Ravka. 

It was no wonder Alina fell for his charms despite the tracker by her side—he always knew the right thing to say to make you feel like everything would be okay, and in the midst of Ravka’s endless war, that was a valuable quality indeed.

“I save it for irritating princes,” you remarked. With a final flourish, his wound was sewed up, and Nikolai raised his eyebrows as he touched the newly healed skin.

There was another slight wince, but he still smiled up at you. “Excellent job.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you said.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Grisha handiwork,” Nikolai said as he pulled himself up from the side of the ship. “Especially the healing kind.”

“It would do you good not to get used to it,” you said. “You may not be king yet, but Zoya is right. I’d appreciate it if you tried to stay out of my infirmary.”

“Do you not enjoy my company?” he asked. 

“I don’t enjoy bringing Ravka’s only heir back from the brink after every battle,” you corrected. “You’ve got a lot more weight on your shoulders now, moi tsarevich.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your Ravkan. “Say that again.”

You frowned, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. Nikolai continued staring at you, so you sighed. “Moi tsarevich?”

He laughed, and that only soured your mood further. “What are you laughing about?” 

“I recognized it back during the attack but I didn’t fully think about it,” he said. “It comes out the most with your R’s. You’re not Ravkan, are you?”

You paused at his sudden subject change. “You were focusing on my accent when everyone was dying around us?” 

“Answer the question.” 

Your frown deepened. “I am in most senses of the word.”

Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Kerch.”

Your lips twitched. “Yes, but I don’t—”

“You still haven’t lost the accent somehow,” he continued. “At least, in how you speak certain Ravkan words. Is it Ketterdam?”

“Don’t you have better things to do than quiz your Healer on her childhood?”

“Perhaps,” Nikolai said, eyes twinkling, “but if you’re really my Healer, as you said yourself, I’m surely allowed to ask as many questions as my heart desires.”

“Your heart desires no more,” you said wryly. “I have other injured to attend to. Call if you find yourself actively dying.”

To his credit, he didn’t try to fight it. Just offered that same smile that weakened knees from the Kaelish to the Shu. “I’ll be sure to ring before I’m dead and buried.”

“Put your clothes back on before you do,” you said.

“Ah, but isn’t this your reward for putting up with the irritating prince?” Nikolai asked with a slight gesture at his chest. “I’d imagine you’d want to keep an eye on your handiwork.”

That sparked a rare smile of your own, and you bowed your head. “Moi tsarevich,” you said before you walked off.

You felt Nikolai’s eyes on you even as you approached an injured First Army soldier, and after the first few preliminary questions you couldn’t help but look back. 

When you did, he was gone. 

3. Monastery of Sankt Demyan

You sat on the Spinning Wheel, off to the corner so you wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, staring at your hands as you tried to ignore the thousands of things bumping around in your mind. You’d been on the run with the Sun Summoner and a smattering of other Grisha for longer than you would have liked, but you had to accept that this was what life would be like until the Darkling was either defeated or destroyed you all. 

It was a damning sort of fate, knowing what awaited you unless the impossible was done. At least it would be quick if the nichevo’ya tore you apart. 

You grimaced. That was one thought that would do you no good—if you’d made it this far, from Os Alta under the Darkling’s control to Os Alta under Lantsov control to the White Cathedral and now to Fjerda of all places, what was one more piece of the puzzle? 

A very big piece of the puzzle, of course, and there was still the intrinsic distrust that some soldiers—and even Alina at moments, flickers of it you could see in her eyes against her will—had towards you. You, like the rest of the Grisha here that hailed from the Second Army, served the Darkling until you’d switched sides. You wanted nothing more than to see the Darkling to his grave, for Ravka to be restored and for all of this to be over. 

But you had switched sides in the first place, and you knew enough from the looks of those soldiers—they still believed that if you could betray the Darkling, you could always still betray the Sun Summoner if given enough cause. 

You didn’t try to dissuade their views through words; it wouldn’t do any good. You just hoped the long hours you spent holed up in the infirmary healing the injured would. You missed Maxim if only so you wouldn’t have to do it all alone. 

“Vlachka for your thoughts?” 

You looked up, surprised to see Nikolai Lantsov of all people. You hadn’t held a true conversation with him since you healed him after his bullet wound. He’d been busy with princely things like banishing his parents and saving Genya’s livelihood. 

You were thankful for that, at least. She’d suffered too much at the hands of the Darkling and the King. 

“You’d need a lot more than that,” you said. 

He smiled. “I’ve got quite a bit. Have you seen this place?” 

You chuckled and shrugged. “Just thinking. About our next move, about the Darkling, about what will be after this.” 

“You certainly aren’t the only one,” Nikolai said. “Lately it seems to be all anyone can think about.”

“I’m sure you’d much rather have them thinking of you,” you said wryly. 

“Oh, there’s plenty of that going on as well.” Nikolai smiled. “An even balance, I’d say.”

You chuckled again. “What brings you here, Nikolai?” 

He shrugged. “I wanted to get to know my Healer.” 

You huffed a sigh and looked away. “Why do you call me that?” 

He was awfully good at feigning innocence. “Call you what?” 

“My Healer,” you repeated. “Your Healer. I don’t understand it.” 

“I like the sound of it,” he said. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.” 

You felt your cheeks heat and you felt his eyes on you. “It’s not that. It’s just—” 

“Because I can,” he continued. “Would you prefer lapushka? Milaya? Perhaps babya.”

You scowled as you turned back to him, and you hit him lightly on the shoulder. “You should stick to the seas and the throne, moi tsarevich. Comedy is not your strong suit.” 

“I like it when you call me that,” he mused. “I like your accent, your voice.” He sat down next to you, mildly unexpected, and you hoped you did better at hiding your surprise than it felt. “There’s something soothing about it.” 

“I am from Ketterdam,” you said after a moment. “You guessed right. Born and raised. When my abilities started showing, my parents put me on a ship to Ravka with a map, some vlachki, and the clothes on my back. I made my way to the Little Palace, pleaded my case to the Darkling, and I haven’t seen them since.”

Nikolai was silent, and you fully turned to look at him. “You wanted to know more about me. That’s who I am. A girl from Ketterdam in over her head.”

“Give yourself some credit,” Nikolai said. “You’re a woman from Ketterdam in over your head.” 

You huffed a laugh, and Nikolai’s expression softened a bit. “Why did they send you away? If that’s alright to ask, of course.” 

You shrugged. “Being a young girl in the Barrel is bad enough. If anyone figured out I was Grisha, I would either be dead in the streets, indentured before I could blink, or worse.”  

“They thought it would be safer in Ravka,” he guessed. “In the Second Army.” 

You nodded. “They couldn’t have known any of this would happen,” you said dryly. 

“Do you miss your parents?” he asked. 

“Every day,” you said quietly. “We sent letters when we could, but it was never enough. And those stopped after Alina left the Little Palace, obviously.” 

You didn’t need to recount the months of the Darkling’s madness as he searched for his Sun Summoner. Nikolai might have been Sturmhond at the time, but you didn’t doubt that he had contacts in the Little Palace. You didn’t exactly want to remember it either. 

“How about this?” Nikolai adjusted his position so he could look right at you, those smart hazel eyes enough to get lost in. You forced yourself not to. “On the slim chance that we make it through these next few weeks, when the dust has settled and I’m officially King, I’ll charter a ship for you back to Ketterdam.” 

Your head whirled back to look at him, eyes widening. There was no sign in his eyes of a false promise, only that soft smile, charming as ever. You had the sudden, misplaced urge to wind your fingers into those blonde curls and kiss him. 

“You’d do that for me?” 

He nodded. “Of course. Only the best for my Healer, right?” 

That got a laugh out of you, but the heat rose to your cheeks all the same. “That would be incredible, Nikolai. Thank you.” 

“Of course.” 

He looked—gazed— at you for a touch longer than usual before he spoke again. 

“There’s going to be a meteor shower later tonight,” Nikolai said. “One of my crew figured it out—he’s very fond of the sky, and he told me it would be… quite the sight.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. Was he—

“I’d like to watch it with you,” Nikolai continued. “Of course, I have to put on a display with Alina, but after that,” he looked over at you, hazel eyes gleaming, “I’d like to spend the night with you.” 

It took a moment for your brain to fully process his words. “Moi tsarevich, are… you asking me on a— a date?” 

“Just Nikolai, please,” he said with a grin. “And yes, I am.” 

It seemed so trivial in the scheme of things. You were leading an impossible battle against the Darkling, and as a traitor to his throne, you would end up dead or worse if he caught you. The near entirety of the Second Army was dead, friends you’d grown up and honed your power alongside with ripped apart by nichevo’ya. Your chances for victory relied on the firebird, and no one knew a damn thing about it. 

It was trivial. It was frankly ridiculous, for the prince— the King of Ravka—to be asking you on a date, especially when it was imperative for him to present a certain image with Alina. 

But for all the triviality and ridiculousness and idiocy, you found that you’d never wanted to accept something so badly. 

So you did. You nodded, smiled, brighter than usual. Nikolai seemed to have that effect on you. 

“I’d love to.” 

“Wonderful.” Somehow, impossibly, his grin grew bigger. Nikolai took your hand and pressed a delicate kiss to it before he stood back up—you’d never been so thankful for his confidence, because you found yourself at a loss for words. “I’ll see you tonight, darling. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.” 

You nodded again, and you knew you looked like a dazed idiot. The better half of a decade spent training as a Grisha and all it took was a kiss to your hand for your brain to stop working. You really had been at war for far too long. 

Nikolai could tell every thought—or lack thereof—in your head by the overly pleased expression he wore as he walked away, and your entire face burned as you bit back your smile. 

He knew exactly what he did to you. 

4. The Bittern 

Sergei sold you out. 

That son of bitch had betrayed you all to the Darkling the first chance he got, and he’d been rewarded with a quicker death than any of you would get. 

You’d been left fighting for your lives against the Darkling’s oprichniki, Grisha, and nichevo’ya alike, and as usual, you were hopelessly outnumbered. You knelt over Adrik as Zoya, Nadia, Harshaw, and David kept the crowd of enemies back, doing your damnedest to keep him from bleeding out from his nichevo’ya bite. 

His arm hung at a bizarre angle, and you didn’t know how you would tell him and his sister you didn’t think you could save it. You were sure Genya’s whispered words were the only thing keeping him even slightly calm.

By the time the Bittern was in the air, precarious but afloat, you were about ready to collapse. It had all been too damn much, with the Darkling and Baghra and Nevsky, and now the poor schoolboy lying beneath you with an arm you couldn’t save. 

“He’ll be okay,” you murmured to nobody but yourself, wiping beads of sweat from your forehead as you laid against the side of the ship. As okay as any boy who lost his arm to a shadow monster and went through what he just did. 

Thank the Saints for Tolya keeping both Adrik’s and your heart steady during that ordeal, because you were sure your panic would have won over. 

Everyone in your motley crew was injured in some way or another, and you were the only Healer. Soon you were back on your feet, pushing the horrors of the night out of your mind as you mended lacerations and fixed up bullet wounds. 

Every so often, your eyes would drift over to Adrik. You’d healed him the best you could, but it wasn’t enough. 

And then your mind went to Nikolai. 

Nikolai. 

In the chaos of the battle and the subsequent healing haze, you hadn’t even realized he wasn’t with your group. The Pelican had taken off before you all got to the Bittern, but Nikolai wouldn’t have left Alina on her own after all he’d done to ensure her safety. 

You were almost too scared to ask, but you did anyway. 

“Alina,” you asked, slightly surprised at the sound of your voice in the silence of the night, “where’s Nikolai?” 

Her eyes were unfocused, arms crossed around her midsection for warmth despite the light that glowed beneath her skin. “The Darkling,” she murmured. 

“Wh— what did he do to him?” you continued. “What in the Saints’ name happened to him, Alina?” 

“He ruined him,” she whispered. “He turned him into a monster.” The look on Alina’s face broke you into even smaller pieces. “He turned him into a monster all because Nikolai dared to stand against him. He’s gone.” 

Your grip tightened on the side of the ship as she explained what she had to watch, and your knees threatened to buckle. 

Maybe it was stupid, but you hadn’t even realized you cared this much about the prince. The king, you had to keep reminding yourself. But the thought of him hurt—a hurt that you couldn’t heal—it tore your heart to shreds. 

Only last night you were laying on a blanket next to him, staring up at the meteor shower through the glass dome. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did then, with the streaks of light illuminating his handsome features and those hazel eyes you’d grown to appreciate. 

Few words had passed between the two of you, but once Nikolai had taken your hand in his, neither of you let go for the remainder of the night. That urge to kiss him came back in spades, but you never acted on it. 

Saints, you wished you had. 

“Do you think you can heal him?” Your voice sounded oddly foreign, but you didn’t even feel like you were in your body. Like you were watching it all happen from above, because this couldn’t have been happening. Not to Nikolai— to your Nikolai. 

You were his Healer, and he was your Nikolai. That was how it was supposed to be. 

“I don’t know,” Alina admitted, her tone strained. “My light might be able to help, but… but whenever I’ve used it against the nichevo’ya, against the volcra, I— it kills them.” 

Her voice broke on the last few words, and you wanted to hug her. Alina didn’t love him, you knew that much, but anyone could tell she’d grown close to Nikolai over the months. She was hurting just as much as you. 

You didn’t. You found that you couldn’t do much but stare into the night sky.

He was all alone. Forced into a monster, and now he was all alone. 

It felt like ages before the Bittern finally landed, everyone’s teeth stained rust-orange and bones run deep with exhaustion. Everyone was still alive when you woke up the next morning, and after another check-up on Adrik, you went off into the woods under the guise of searching for kindling. 

Really, you needed some time to yourself. After what had happened—Sergei’s betrayal, losing even more Grisha when you had little to start with, Baghra’s sacrifice, Adrik and his arm, and— and Nikolai—

It was too much. It was just too damn much. 

You’d never gotten close like this to anyone before, never moved further than some useless flirtations and a few stolen kisses with various Grisha when you were bored back at the Little Palace, and when you finally did, with the damned future King of Ravka, this is what happened. 

Guilt tore away at you as you plodded through the woods, and you let the tears you’d been holding back all night fall. You wished you’d been there for him. You wished you’d kissed him. You wished you were strong enough to take the Darkling down on your own for what he’d done. 

The hairs stood up on the back of your neck, and you heard the rustling of branches. You whirled around to the source of the sound, taking a few steps to peer through the trees, and that was when you saw it. 

Your eyes widened and your heart cracked all at once. 

“Nikolai,” you whispered. 

You’d have recognized him anywhere. Despite the shadowy veins splintering across his chest, the wings furled behind his back, claws and fangs in place of fingers and teeth—he was still your Nikolai. His blonde curls remained, his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, even his clever eyes—even if they were black instead of hazel. 

The smear of blood around his mouth was a sharp contrast to it all. You wondered what—or who—had become his unlucky victim when he could no longer control his hunger. 

Nikolai didn’t move as you stepped closer. His dark gaze was unreadable and you wanted to sob for what the Darkling had done to him. 

“It’s me.” You continued to speak softly as you moved closer, saying your name in hopes of even a spark of recognition. “Your Healer.” 

His eyes followed your movements, his gaze falling down to your hands. He pointed at them with a clawed talon.

You held them up. “My hands?” 

You realized the blood around his mouth wasn’t the only bit of it on his body as your eyes trailed across his bare chest. There were cuts all across his arms and chest, most small but some deeper. He pointed at a thin scar near his abdomen, the only sign of the bullet wound you’d stitched up. 

He wanted you to heal him. He knew who you were. 

This time, a small sob escaped you, and your hand flew up almost on instinct to cover it. You brushed the tears brimming in your eyes as you moved closer to him, and you gently placed your hand on his arm. You felt his limb stiffen for a moment before they relaxed, and you couldn’t help your small smile. Your Nikolai was still there. 

The thin cut vanished as you healed it, and you continued to do the same for the myriad of other injuries on his body. You felt his gaze on you the entire time, and some part of it was comforting. Nikolai was still there—his humanity was still there. This was the least you could do to make him feel the part. 

Once you’d healed up the last of his wounds, you felt the glow of Grisha power inside of you. Nikolai grabbed onto your hand the moment you’d finished, and you looked up into his dark eyes as your fingers clasped around his talons.

“We’ll figure this out, Nikolai,” you whispered. “I promise.”

The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, the barest sign of the old smile you’d grown to love.

And then he let go of your hand, and he shot up into the air. It took only seconds for him to disappear, but your gaze remained stuck in place. 

All you could think of was Nikolai’s dark eyes and the shattered shadows beneath his skin, the feel of his taloned hand in yours.  

You would find a way to bring him back. You knew that much. 

5. The Shadow Fold 

“For Saint’s sake— catch him, Zoya!” 

“You screeching at me isn’t helping,” she snarled, her hands held out above her as she summoned wind to break Nikolai’s fall. 

It was almost laughable, how Alina ended it all with a bit of stabbing. First Mal, then the Darkling—now Soldat Sol and oprichniki alike were glowing like human lamps around the Fold. The nichevo’ya dissolved with the Darkling’s power, the same thing that created Nikolai’s monster—you screamed in general when you first saw him falling, and then you screamed at Zoya. It was a credit to her growth that she didn’t slap you first. 

Thankfully, the updraft did its job, and he only landed in the sand at concerning speeds rather than very concerning. 

You ran for him without thinking, not even feeling the jolt in your ankles as you lept from the skiff onto the sands. You no longer had to fear the Fold—the various Sun Soldiers that had gotten Alina’s powers had done away with the remainder in no time—and even if you did, you would brave a thousand volcra for Nikolai. 

He looked so small, so vulnerable laying there in the sand, only clad in torn pants and a myriad of bruises. The last of the shadows receded when you finally reached him, and you didn’t try to stop the tears as they flowed freely down your cheeks. 

“Nikolai,” you whispered, falling to your knees in the sand next to him, “Nikolai, can you hear me?” 

You cradled his head in your hands, tears splattering in the sand around you, and then his eyes opened. 

His beautiful hazel eyes opened and looked right at you, his lips tugging into a smirk as he said your name. 

“Would you say this is an important princely thing?” His voice was husky, damaged from whatever dark thing that had taken a hold of him, but the usual lilt was there. “Or just another injury?” 

You broke into full on sobs, unabashedly and unashamed as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. You felt his arms around you as well, and he rubbed circles on your back. 

“I had time to think,” Nikolai murmured, “and I think I’ll settle on lapushka.” 

Darling. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, and you moved away from him just so you could look at him, gaze at him, never forget his beautiful features. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

“I knew I would be,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I had you looking out for me.” 

“Stop,” you said, your voice watery. “I can’t keep crying in front of you.” 

“I think you’ve more than earned it, lapushka.” 

You laughed again as you shook your head. “How do you feel? Can you still move all your limbs?” 

Nikolai took his hand in yours, fingers intertwining with yours. His gaze didn’t move from you. “Limbs are fine.” 

You let your smile shine unabashed as you squeezed his hand, thankful for the lack of talons. “Can you sit up?” 

Nikolai visibly winced at the effort, but he managed with your help. “My chest hurts quite a bit.” 

“You’ve definitely broken some ribs,” you murmured, “but it’s nothing I can’t fix up.” 

“There’s nothing you can’t fix,” Nikolai said. 

“Careful with all the praise. I might get used to it.” 

“Good.” 

You glanced over to see Tolya and Zoya moving across the sand towards you and you looked back at Nikolai. 

“We’re going to get you back on the skiff, Nikolai,” you said. “I’ll get you healed up and then we’ll get you some clothes. Alright?” 

“I told you,” Nikolai said, “this is your reward for putting up with the irritating prince.” 

“That was for the prince,” you said, running a hand through his blonde curls to untangle them. “My reward for putting up with irritating kings is to make sure they’re clothed and healed.” 

His smile shone brighter than anything Alina could conjure up. 

The Darkling’s Skiff 

You ended up below deck with Nikolai, Tolya, an unconscious Alina and Mal, and the Darkling’s body. It normally wouldn’t have been a cheery atmosphere, but you were just thankful to be alive after all you’d done. Thankful that Nikolai was alive and himself and that the Darkling was dead. 

A First Army uniform was folded next to Nikolai’s makeshift cot where you sat next to him, and Tolya’s companionable silence was appreciated as he stayed by Alina and Mal to ensure they stayed alive. 

“You broke a few ribs in your fall,” you murmured, your hands placed on his chest, “but overall, I’d say you made out pretty well.” 

“Yes,” Nikolai said wryly, looking at his hands. Faint black lines ran across each of his fingers, where claws had torn through his skin. Though the other shadowy marks had faded, these appeared to be permanent. “Pretty well.” 

“You know what I mean, Nikolai.” You moved your hand over his ribs and focused your power—by the slight grimace on his face, the itch that came along with Grisha healing, you knew they were mending back together. “You’re still alive. You’re you again. That means everything.” 

“And your hands are still freakishly cold,” he mused. You smiled. 

A moment passed before he spoke again. 

“You know,” Nikolai said, and you felt his eyes on you again, “I remember everything. Everything that I did when I was that… that thing.” 

Your throat bobbed, but you nodded, encouraging him on. 

“I went to you,” he said, “and… you helped me. You weren’t afraid—you understood what I meant, and you healed me.” 

“Of course I did,” you said softly. A smile tugged at your lips. “I am your Healer, after all.” 

Nikolai placed his hand over one of yours, and your power wavered for a moment as your heart stuttered. 

“One of your ribs is still broken, Nikolai,” you said. “I have to—” 

“I love you,” he interrupted. Your eyes snapped to him, and you thought you misheard him. 

“What?” 

“I love you,” he repeated, as if it came as easily to him as breathing. “Forgive me for the lack of ballads and sonnets on how to express it—I plan to remedy that as soon as we’re back in Os Alta. But I love you, and it’s the one thing I’m sure of at this moment.” 

You continued to stare at him, as if you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. Nikolai was no Corporalnik, but you were sure he could hear how loudly your heart was beating. 

“It’s alright if you don’t feel the same,” Nikolai said, “or if you’re not ready. I’m a very patient man.” 

It was like your limbs had suddenly regained the ability to move, because something clicked in your mind. You took his face in your hands and you kissed him with a brazen fierceness you didn’t even know you had. 

For a man with two bruised ribs and one broken one, he kissed you back with the same intensity, if not more. You poured all your fear, all your anxiety, all your worries about him into the kiss, reveling in the warmth of his lips and his hands and—

Tolya cleared his throat. “We’re nearly out of the Fold.” 

You pulled away as quickly as it had started, Nikolai looking very pleased with himself as you fixed the collar of your kefta and looked over at him with eyes that were surely more pupil than iris. 

“Thank you, Tolya,” you said, and you cleared your throat as well. Good of him to ignore the two of you. Embarrassing of you to nearly forget about your surroundings when you looked at Nikolai. 

“Yes,” Nikolai said, mirth in his voice, “thank you, Tolya.”

You rolled your eyes as you turned back to him, your lips still burning from his kiss, and you settled your hands back on Nikolai’s chest. 

“No more interruptions,” you said. “I’ve got to get you healed and dressed before we’re off the sand.” 

His eyes twinkled. “Whatever you say, lapushka.” 

You had no idea what was next. The Sun Summoner died on the Fold, the Darkling’s reign of terror was finally over, and Nikolai was to be King. You didn’t know where you would fit in, though you were sure he would find a place. 

But you loved Nikolai, and by the Saints, Nikolai loved you. 

And for now, that was more than enough. 

[madockisser]

thought dump on new tfota book:

i think the reason that there’s going to be another jurdan book (supposedly) is mostly because Jude and cardan both have very unfinished stories.

you know that deleted scene at the end of qon where Jude and cardan are all sweet laying on the grass together? it was cut for a reason, and replaced w the epilogue in the mortal world.

In that epilogue, Jude herself hopes in her head that cardan won’t lash out at any humans. i always hated that part in her monologue, because it shows that Jude still doesn’t even really know the man before her.

it’s bittersweet that in their time outside of the series after qon, that maybe Jude learned why cardan wouldn’t lash out at humans. or maybe she’s yet to learn it in the new book.

but while i feel like there’s potential for them to do more, not just politically but with their relationship, some things are better left unsaid.

also, i don’t see the series being very romantically focused on Jurdan, only because miss black hasn’t really done that when it comes to her folk of the air series before. it’ll def be more politically driven.

i dreaded the publishing of the stolen heir and the prisoners throne because i worried that it would ruin Jude and cardan for me, and while that wasn’t the case, i still found myself unsatisfied with their story and how the entire family doesn’t really know each other.

don’t get me wrong, i do love family drama, but at the same time, Jude and cardan and oak and vivienne and Taryn have all endured so much trauma, I’d die for them to just be happy.

i assume the political problem will be the one i vaguely remember from the prisoners throne, the croin guy who hates orlagh and nicasia (can we blame him) and his evil sea buddies who attacked that ship oak and suren were on

Anyway i def think madocs dying in the next books, since it’s undersea based, and he had the queen of the undersea shot and whatnot, and while the ghost payed the price for that (sorta but not intentionally) i still think madoc is kicking the bucket.

Someone important is gonna die and i dread it.

on a lighter note, i really wish that miss black would pick up some of her older characters, not just for cameos. (Not gonna happen but i can HOPE)

i want to see Ben and severin, corny and Luis, Kaye and roiben, Val and ravus and their cute little troll babies. i want more info on the greenbriar line, on Val moren, on Locke even, his parents, on Jude’s parents, oriana, grima mog, anyone.

I’d especially like to see oriana and madoc finally have a relationship that isn’t based on obligation, one where there isn’t cute little Oakey pokey to take care of now that he’s grown. especially if it’s like scraps, like random interactions they have from someone else’s pov (idk i just think that’s so cute)

Lastly, all the hate im seeing abt jurdan potentially being the main focus for the next book is halfway understandable but also pretty sucky, as if oak and suren didn’t have their own duology after tcp trilogy. i can understand ofc not wanting them to be the main focus but slandering miss black over it is just rude, let her lock in and create another beautifully written fantasy world with complex characters.

also we know pretty much nothing. what the author said doesn’t even automatically confirm it’s going to be a jurdan book, but conclusions have already been jumped to and half the fandom is super excited and the other half hates the thought of jurdan getting another story.

edit for whoever sent that ask: of course it’s fine to not want them to be the center of the book! i agree, but yknow what they say: “you get what you get and you don’t get upset!” so maybe let’s not say mean things abt the author because that’s not very nice, if you’re gonna criticize, criticize the work and not the creator?

anyway idk i have 0 motivation to post anything decent hence why i haven’t posted an analysis in about 162948392 years only because I’m basing it on my reread and that’s going super poorly bc I’m taking a torturous precalc class

[medievalandfantasymelee]

COME ONE, COME ALL to the MOSTE ILLUSTRIOUS TOURNAMENT of the FINEST, the MOSTE PUISSANT and HOTTEST MEN MEDIEVAL MEDIA HAS TO ITS CREDIT.

Be it known that we shall accept submissions of the hottest men OF THE PEOPLES’ CHOOSING from any live-action* TV or movie media property set between the years AD 500 – 1550 (Tudors WELCOME!!), and any fantasy properties which emulate said period!

KNOW ALSO that we, by the grace of this fine hellsite and with the counsel of the moste honorable and illustrious @hotvintagepoll (many thanks), have made

THESE GUIDELINES here given:

ANY HOT GUY who appears in any movie or TV show released in ANY YEAR, from ANY COUNTRY, shall be deemed eligible for entry. Below are listed examples of eligible properties. If YE BE NOT CERTAIN whether your hot guy is eligible, submit him anyway!

Examples of Eligible Properties: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-03), Game of Thrones (2011-19) House of the Dragon (2022), Wolf Hall (2015-2024), The Tudors (2007-2010), Ladyhawke (1985), The Princess Bride (1987), The White Queen (2013), Rise of Empires: Ottoman (2020-2022), Vikings (2013-2020), The Last Kingdom (2015-2022), Diriliş: Ertuğrul (2014), A Knight’s Tale (2001), BBC’s Robin Hood (2006-3009), The Last Duel (2021), The Story of Minglan (2018), The Borgias (2013), Robin Hood (1939), Outlaw King (2018), Pilgrimage (2017), Legend (1985), Braveheart (1995), The Green Knight (2021), Excalibur (1981), Beowulf & Grendel (2005), The Lion in Winter (1968), Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993), The Black Adder (Blackadder Series 1, 1982), Rashomon (1950)

Remember: This is just a list of examples—WOW ME!

These following titles are examples of properties that do not fall within or emulate the stated time period and therefore DO NOT QUALIFY: The Three Musketeers (Any Version), Pirates of the Caribbean (2004), Barbarians (2020), Gladiator (2000), Ben Hur (1959), Shogun (2024), Elizabeth (1999), 300 (2006), Troy (2004), Xena: Warrior Princess (1995-2001), Disney's Robin Hood (1973)**, Yojimbo (1961), Shakespeare in Love (1998), King Arthur (2004)***

For the purposes of this tournament, "Man" and "Guy" are defined as any bi-pedal humanoid male character played by a man. As such, characters belonging to non-human races such as Hobbits, Orcs, Elves, Demons, Fauns, Werewolves etc. ARE admissible, and, indeed, encouraged.

If you have propaganda you forgot to include in your submission, just hold onto it and send it in an ask after the Tournament begins.

You may submit as many hot men as you like but please submit only ONE ENTRANT per submission.

Do not hesitate to submit ANY hot guy you think may qualify, no matter how popular he is. There is no such thing as a shoo-in with these tournaments. If you think "Someone MUST have submitted him already!" Everyone else is probably thinking that too and then he may well NEVER get submitted and we don't want that.

Do not worry about how many submissions your hot guy might have had already--I need to get a sense of who the strongest contenders are in order to fairly seed the draws, and the best way to do that is volume of submissions.

We are voting on the hotness of the characters. While the actors who portray them are of course a major factor in this, we are not voting on the actors themselves, therefore propaganda pertaining to the actors real lives (aside from anecdotes relating to their portrayal of the character) is not admissible.

By that same token, in the case of historical figures (e.g. Henry VIII) we are judging hotness based on the fictionalized portrayals of them in these properties, not on historical fact.

Regarding immortal/time-travelling/dimension-hopping/extremely long-lived characters, regardless of when the character was born, the main action**** of the story must take place within the Medieval Period (see dates listed at the top of this post) or Medieval-esque fantasy fantasy realm in order for them to be eligible for submission. As such, characters like the Pevensie brothers (The Chronicles of Narnia) and Ash Williams (Army of Darkness) are admissible, but Asgardians (the MCU Thor films) are not.

I, as the Administrator and Master of Revels of this tournament, am exercising discretion in the admittance of characters from works by Shakespeare, since many of them have no set date.

Re: characters adapted from books/written works - Book quotes by/ about your character are not admissible as Propaganda for their tv/ movie counterparts unless said quotes were also written into the show/movie.

Book illustrations and fanart are not admissible Propaganda

SUBMISSIONS SHALL REMAIN OPEN UNTIL MIDNIGHT, JULY 1st

The Tourney shall begin at a date yet to be determined with the Melee (Qualifying Rounds), wherein the entrants with the fewest submissions and least propaganda will duke it out in a free for all brawl to determine who will enter the Lists.

SUBMIT YOUR ENTRANTS HERE TODAY!!!

-- Master of Revels

*The "live-action" qualification does have a caveat: exception may be made for those CGI films which were all the rage in the mid-00's that used the motion-capture and likeness of the actors; for example characters from, Robert Zemeckis's Beowulf (2007) are admissible.

** this one doesn't qualify, not because it isn't the right time period, but because it falls solidly under the "Animated" category.

***Yes, sadly we are deprived of the beautiful countenances of Clive Owen, Mads Mikkelsen, Ioan Gruffudd et al because the producers of this film in their infinite wisdom and in an attempt to seem "more historically accurate" chose to set it during the Roman withdrawal from Britain, which occurred in the 5th Century (About a CENTURY earlier than Authurian tradition) and is generally agreed to have ended by AD 410. It therefore does not fall under the Medieval umbrella and is not eligible for submission.

**** "Main Action" here defined as "More than half an hour of a movie and more than two episodes of a series"

[wingedblooms]

Blooming with life

@offtorivendell and I were chatting about the cover for the next book and while there are several options for what might be depicted on the cover, the one that makes the most sense to me (and makes us scream) is the Cauldron (blooming with life, vines and flowers and creatures spilling from its iron lip). It hasn’t been used on a cover yet, and assuming Sarah will continue with one romantic pairing per book, it would align perfectly with what Elain and Azriel’s story would contribute to the overarching plot.

Let me preface this by saying that I do think the three Archeron sisters embody (or are vessels) for the three faces of the Mother, and they will likely need to come together at some point in this storyline (the dream). But if anyone’s story is connected to a force that once bloomed with life, and is tasked with uncovering its secrets to help it and the land bloom again, it’s Elain. The quiet, gentle gardener who glows like the dawn and smells like a promise of spring. She might even be able to use the language of creation to (re)write her own fate. It doesn’t seem coincidental that Azriel has been present or connected to Elain’s major moments involving the Cauldron (her forced rebirth, naming her powers, questioning the mating bond, using TT to rescue her family, being forbidden from going near the Cauldron, etc.). Their story is tied to the Cauldron and what we’ve learned about it (from the original trilogy to the spin-off books to the crossover). Sarah has left hints that it is still important, in general, and specifically in Elain’s journey with Azriel:

acotar

Feyre gives us our first glimpse of the Cauldron from the living (Spring Court):

I found myself overlooking a rose garden, filled with dozens of hues of crimson and pink and white and yellow.

I might have allowed myself a moment to take in the colors, gleaming with dew under the morning sun, had I not glimpsed the painting that stretched along the wall beside the windows.

[…]

At first I could do nothing but stare at its size, the ambition of it, at the fact that this masterpiece was tucked back here for no one to ever see, as if it was nothing—absolutely nothing—to create something like this.

It told a story with the way colors and shapes and light flowed, the way the tone shifted across the mural. The story of…of Prythian.

It began with a cauldron.

A mighty black cauldron held by glowing, slender female hands in a starry, endless night. Those hands tipped it over, golden sparkling liquid pouring out over the lip. No—not sparkling, but…effervescent with small symbols, perhaps of some ancient faerie language. Whatever was written there, whatever it was, the contents of the cauldron were dumped into the void below, pooling on the earth to form our world…(acotar)

acomaf

Elain emerges from the Cauldron. It tips onto its side by itself, as if influenced by an unseen force. Elain rises from the floor, like the earth in the mural, glowing with immortal light and beauty.

And as if it had been tipped by invisible hands, the Cauldron turned on its side. More water than seemed possible dumped out in a cascade. Black, smoke-coated water.

And Elain, as if she’d been thrown by a wave, washed onto the stones facedown.

Her legs were so pale—so delicate. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen them bare. The queens pushed forward. Alive, she had to be alive, had to have wanted to live—

Elain sucked in a breath, her fine-boned back rising, her wet nightgown nearly sheer.

And as she rose from the ground onto her elbows, the gag in place, as she twisted to look at me—

Nesta began roaring again.

Pale skin started to glow. Her face had somehow become more beautiful—infinitely beautiful, and her ears … Elain’s ears were now pointed beneath her sodden hair. (acomaf)

acowar

After Elain was Made in the Cauldron, Azriel is the one to name her power, freeing her from a murky realm where dream and reality entwine:

“A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” (acowar)

Feyre wonders about Elain’s new, inner sight and how it might be connected to the Cauldron.

Elain had been told—by Amren. She now sat at the table, more straight-backed and clear-eyed than I’d seen her. Had she beheld this, in whatever wanderings that new, inner sight granted her? Had the Cauldron whispered of it while we’d been away? I hadn’t the heart to ask her. (acowar)

Feyre questions the mating bond system, wondering why Azriel and Elain aren’t mates and who determines it.

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?”

“I’d keep that question from Lucien.”

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?”

Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies…”

Azriel is the first to notice Elain’s absence and risks his life to get her back, inspiring Feyre to join him.

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.”

Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s eyes glowed golden in the shadows.

Nesta said, “Then you will die.”

Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

With the shadows, he might stand a chance of slipping in. But there were wards to consider, and ancient magic, and the king with those spells and the Cauldron…(acowar)

Armed with Truth-Teller, the blade Azriel gifted to her for the battle, Elain—rather than the Cauldron—answered Feyre’s pleas, somehow appearing just in time to deal Hybern a killing blow.

For a moment, I thought the Cauldron had answered my pleas.

But as a black blade broke through the king’s throat, spraying blood, I realized someone else had.

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.” (acowar)

While connected to it through a living link, Feyre learns that the Cauldron adores Elain, gave her such powers (plural, baby), and would not harm her.

The Cauldron seemed to realize what she’d done, too, as his head thumped onto the mossy ground. That Elain…Elain had defended this thief. Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something…It would not harm Elain, even in its hunt to reclaim what had been taken. (acowar)

Both Elain and the Cauldron are described as blooms in bleak and barren settings, which seems to be a hint of their intertwined role/power that is reinforced in the spin-offs and crossover.

She was a rose bloom in a mud field…[…] If Elain was a blooming flower in this army camp, then Nesta, she was a freshly forged sword, waiting to draw blood. (acowar)

-

The Cauldron shattered into three pieces, peeling apart like a blossoming flower (acowar)

acosf

Cassian reminds us that the Cauldron is hidden (and supposedly asleep) in Cretea, worrying that no one could control it if it awoke.

A chill skittered down Cassian’s spine. He trusted the Seraphim Prince and the half-human woman to keep the Cauldron concealed, but there would be nothing they or anyone could do to control its power if awoken. (acosf)

Nesta reminds us of the time the Cauldron stole Elain and its song called only to her:

Elain had been stolen by the Cauldron and saved by Azriel and Feyre. Yet the two terror still gripped Nesta, waking and asleep: the memory of how it had felt in those moments after hearing the Cauldron’s seductive call and realizing it had been for Elain, not for her or Feyre. How it had felt to find Elain’s tent empty, to see that blue cloak discarded. (acosf)

The Inner Circle discusses the Cauldron-Made Trove, and Feyre and Amren remind us that like calls to like, which is why the sisters can help find them.

“What does it have to do with the Cauldron?” Nesta pushed.

“Like calls to like,” Feyre murmured, looking to Amren, who nodded. “Because the Trove was Made by the Cauldron, so might the Trove find its Maker.” (acosf)

Elain offers to find the Trove when Nesta admits to her fears, and Nesta forbids her from going anywhere near the Cauldron.

Amren said, “You tracked the Cauldron—”

“It nearly killed me. It trapped me like a bird in a cage.”

Elain said, “Then I will find it. I might require some time to…reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.”

“Absolutely not,” Nesta spat, fingers curling at her sides. “Absolutely not.”

“Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways.o You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“Then go off on adventures,” Nesta said. “Go drink and fuck strangers. But stay away from the Cauldron.”

Feyre said, “It’s Elain’s choice, Nesta.” (acosf)

Nesta gives us a glimpse of the dusk service where priestesses worship the Mother and the Cauldron and the Forces That Be (Fate). A sacred, possibly interchangeable trio, which is deeply connected to creation and the earth:

The music was pure, ancient, by turns whispering and bold, one moment like a tendril of mist, the next like a gilded ray of light. It finished, and Merrill spoke about the Mother and the Cauldron and the land and sun and water. She spoke of blessings and dreams and hope. Of mercy and love and growth. (acosf)

Nesta finds the carved rose Papa Archeron made for Elain and places it next to a figurine of a primordial goddess:

She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.”

-

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. (acosf)

Nesta makes a bargain with the Cauldron, so it is at least somewhat awake and seems to be influenced by, or working alongside, a luminescent hand (maybe a gentle gardener’s hand?) that intervenes on Nesta’s behalf.

And as it faded, dark ink splashed upon Nesta’s back, visible through her half-shredded shirt, as if it were a wave crashing upon the shore.

A bargain with the Cauldron itself.

Yet Cassian could have sworn a luminescent, gentle hand prevented the light from leaving her body altogether. (acosf)

After their almost-kiss on solstice, Azriel dares to question the Cauldron, which he appears to revere.

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

Rhysand blinked. “What of Mor, Az?”

Azriel ignored the question. “The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.” He had never before dared speak the words aloud.

hofas

In the crossover, we learn more of the Cauldron’s history. Life once blossomed from it, but—as if echoing Azriel’s question to Rhys—it was warped by the Daglan (Asteri).

“The Cauldron,” Azriel amended. Bryce shook her head, not understanding. “You don’t have stories of it in your world? The Fae didn’t bring that tradition with them?”

Bryce surveyed the giant cauldron. “No. We have five gods, but no cauldron. What does it do?”

“All life came and comes from it,” Azriel said with something like reverence. “The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed.” (hofas)

-

The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced … those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage. (hofas)

The Under-King leaves us with a look at the Cauldron from the dead. It was misconstrued as a goddess over time, explaining interconnected, if not interchangeable, terms (Mother, Cauldron, Fate/Forces That Be), but she is a force and her name is Wyrd.

The Under-King lounged on a throne beneath a behemoth statue of a figure holding a black metal bowl between her upraised hands. Symbols were carved all over the bowl, continuing down her fingers, her arms, her body. Ithan could only assume it was meant to represent Urd. No other temples ever depicted the goddess, no one even dared—most people claimed that fate was impossible to portray in any one form. But it seemed that the dead, unlike the living, had a vision of her. And those symbols running from the bowl onto her skin … they were like tattoos.

[…]

“And she,” the Under-King went on, gesturing to that unusual depiction of Urd towering above him, “was not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation. Urd, they call her here—a bastardized version of her true name. Wyrd, we called her in that old world.” (hofas)

Tags: @elriel-month 💕

What do you think will be on the cover, friends? Do you agree it might be the Cauldron, or will it be something else, like the Harp or even…a Pegasus?! Ramiel?

[livefromcastledracula]

Book Carmilla vs Adaptations (SPOILERS)

Here are a few 'interesting' adaptations. I like some of them for their own merits, but mostly dislike them as Carmilla adaptations for the below reasons, with some notable exceptions: Vampyr: The Dream of Allan Gray (1932 film): The first Carmilla inspired movie, although it keeps almost NOTHING from the novella except 'female vampire'. In this case, a creepy old lady rather than a charming young lesbian. This is a really moody, slow, acid trip of a film though, a treat for fans of vintage vampire film. (3/10) Hammer Karnstein Trilogy: The Vampire Lovers is the gayest and most book-accurate. Carmilla still kisses/seduces men before killing them, boo. The second one her identically-named reincarnation is blonde and has sex with / falls in love with a man booooooo. She's not in the third one at all. It's all very 70's and nowhere near queer enough, but at least we got the incomparable Ingrid Pitt in the first movie. 5/10. Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust: 'Carmilla' shows up as a surprise third act villain. She's an elegant and imposing vampire queen with a castle called "Cjethe" and the Vampire King offed her previously for being A Bit Too Extra. She's... Bathory. She's Elizabeth Bathory, right down to the name of her historical castle, the elaborate gowns and the blood-bathing. Bathory in Castlevania Nocturne even looks a lot like this one. Cool scary vampire lady, but Carmilla In Name Only. 4/10 Castlevania (Games): She's fine here, but mostly just kind of a big Dracula groupie like most of the other non-Dracula vampires. Often depicting as a flying skull or mask crying bloody tears, with optional succubus-like figure reclining on top of it. Cool. Rondo of Blood has her appear together with a ninja vampire Laura with bunny ears because why the hell not. 6/10 Castlevania (Netflix show): Baddass, angry Karen. She's amazing in the first season when she's scheming against Dracula, but after that she just sort of sits on her butt sipping wine and griping about men for a whole season until Isaac storms her castle. A cool character but not a great Carmilla, because Carmilla for me is defined by how much she loves women, not how much she hates men. Still amazing voice work by Jaime Murray though and her last stand was insanely baddass. 7/10

Carmilla Web Series / Movie: My favorite adaptation. It's obviously playing waaaay fast and loose with the canon and reframing her as a charming antihero in a zany urban fantasy, but there's deep current of love for the source material, especially in the movie. Natasha Negovanlis has charisma off the charts and the Hollstein romance is adorable. This Carmilla might be a black-leather-wearing snarky millenial goth with a Canadian accent, but as the show goes on it peels back layer after layer of the romantic, poetic, wistful, world-weary immortal hinted at by the novella. This show redeems LeFanu's lovelorn villain in all the best ways. 10/10. 2019 movie / Styria movie: I still haven't seen these, have heard good things about the gothic cinematography on the most recent one but not good things about the rest of it. The trailer looked moody and pretty though, I may watch it at some point.

[backtothefanfiction]

TOWER

PART TWO OF THE GREEN LEAVES TRILOGY

Summary: Follows the story of the Two Towers. You catch up with your friends in time for the battle of Helms Deep.

Word Count 9.5k+

Warnings: battle, violence, injuries, angst, fluff, bad elvish translation

A/N: finally managed to get this one finished. I have not gone back over this with a fine tooth comb (I’ve done enough of that already with my actual book I’m currently editing to have the capacity to do this here) but it should read mostly okay. This has been sat in my head for a while so is nice to get it out. Also I seem to be creating some extra drama with Èomer to set me up for part three but I have no idea how that’s going to pan out yet. Anyway, enjoy!

When you were finally informed of the latest impasse of the Fellowship's journey- the death of Boromir, the separation of Frodo and Samwise- the urgency that had been with you before seemed to increase tenfold.

You continued to travel along the route you had been advised by the wise Elven queen to take, but it seemed harder and harder to track the company of Aragorn, Legolas and their smaller companions. That was until you ran into a group of riders from Rohan.

You had moved off the path, taken shelter behind a series of nearby trees as the thundering sound of hooves made their way towards you. However when you realised who headed up the company, you took your horse by the reins and walked out to meet them. Spotting you, they quickly came to a stop.

“Èomer!” you called out.

“Lady Raea,” he said tentatively from his place atop his horse, “what are you doing out here alone? These lands are not safe, there are Uruk-hai running around all over these hills.”

“I am looking for some friends of mine. I was wondering if they had crossed your path.”

“Perhaps…” he said, but still seemed reluctant to give you a straight answer. You knew Èomer, had travelled with him and his men for a time after you had separated from Aragorn and Legolas the first time around.

“Èomer, please.” you appealed softly to him.

He looked to the horizon to his right as he fought with the thoughts in his mind. “You look for the man, elf and dwarf.” His words still you- that was only three of the company. Where were the hobbits?

“Yes.” you say a little too eagerly. “You have seen them.”

“They rode in search of two of their kin, alas I gave them little hope. The two halflings he described had been taken by a pack of Orc… We slayed that pack the night before we saw them, we had no recollection of the halflings with the pack.” Your heart sank as you understood what he was trying to tell you.

“When was this?” You asked.

“I would say four sunrises back.”

“Do you know where they were headed?”

“Alas my dear lady, no.” You bristled at the term as it fell from his mouth. You both knew you were no lady, not really. “Maybe you can take refuge with my Uncle at Edoras as you wait for news. You can take shelter, rest.”

“Thank you.” You replied with a small nod.

He gave you a small nod in return as he began to turn his horse and lead his men away from you. As you reached for the saddle ready to re-mount your horse, you heard him call back to you. “Raea!” When you turned your head he had halted as his men continued on. “Be safe out there.” He cautioned.

You motioned to the blades attached to your back. “When am I not,” you called back as you lifted yourself back up into the saddle and began to make haste in the direction of King Theodin’s kingdom.

However when you got there, the city was empty, save for a few reluctant stragglers. “Where is everybody? Where is the King?” you asked an elderly gentleman mucking out a seemingly empty stable.

“They all rode for Helm’s Deep my Lady.” he informed you.

“When?” you commanded from atop your horse.

“Day before last.” he informed you. “A wizard, Gandalf,” he said the name eagerly as if it was a name that held great importance- which it did, “come with a ranger, an elf and a dwarf. Seemed to wake the King from his stooper he’d been in as of late.” The mention of the company you sought out invigorated you. You were getting closer.

“Me and Florith over there were having none of it though. Said, we were born in Edoras, if we were to die, it would be in Edoras.”

Fools, the pair of them. You thought, however you were grateful for the information their reluctance to leave had granted you.

Helm’s Deep was a few hard day's ride through the white mountains and with the whole city in tow, they wouldn’t have gotten far fast. You rode hard through the mountain pass, but when you reached yet another battlefield, dead Rohanese men and orc scattered the clearing that overlooked the river. However, the lack of any notable deaths to you, told you the company you sought had won, but it was clear their numbers dwindled. As you stood on the cliffs edge surveying the scene, you noticed something strange moving along the bank of the river, further up the pass. A lone horse. Not just any horse though- it was Brego. You stomach turned to stone. Aragorn.

You climbed back atop your own stied, pushing it at top speed to catch up with the darker coloured horse in the distance. You had no idea what you would find when you reached Brego, but you just knew you had to get to him- follow him. As the wind whipped past your ears, you could have sworn it was whispering to you in Elvish. It imbued in you a spirit of urgency that spurred you on.

The horse finally came to a stop at the Riverbank and moved towards a dark figure laying atop the slate that marked the edge of the water. You climbed down from your horse and quickly made your way over to the fallen man and his horse.

‘Aragorn.” you said breathlessly as you fell to your knees beside him. He was wet through and the top of his arm was badly injured. Your fingers reached to feel for a pulse, grateful when you felt the faint thrum of his heartbeat. His eyes fluttered as he became aware of your presence.

You stood, moving around him to hook your hands beneath his arms and drag him from the water. “Come on, Aragorn.” you muttered to him as you pulled him across the dirt towards your two awaiting horses. “Come on, wake up.” you said as you let go of his body again and moved back down onto your knees beside him.

When you reached to touch his face, his eyes suddenly shot open in defence, but upon seeing your face he quickly relaxed. “Raea.” He sighed, his hand struggling as he reached for your hand that now rested on his chest. “Am I dead?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so.” you reassured him softly, yet still slightly playful. “What happened?” you asked, your brow furrowing.

“We were attacked up in the pass.” he said.

“Legolas.” you breathed his name, your concern for his well being flooding your voice.

“He lives.” Aragorn confided and you knew his response was more than just literal. Legolas had always loved the thrill of the chase. Longed for battle and stimulation.

“We have to move you before night falls.” You said to him. “Do you think you can ride?” you asked.

He shifted his body, somewhat strained and it was clear the pain he felt in his limbs right now, but he fought against it, “Always.” he tried to reassure.

“Come on, let’s get you up.” you said, reaching an arm out and around him, helping him to stand and hobble towards Brego. You let go of him to help hold the horse steady so he may haul himself back up into the saddle. He hesitated, his upper body slumping to the side slightly as his thighs held him tight atop the horse. You carefully climbed up atop your own horse, pulling him alongside Brego in order for you to reach for the reins.

“Hold on, rest.” you told Aragorn, “I’ll lead us until you are strong enough to do it yourself.”

He had long known not to fight your will or advice, after all, it was your counsel and wisdom that had helped shape him into the compassionate man he was. As a man who loved an Elven woman himself and had thought often of future offspring with her, being friends with you and your own heritage had given him nothing but hope the whole time he had known you.

It was a gruelling three day slog along the river and back over the last ridge of the mountain range. You were grateful that on that third day, your companion began to feel like his old self again.

“You know you won’t have a warm welcome when you arrive.” he advised as you slowly made your way over the uneven terrain on your horses.

“I know.” you sighed, resigning yourself to your fate and the inevitable argument that would come when Legolas saw you.

“You know it has only ever been you for him. After you left us his mood became like a dark cloud. It took a long time for him to find the sun again.”

Before you had a chance to reply, you both heard something that rocked you both to your core. You hid under the cover of a ridge as you watched an army of Uruk-hai marching forward through the valley below. “Aragorn.” you said, worried.

“They’ll be headed for the fortress. We must go.”

You both picked up your pace then, pushing your horses harder, faster, until you reached the clearing that led to Helm’s Deep, an old fortress built into the very side of the mountain. “Hi-yah” you both commanded your horses as you raced the final stretch to safety.

As you cantered up the ramp, there were shouts and the gates were pulled open for you both. You couldn’t help but look up at the sheer size of the fortress as you passed through the large doors, but the vastness of the keep was quickly diminished as you rode through over occupied pathways until you came to a stop at the heart of the fortress, the growing crowd too dense as they grew excited by the presence of your companion.

“Where is he? Where is he!? I’m gonna kill him.” the dwarf Gimli commanded as he pushed through the crowd, but when he saw his friend's face he smiled. “You are the luckiest, the canniest and the most reckless man I ever knew.” He bellowed as Aragorn got down from his horse. As the two men embraced you used your vantage point atop your horse to look through the crowd for the flash of blonde hair you knew would be your undoing.

“Where is the King?” Aragorn asked and his small friend pointed in the direction of the hall. That’s when you saw him, stood just outside the large double doors. He froze as he saw his friend, then his eyes moved back to you and you watched as his face fell.

You mustered your strength as you slipped from your horse, handing off the reins to a waiting aid, quietly thanking him.

Although you had prepared yourself for this conversation, you still found yourself hiding behind Aragorn as he and Legolas greeted each other. “Le ab-dollen.” The elf said, You’re late. It was an attempt at a joke, the Elven Prince had long used humour as a coping mechanism, but his expressive eyes spoke of his true feeling as he smiled at the man before him. Legolas really took Aragorn in then; the state of his clothing, the wound at his shoulder. You then watched as he stepped forward and handed over the Evenstar pendant Arwen had given to Aragorn. The relief on Aragorn’s face after thinking he had lost it was palpable. The rugged dark haired man gave the elf a smile and nod before he stepped past him in search of the King to inform him of what you had seen on your journey. You made to breeze past the tall blonde elf, but his hand caught your arm as he pulled you to the side.

“I thought I told you not to come.” he said, his brow hardened.

You hesitated for a moment under his stare, but found the courage to stand tall in your conviction. “I heard news of Gandalf, I could not just sit aside any longer.”

“There is great danger here.” Legolas warned, but you were having none of it.

“There is danger everywhere.” you pressed. “And I know where my talents are needed.”

“All the same, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Yes, she should.” came the gruff voice of the dwarf from behind you. The two of you turned then to look at him. “From what I hear, she’s a good fighter- and we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

As the dwarf continued past the two of you, making to follow Aragorn and join the discussion with the king, you shot the elven Prince a look that stressed that none of this was up for debate right now- there were far more pressing matters at hand. At the change in your expression, Legolas was able to read the looming situation without you having to say a single word and he quickly moved too towards the discussion in the great hall.

“A great host you say.” Theoden’s voice echoed around the room as the two of you joined the convened assembly.

“All Isengard has been emptied.” Aragorn informed.

“How many?” The King asked.

Before Aragorn had a chance to respond, you found your voice calling across the room, “10,000.”

“At least.” Aragorn quickly added as his gaze appraised you.

“10,000!” Theoden replied in shock.

“It is an army bred for a single purpose.” You found yourself stating.

Once again the dark haired ranger looked to you appreciatively, nodding his head in agreement before continuing your sentence, saying your implied meaning out loud for the king, “To destroy the world of men.”

“And who is this?” Theoden asked Aragorn, confused by your sudden presence.

“This is the Lady Raea, she is a well skilled warrior who has travelled from Rivendell to aid us in this fight.” Aragorn explained, however his choice of words and their implied implication that you were born of Lord Elrond’s people made you bristle. You found yourself looking nervously to the floor, now unable to meet the kings eyes for fear he would see through your dear friend’s cleverly worded statement. Being presented to the king as a true full elf would give you more standing and credibility with the man, though you worried that if he looked too long at you, he would see the real truth. You had lived amongst the men of your Father’s world long enough to know their stance on women and their perceived place in the world- and it was not fighting side by side with men.

“She is a skilled fighter, I trained her myself. She will be invaluable in this battle if the numbers of the looming threat ring true.” You looked to the elf at your side in earnest, surprised by his statement and the way he stepped to your side with pride.

“Very well.” Theoden replied, dismissing your presence once again. “How long until they get here?” He said, turning back to Aragorn.

“They will be here by nightfall.” The ranger replied.

You all watched the king closesly as a small glimmer of fear crept into his eyes, but respect for the man rang true when he pushed it aside, bolstering his courage, as he commanded, “Let them come!” before he strode from the room, ready to rally his men for battle. The rest of you following close behind.

You walked proudly at Legolas’s side as you all followed the king, listening to him give commands and plan battle strategy. “I want every man and strong lad, able to bear arms by night fall.” He said to one of his wards, before turning back towards us. “We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the Deeping Wall or set foot inside the Hornberg.” He said confidently.

“This is no rabble of mindless Orcs.” You tried to say, suddenly concerned the King may be underestimating his adversaries with his over confidence. After all, you had seen the droves of Uruk-hai for yourself and they were bred for one thing and one thing alone - death.

“The Uruk-hai’s armour is thick,” the dwarf beside you’s gruff voice spoke up in agreement, “and their shields broad,” he warned.

“I have fought many wars Master Dwarf and Lady Elf, I know how to defend my own keep,” Theoden bristled.

At his words and gaze towards you, you felt Legolas stiffen and grow taller beside you defensively. You had no doubt of the piercing look of warning he now fixed the king, but you kept your eyes forward on King Theoden as he continued to speak. “They will break upon this fortress like water on rock.” He continued as he marched back into the hall. “Saruman’s hordes will pillage and burn, we’ve seen it before. Crops can be resown, homes rebuilt, he said confidently, “Within these walls, we will outlast them.”

“They do not come to destroy crops or villages.” Aragorn said strongly, willing the King to see reason, “They come to destroy its people. Down to its last child.” He stressed.

At Aragorn’s words, the King’s facade cracked slightly, as he drew closer to the dark haired man. “What would you have me do?” He asked of the younger looking man before him. “Look at my men, their courage hangs by a thread.” Theoden stressed in hushed tones, before saying a little more confidently, “If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance.”

“Send out riders my Lord, you must call for aid.” Aragorn stressed.

“And who will come?” Theoden retorted. “Elves? Dwarves?” He said, motioning slightly to present company in the room. “We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead.” He said defeatedly.

“Gondor will answer.” Aragorn stressed again.

“Gondor?” The king scoffed. “Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gondor-“ the king began again, but quickly quelled his growing anger in favour of deplomacy. “No, my Lord Aragorn,” he said placatingly, “we are alone.”

As the king made to stride from the hall once more, shouting about getting the women and children to safety- Aragorn and Gimli following in tow- you felt Legolas’s hand reach for your own, holding you back. You met his awaiting gaze and held it, as he waited for the hall to clear. “You will stay with the women and children.” He began to command, “Be their last line of defence if things come to it.”

You frowned up at him with disbelief. “No.” You said defiantly. “You speak on my behalf and call me a great warrior then do me the disservice of commanding me to stay behind.” You accuse him in shock, “No!” You said again, moving to pull away from him, but his hand reached for you once more and holds you firm.

“There is no one better to keep them safe.” He stressed.

“I will fight at your side like I always have.” You replied through gritted teeth.

“Im wil ú- tir- cin bel-“ I will not watch you die.

“Ben im cin.” Or I you. “Your immortality cannot save you from meeting the end of a blade.” You reminded him.

“All the more reason you should not be there.” He said to you softly, willing you to see reason. But there is no reason in this for you. Your place has and always will be at his side.

“Dab- nin ceri- hi.” You said back softly. Let me do this.

You watched closely to the battle within him. Kept your eyes on him, even when his faltered. But eventually they found yours again.

“Cin shall ceri- sui im treneri- cin.” He conceded. You will do as I tell you. “Im treneri- cin na nor- cin nor,” he reasoned. If I tell you to run, you run. You silently nodded your head in agreement. You stilled as you felt his hand raise to cup your cheek softly. “Im shall ú- guin- in a ambar cin ceri- ú- guin- in.” I will not live in a world you do not live in.

His earnest words brought tears to your eyes. You had both been in many skirmishes together over the years, but never in a battle like this. You had seen the forces you were up against first hand and you both knew that without aid, the likelihood of you both coming out of this alive was slim, but you knew there was no other way you’d rather leave this world than fighting by his side.

As night began to fall, you sat in the great hall readying your weapons, surveying the room, it’s strengths and it’s weaknesses, the entrances to the tunnels, establishing strategies in the likelihood you were commanded to fall back here, as the last of the women and children were ushered underground to safety. You had already restrung your bow ready for the start of the battle- the one opportunity you knew you’d get on the front lines- before starting to sharpen your blades, in preparation for any close up attack.

Your stomach turned as two more young boys were brought back out of the caves to fight. They couldn’t have been older than nine or ten. Far too young for a battle like this. Too inexperienced in so many more ways than just war. There was no doubt Theoden and his men were sending them to instant death. You continued to watch them as they fell from view of the great doors, even when a familiar presence came to a stop beside you,

“Hain glenn- na bel-“ you said to the air with sorrow. They go to their deaths. At the thought, your eyes dropped to the weapon in your hands, the very same short sword the elf beside you had gifted you during your training with him many years ago. He reached out to take it from you.

You watched as he brought it closer to his eyes, examining it. “You have maintained the blades well.”

“Of course, just as you taught me to.” You replied, taking the blade back carefully from his grasp and sliding it back inside it’s sheith. You hesitated a moment as you placed it back on the table, unable to meet his eye as you thought on the question that suddenly plagued your mind. As you slowly turned towards him, the look of concern in his eyes was palpable, but you knew this might be the only opportunity you would ever get to ask him, so you mustered your courage. “Will you tie my battle braids?”

He stiffened for a moment, but suddenly flustered with pride from your request. A small smile tickled his lips as he nodded. He silently ushered you to stand so that he could move to sit atop the table, beckoning you to sit back down on the bench between his legs once he was seated.

You both sat in soft silence as his fingers began to dance and weave through your hair, pulling strands and pieces into one braid after another as the rest of the keep continued to arm themselves and ready for action. At one point you were sure you heard the bellowing tones of Gimli beginning to echo through the hall as he and Aragorn made their way through the doors, however Aragorn had taken one look at you and the Elven Prince sat behind you and quickly ushered his smaller friend back outside, knowing how significant a moment this was for the two of you; allowing you to have the tender moment before the battle to come.

You felt his hands move away when he was done, but neither one of you moved or said anything. When the silence permeated the air for too long, you finally turned your head back to him. When you finally met his eyes, they held both pain and somehow peace. You wanted to ask him, but the sudden sound of a horn outside and a commotion amongst the men stopped you. You both frowned at the familiar sound.

“That sounds like-“ you paused, questioning if you were indeed hearing things right.

Legolas quickly rushed to his feet and you quickly followed on his heels as cries of “Open the gate,” began to ring out.

You both came to a stop beside Aragorn and the king as an army of Elven soldiers made their way up through the winding path from the gate to where you all stood. Your heart warmed as you spotted a familiar face amongst them, Haldir.

“How is this possible?” You heard Theoden ask as he took in the sight before him.

You looked to the elf beside you then back to Haldir as he stepped towards the king. “I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell. An alliance once existed between elves and men,” he said. “Long ago we fought and died together.” He then looked to you, then Legolas beside you, then to Aragorn and Gimli. “We come to honor that allegiance.” He smiled warmly.

You watched as Aragorn stepped forward and smiled at him gratefully. “Mae govannen, Haldir,” he greeted him formally, before wrapping his arms around him in a firm embrace of gratitude and hope that seemed to shock the elf and make you smile, but Haldir quickly embraced his old friend back- if not slightly more modestly.

“You are most welcome!” Aragorn continued to beam hopefully as he and the elf parted so that Legolas and yourself could welcome your old friend.

You let Legolas step forth and embrace him first, but their embrace was short and sweet. When Haldir turned to you, he had a look of both surprise but also fondness at seeing you amongst familiar company again. “Haldir.” You smiled fondly as you wrapped your arms around him and he you.

“Raea.” He smiled back. “It is good to see you back where you belong.” He said as he stepped back from you, before turning back to the King, “We are proud to fight alongside men once more.”

You didn’t have much time after Haldir’s arrival to get in position. Before long, the glow of the Uruk-hai’s torches was on the horizon. True to his word, Legolas allowed you to stand at the front with him and the other archers.

“You could have picked a better spot.” Gimli grumbled from the other side of Legolas.

Neither yourself or the prince beside you could contain your smiles as the dwarf continued to crane his neck in an attempt to see over the wall and work out what was going on. As you turned your head to survey the impeding doom for yourself, you couldn’t help but let your stomach turn slightly. Although you had seen them not hours ago with Aragorn as you made your way here to the keep, it was another to see their looming numbers in the dark and hear their snarls carry on the wind.

The feeling of a pair of fingers reaching for your own helped to ground you and bring you back to the present. To help remind you why you were here and what you were fighting for. As if he was having the same thought, you weren’t at all surprised when Legolas chose to reiterate his conditions, all the more desperate now to protect your life after your bonding ritual. “Enyal, ir im treneri- cin a nor- cin nor-.” He stressed. Remember, when I tell you to run, you run.

You nodded in agreement as Aragorn passed behind you, moving to a gap the other side of Gimli.

“Well lad, whatever luck you live by,” you heard Gimli begin to shout, “let’s hope it lasts the night.”

“Your friends are with you Aragorn.” Legolas continued from beside you and you couldn’t help but look to your fellow companions with pride. It took root in your belly as you looked at them and you nodded in agreement. Come rain or shine, life or death- this was always where you were meant to be.

“Let’s hope they last the night.” Gimli said hopefully and you smiled to the dwarf gratefully. You too hoped you would all live through the night, just so you could get to know your old friends new loyal company a little better.

There was a sudden bright flash across the sky, followed by a loud crash of thunder and it was as if fate willed it and the heavens opened up. As Aragorn began to give the Elven company around you commands, you looked back to Legolas beside you, taking in every feature, mapping every line, one last time, just in case; your eyes blinking rapidly to dispel the raindrops as you did.

Although the sound of the rain roared loudly, the roar of the approaching enemy was still louder and it forced your attention away from your love and back to it and the task at hand. You watched as the leader of the Uruk-hai stopped, raising his sword in the air with a loud horrific cry, bringing his army to a halt,

“What happening out there?” Gimli asked, straining to look over the wall again.

To your surprise, Legolas smiled and responded to the dwarf in jest. “Would you like me to describe it to you? Or would you like me to find you a box.”

The dwarf laughed and it made your heart melt. Now you all really did need to live through the night, just so you could see more of their dynamic and how it had shaped your lover over the course of the journey they had already been on.

It’s still for a moment before the Uruk-hai leader cried out again and his army begin to rally behind him, grunting, roaring and thumping their spears violently against the floor in a sound that was unnerving yet made you muster your courage. You heard a call to your right and quickly readied your bow, focusing up and setting your sight lines on your first kill. You were suddenly surprised though as that same Uruk-hai was suddenly struck by an arrow, an older man along the line losing his nerve and letting loose too early.

“DARTHO!” You heard Aragorn’s familiar voice command. Hold.

The Uruk-hai slowly stopped their catterwalling as their member who was hit slowly fell to the ground. It took mere seconds for them to realise what had happened and grow angry. Their leader gave his newly riled up army his signal and they began to charge towards the wall.

“TANGADO HALAD!” You heard Aragorn cry and there was the mass sound of arrows being pulled from quivers and notched onto bows, the strings being pulled taught as the elves that surrounded you prepared their bows. You reaffirmed your stance and placed your bow string to your lips as an anchor as you set your sight lines again, breathing deeply and calmly, counting each breath in your head as you relaxed into the familiar stance.

You heard Legolas’s voice call out from beside you, but you didn’t dare look at him. “Faeg i-varv dén na lane a nu rane.” You heard him say. Their armour is weak at the neck and beneath the arms.

You made note of the instruction and adjusted accordingly then waited for Aragorn’s command.

“LEITHIO I PHILINN!” He cried and there was a collective release of held breaths and arrows as they began to soar through the air, before raining down on the Uruk-hai, hitting their intended marks, a flurry of bodies rapidly hitting the ground. You let out another proud breathe and allowed the corner of your lip to raise in triumph as your own mark collapsed sideways into the orc next to him, the pair of them crashing to the ground.

“Did they hit anything?” Gimli’s booming voice asked his compatriots; but before anyone had a chance to respond, a cry came from atop the gate and another flurry of arrows were let loose from the troops stood atop it.

You watched as your own fingers raced to ready your next arrow as orc after orc hit the ground, but it wasn’t enough. There were too many of them and for every Uruk-hai that fell, another swiftly took its place.

There were more cries of fire and one more wave of arrows after another was let loose in an attempt to do as much damage before they hit the wall.

You readied yet another arrow to set loose when you began to notice the ladders being brought forward. You began to aim for the Uruk-hai carrying them, focusing your efforts on killing as many as you could. For ever single arrow you sent, your lover next to you sent two, sometimes even three more.

But once again it was no use as the Uruk-hai began to lift the ladders up towards the wall.

“PENDRAID!” Ladders You heard Aragorn call as they began to clatter against the stone. You bravely stepped forward and aimed your arrows straight down as the orc began to climb but a hand reached for yours to stop you.

You turned to see Legolas look at you with desperation in his eyes. You heard Aragorn call for everyone to ready their swords. You looked to him as you hesitated, but Legolas’ firm hold drew you back to him and the promise you made. To run. Not necessarily to the great hall to protect the women and children just yet, but away from here.

His blue eyes quickly rose to where Theoden stood and you followed them before nodding in acknowledgment.

You placed your bow across your back before pulling out both your swords ready to fight your way along the wall to get up there and out the way of the carnage about to unfold where you currently stood.

There was a clatter of metal to either side of you as the Elves began to clash with the first of the Uruk-hai to reach the top of the wall. You knew you had to leave, but as you looked to the beautiful tall blonde before you, you found it hard to move your feet and part from him, just in case this would be the last time you saw him. When he quickly turned to let loose another arrow you attempted to seize the moment, but his hand was quickly at your wrist again pulling you back to him, his lips crashing into yours in one last bruising kiss before he literally pushed you away again and you ran.

You quickly pulled out your swords from your back and began to cut a path through the many Elven soldiers as they stepped forward and began to battle the first of the Uruk-hai now climbing over the top of the walls. You aided as many of your brethren as you could, slashing at any orc that came your way and running them through with your sword, turning from one to the next, not looking back until you reached the stairs up to where Theoden and his men stood.

You were halfway up the stone steps when you heard Aragorn’s cries call out over the din of clashing metal and grunting. “TOGO HON DAD, LEGOLAS!” At the sound of your lovers name on your friends lips you froze, turning your head to look back out to where they stood. Then you followed your dark haired friends gaze down and saw the two bombs being brought forward.

You quickly cursed yourself for abandoning your bow once you had run out of arrows, the need to do all you could to help them taking over. Your legs burned as you pushed your way up the last of the stairs as quickly as you could, racing over to the edge of the parapet, snatching a bow from an older man’s grasp, before sliding an arrow into place and pulling the string taut. Your eyes scanned the line of elves doing battle for your Prince just as he let loose an arrow over the side of the wall as one of the Uruk-hai now ran forward with a torch, ready to light the two bombs.

It lodged itself in the creatures shoulder but he kept going. You took aim and loosed your own and Aragorn continued to cry out, “DAGO HON! DAGO HON!” Kill him.

It was like time slowed down as you watched your arrow lodge into the Orc’s neck, but still he kept going, even as Legolas’s second arrow also hit true, the Orc using the last of his strength to leap forward into the gap at the bottom of the wall.

Your eyes went wide and your mouth opened as if to scream as the blast rang out, obliterating the wall, but no sound came out. Your chest ached as you attempted to keep your eyes on them through the crowd but it was no use. It was complete carnage.

The blow to your forces only bolstered the army of Orcs and they charged forward with a renewed zealousness and soon it was all you could do to keep fighting what was in front of you, than keeping a tab on your friends and where they were in the mess along the causeway.

“Brace the gate! Hold them! Stand firm!” You heard Theoden roar and you mustered as much energy as you could into firing more arrows down at the mass of Uruk-hai now charging forward. However your good aim quickly made you a target. As you let loose another arrow, a spear was thrown up in your direction from below. You felt a body collide with your side and you were quickly slammed to the ground, the old man who had pushed you out the way crying out in pain as the spear hit him instead.

It was the same old man you had taken the bow from and as his body collapsed down beside you and you watched as the life left his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for his sacrifice.

You suddenly felt like you were drowning, the noise of the battle falling out of focus as panic gripped you, but you knew you have to keep going. You thanked the man, although you knew he could no longer hear you as you pushed yourself back up to your feet, Gamling calling out to the men fighting below from somewhere further along the line and at your friends name on his lips, a confirmation of his life, you were able to find that renewed push to keep going.

“ARAGORN, FALL BACK TO THE KEEP! GET YOUR MEN OUT OF THERE!”

You made your way back to the edge of the wall as you heard Aragorn call out to those around him, telling them to retreat. You sought out another quiver of arrows, sending one after another into your enemies in an attempt to buy them as much time as possible to get back to the keep. But when you heard Aragorn call out Haldir’s name, it made your veins run cold.

Your eyes sought them out in the crowd and you shot one arrow after the next, clearing the path forward for the ranger in order for him to get to your friend, but it was too late. You watched as the Elf’s body crumpled and your hand hesitated on your next arrow. It was a distraction that cost you as another arrow was shot up at you from below. It hit your shoulder with a thud and you let out a shriek of pain as you stumbled back from the edge of the wall defensively.

As your hand reached up to clutch at the wound, the arrow lodged just under your collarbone, you heard Theoden call out to his men to rally and protect the gate. You knew this was your sign, your signal to move to the hall to protect those hidden down below on the off chance the gate fell and the Uruk-hai got through. As you began to move another stray arrow came over the top of the wall, slicing through your thigh and you sneered again in pain. Luckily it was merely a scratch, unlike the arrow that still stuck out of your shoulder and you were able to hobble down to the hall.

Your fingers clutched around the length of the arrow, ready to take it out so you could get your swords back out to fight with, but it wouldn’t budge. That was when you realised how far through it was. As you raced through the doors to the hall you were grateful to find a few men and a small medical set up for quick fixes in order to get men back out fighting again, but they were all young and useless.

As the thudding of the Uruk-hair’s battering ram continued to hammer at the gate, sending a wave of panic through you, you forced yourself to will the sound away and focus on what you needed to do to get back on your feet. You couldn’t fix your shoulder just yet, but you could strap up your leg. “You, bandages!” You commanded one of the young men and they raced forward. It was then you really cursed your lack of healing knowledge and really wished one of your companions were with you to do this for you. They’d know exactly what to do; which mixture of herbs to put on it to stave off infection and promote healing, not to mention wrapping this thing up properly.

You hastily began strapping up your leg as you head the men outside at the the gate calling out to one another. “HOLD FAST THE GATE!” One of the soldiers cried out and there was a clatter of heavy wood as the gate was barricaded shut.

Your heart lurched as you heard Theoden’s booming voice cry out, “GIMLI, ARAGORN! GET OUT OF THERE!”

As the young lad you’d called forward tied off the bandage around your leg, you quickly waved him off, just as a clatter of metal collided with the stone above, echoing throughout the fortress.

“PULL EVERYBODY BACK!” You heard Theoden cry out and you fought to get back on your feet, pulling one of your swords out ready with your one working arm, as men began to filter through the doors to the hall.

You scanned their bedraggled faces covered in dirt and blood. Some of it their own, some of it not.

Then you heard the words that struck fear into your soul. “THEY’VE BROKEN THROUGH! THE CASTLE IS BREACHED! RETREAT!”

There was a thundering roar as the Uruk-hai pushed through the gate and began to charge past the stone walls. Your heart leapt as you heard a familiar voice call out for people to get inside but you didn’t have time to acknowledge it as a rogue orc pushed through the doorway. You didn’t hesitate as you plucked an axe from the hands of a man collapsed beside you and through it. It lodged itself right into the beasts forehead and he growled in pain before he collapsed to the ground, just as you saw King Theoden come into view of the doors.

“Quick, move aside!” You shouted to the men lingering by the doors, willing them to move and make space for the King and his men. As he passed into the hall, the King took one look at you, arrow still protruding from your shoulder, your arm numb with shock and adrenaline and gave you an appraising look, but your eyes were quickly moving away from him as Aragorn came into view behind him. He was still giving out orders to those around him but when his eyes landed on you he stopped, instantly rushing over.

“Get everybody in! Get those doors closed!” He commanded to Gamling as he strode across the hall towards you, ushering you back down on a bench at one of the tables. But as you sat down, you caught a flash of green and blonde hair coming through the door and your face became ashen as you locked eyes with your lover.

“RAEA!” He cried out, rushing over to you and the ranger now observing more closely the arrow in your shoulder.

“Legolas!” You breathed out his name in a sigh of relief as he fell to the floor at your feet. “Ahhhgg.” You sneered, your eyes flashing dagger at Aragorn as he pulled slightly at the arrow. “That hurts!”

“But it needs to come out.” He stressed calmly in that chastising way you hated. He moved to pull it again and you cried out louder, Legolas’s hand flying out to hold yours. “It’s stuck.” Aragorn turned and said to him.

“Just cut off the end and pull it through then!” You both grimaced and commanded. It was something you’d seen done before, but never experienced it for yourself.

“Are you sure?” Aragorn asked as Theoden’s men continued to move around the three of you barricading the doors.

“Yes, I’m sure! Just pull it out!” You said to him desperately,

Your eyes fell to the elf in front of you as the two of them shared looks between each other before silently agreeing. “Këp cin hen bo nin meleth nin.” Keep your eyes on me, my love. He breathed out and you nodded keeping your eyes on your Prince as Aragorn quickly snapped off the end of the arrow in preparation. You hissed slightly as the length of the arrow pulled with the force and your fingers gripped tighter around Legolas’s as you braved yourself for what came next.

You steeled yourself as you took a deep breath, seeking out your lovers ocean blue eyes, fixing your sights on them as you nodded your head and psyched yourself up. He reached his other hand up to brace your side, ready to hold you still as Aragorn braced one hand on your shoulder and his other around the arrow tip sticking through your back. You kept your eyes on Legolas as he glanced up at Aragorn and gave him a nod and pain ripped through your shoulder as he pulled the arrow all the way through leaving a clear hole through your chest, just beneath your collar bone. You felt Legolas’s fingers grip you tighter as you cried out from the initial pain.

“Thûl, meleth nin.” Breathe my love.

“Nîdh!” You hissed as your body rocked back and forth trying to ride out the pain as Aragorn rushed away to get something, no doubt herbs to place on it before he wrapped it. “Nîdh.” You said again. It hurts.

“Im ista, meleth nin.” I know, my love, he cooed to you softly as his hand moved to rub soothingly at your other arm.

“Get this on it.” Aragorn grunted in instruction as he handed over a couple of leaves to the elven Prince, the younger lad from before following close behind with more bandages, before he strode away to talk with Theoden about what you were all going to do next.

“The fortress is taken! It’s over!” You heard the King cry out in defeat as Legolas began to chew on the leaves he had been handed, mixing them with his saliva until they made a paste before he pressed them to the wound on either side of your chest and you let out a small hiss and he gave you a small sympathetic look as he diligently worked.

“Is there no other way to get the women and children out through the caves! IS THERE NO OTHER WAY!” Aragorn bellowed, trying to get a straight answer from the now panicking king.

“There is one other passage. It leads through the mountains! But they will not get far. The Uruk-hai are too many,” Gamling offered up as Legolas began to wrap up the wound where the arrow had been, sliding the bandage over your shoulder, across your chest, under your arm and back round again.

“Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass. And barricade the entrance.” Aragorn continued to instruct, taking charge as Theoden descended into madness.

“So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?”

You watched as Aragorn took stock of the room and tried to formulate a plan. “Ride out with me.” He said in a hopeful tone, turning his head back towards the King as Legolas tied off your bandage and helped you back to your feet, holding you firmly in his arms, close to his chest.

“Ride out and meet them.” Aragorn said again.

“For death and glory.” Theoden said hopefully.

“For Rohan. For your people.” Aragorn stressed.

“The sun is rising.” Gimli noted and you all looked to the windows where the first rays of light were coming into view providing hope of a new day.

“Yes! Yes! The horn of Helm Hammerhand shall sound in the deep one last time.” Theoden said, continuing to be emboldened by the idea now taking hold.

“Yes!” Gimli cried out and you watched as he raced to the horn in question.

“Let this be the hour when we draw swords together!” Theoden cried, moving to a horse in the room and you looked to the elf at your side as the King continued to make his speech. “Fell deeds awake! Now for wrath! Now for ruin! And a red dawn!” He cried out and the men began to rally.

You kept hold of Legolas’s hand as he stepped aside and reached out for the reigns of one of the horses as it was ushered towards you both. “I will ride and fight with you until the end.” You told him.

“And I with you.” He replied before climbing up into the saddle and holding out his hand to haul you up behind him, your hands snaking tightly around his waist as the horse bristled beneath you and you all lined up ready to ride out.

Legolas turned his head back to you and you ensnared his lips into a kiss just as the horn rang out, bellowing deep throughout the keep and Theoden led the charge out through the door, Aragorn close on his heels, followed by yourself and Legolas.

You worked as a team, cutting down orcs with your blades as they neared your horse. The higher advantage point gave you the upper hand, but their sheer force of numbers continued to close in around you all as you made your way out of the keep. You couldn’t think of anything else except hold tight, slice and kill, repeating the actions again and again as your company slowly carved a path through the Uruk-hai. That was until the rays of sun coming up over the hill caught your eye, a lone figure on a white horse being back lit by the rising sun.

Your hand clutched tighter at Legolas’ waist to get his attention and he too looked, just as a mass of riders cantered up behind the figure. Reinforcements had finally arrived. As the power of horse riders made their way down into the valley, it gave your company one last plight of hope in which to keep fighting until every last Orc was slain.

As Legolas charged forward, carving a path into the masses for you to fight a body collided with the back of the horse and you lost your grip as Legolas ploughed down yet another Uruk-hai body. You were thrown from the back of the horse and you sneered as your shoulder took the brunt of the fall.

“Raea!!!” Legolas called back to you, but the horse wouldn’t stop.

You fought to get back to your feet, just in time to raise your sword and block an oncoming orc. You kicked it away, turning sharply and using the momentum to cut it down, just as another filled its place. You kept going, kicking and slashing, turning your body this way and that, cutting through one orc after another as you waited for Legolas to make his way back to you.

You could barely hear anything over the clash of metal so when a nearby war cry rang out and a horse came charging into view, a large spear impaling one your your assailants, you welcomed the sound and looming relief of aid. You quickly turned around, slashing through one more orc as you sought out the hand outstretched to you and were overcome with joy as you caught a glimpse of the familiar face of your rescuer.

“Èomer.” You breathed out his name as you were hauled up onto the horse.

“Hold on.” He commanded, using his sword to slash at another charging orc and clear your path forward.

You clung to Èomer tightly as his horse made haste and you both seized every opportunity to cut down the remaining orc forces around you until there was nothing left of them.

As your eyes scanned around you to be sure the fight was over, you finally rested your head on the back of his shoulder with relief and you swore you heard him let out a breathy chuckle as his own relief washed over him.

“Thank you.” You said to him as you lifted your head and looked over his shoulder, searching for his face.

“I guess we can just call ourselves even now.” He mused and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory that flashed into your mind at his words.

“Raea.” A breathy voice called to you as another horse approached your flank and Èomer turned your horse to face them. Your eyes swam with relief as they fell on the elven Prince as he came to a stop beside you.

“Legolas.” You cried as you raced to get down from atop Èomer’s horse, the man quickly climbing down after you as Legolas too got down from his horse and wrapped you in his arms.

“*Hanta- i elena cin moina.” Thank the stars you are safe. Legolas practically breathed into you as he held you close.

You parted from him only enough to look in his eyes and be sure he too was safe and well. But when you turned your head back to Èomer watching the two of you, you moved too quickly to not see the flicker of hurt within him before he pushed it down and concealed it once more.You knew exactly why it was there too.

When you had left Aragorn and Legolas before, it was Èomer who had picked up the pieces. Èomer who filled the gap left behind by the friends you knew you had had to leave. He who you fought with. He who you drank with, talked late into the night to and even lay in bed with. You knew how he had grown attached to you. Knew you had grown attached to him too in certain ways. But you also knew there was only one your heart truly belonged to. However it didn’t hurt you any less seeing the pain flash across his face at being faced with seeing the one he loved in the arms of another.

But for all you saw, alas your love did not see. Your stomach turned as he strode forward with an air of great gratitude to the man before him. “You protected her life. I owe you a life of gratitude.” The elf said, holding his hand out to the man before him.

“Don’t mention it.” Èomer grunted, his eyes moving from the elf before him to you, before he turned away from you both, climbing back up onto his horse as he went in search for his fellow riders.

Legolas turned back to you perplexed, attempting to work out what was unsaid. “Cin gar- govannen fai?” You have met before? He asked.

“Ho na- a mellon.” You replied. He is a friend. But Legolas knew from the way you said it and the look in your eyes that it was more than just that and he bristled with jealousy before he pushed it away. He had known as well as you did that there was still so much you had yet to speak of about your time apart but he also knew that to hold any of your actions against you from that time was beneath him.

So instead he simply nodded in understanding. “Tul-, le ammen rad- min mellon.” Come, let us find our friends.

You nodded in agreement as you let him help you up into the saddle before he climbed up behind you, taking the reigns and encompassing you within his arms and you sagged back exhausted into his embrace as you set off slowly towards where you could see Aragorn, Gandalf and Gimli congregating across the battlefield now that the battle had been won

[lolahauri]

✎ Introduction ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Requests are always open, and you can send as many as you want, as detailed as you want! I just get to them whenever i can/feel like it.

Anon's: 🌹-🕯️-🍁-❤️-🎴-

Other Accounts: @lolas-favfics @lolamultifandom @lolahaurisfw @chowderpop @lolaloa777

AO3: Here

BlueSky: Here

Get To Know Me: Here

Boundaries: Flirting, nicknames, tmi, spam are all okay.😛Just don't copy or repost my stuff. Translations or taking inspo is fine w cred. <3

-> MASTERLIST <- -> EVENT MASTERLIST <-

DNI: MAP, ZOO, Pro-Para, Pro-Ana, TERF, Zionist, Bigots, Minors!!!, Discourse Blogs. ❤️🖤🤍💚

Things I Won't Write: ❌

Sex Crimes of Any Kind, Super Violent/Xtreme Kinks, Inflation, Feederism, Abuse, Puke, Shit, DDLG, Age Play, Raceplay, Wound Fucking, Gore, Vore, Misgendering/Detrans, CBT, Sounding, Fisting, Gunplay, Drugging, Stepcest etc...

Things I Will Write: ✔️

Genderbent Characters, Mild Yandere, Daddy/Mommy Kink, Cheating, Mild BDSM, CNC, Dubcon, Monsters, Hybrids, Sex Pollen, Legal Age Gap, Power Imbalance (Prof/Student, Boss/Employee), Feet, Armpits, Piss, Breeding, Mild Blood/Knifeplay, Cock Warming, Dry Humping, Voyeur, Public Sex, Orgy, 3somes, Sex Toys, Overstim, Edging, etc... etc... :P

Trans Reader, Tall/Short Reader, Chubby/Curvy/Fat/Buff Reader, Other Specific Characteristics. ✔️

Ch x Ch / Ch x Reader / Ch x OC / OC x Reader / Poly Ships of any kind.

F/F, M/M, F/M, GN/F, GN/M, Poly Ships of any kind.

Now that that's out of the way, here's the list of fandoms and characters i'm familiar with and will happily take requests on! (you can request other characters from these fandoms, but it might take me longer!)

Adventure Time/Fiona & Cake: PB, Marceline, Marshall Lee, Winter King, Candy Queen, Simon, Ice King, Fiona.

Attack On Titan: Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Sasha, Levi, Hanji, Annie, Historia, Reiner, Erwin, Ymir. 

Avatar: Jake, Neytiri.

Batman Begins Trilogy: Batman, Catwoman, Bane, Joker, Scarecrow.

Beauty & The Beast: Belle, Beast/Adam, Gaston.

Bee & Puppycat: Bee, Deckard, Cass, Toast.

BigBang Theory: Raj, Leonard, Penny, Amy.

Black Dynamite: Honeybee, Black Dynamite.

BNA: Michiru, Shirou.

Bob’s Burgers: Bob, Linda.

Breaking Bad: Jesse, Skylar.

Call of Duty: Konig, Ghost, Mace, Keegan, Krueger, Valeria, Farah.

Creepypasta: Jeff, Jane, Ben, Toby, EJ, LJ, Slenderman, Splendorman, Clockwork, Kate, Masky, Hoodie,

Desperate Housewives: Bree, Gabi, Edie, Lynette, Carlos, John.

Dirty Dancing: Johnny, Baby.

Earth Girls Are Easy: Mac, Zeebo, Wiploc, Valerie.

Elemental: Wade, Ember.

Encanto: Isabela, Bruno, Dolores, Julieta.

FNAF Movie: Vanessa, Mike, William/Steve.

Frozen: Elsa, Anna, Kristoff.

Futurama: Leela, Fry, Amy, Bender.

Good Pizza, Great Pizza: Alicante, Octavia, Dr. Keh, Nasir, Flash, Cicero, Kimmy Slice, Dr. Price.

Grandma's Boy: J.P, Samantha.

Gravity Falls: Ford, Stan, Soos, Melody, Giffany, Bill.

Jane The Virgin: Jane, Michael, Petra, Luisa, Rose, Rogelio, Xiomara.

Jurassic Park (1993): Ian Malcolm, Ellie Sattler.

Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo, Choso, Nanami, Sukuna.

King of the Hill: Hank, Peggy, Luane, Nancy, Dale, Khan, Min, John Redcorn.

Lisa Frankenstein: Lisa, Creature, Taffy.

Little Mermaid (2022): Ariel, Eric.

MHA: Dabi, Hawks, Aizawa, Shigaraki.

Miller's Girl: Cairo, Johnathon.

Moon Knight: Moon System, Layla, Khonshu.

Mulan: Mulan, Li Shang.

National Treasure: Benjamin, Riley.

Nintendo: Link, Zelda, Peach, Daisy, Rosalina, Luigi, Bowser, Waluigi.

Norbit: Rasputia, Norbit.

Princess & The Frog: Tiana, Lottie, Naveen, Shadow Man.

Ratatouille: Colette, Linguini. 

Regular Show: Mordecai, Margret, Eileen, CJ, Benson.

Resident Evil: Karl Heisenberg, Carlos Oiliveria, Lady Dimitrescu.

Rick and Morty: Rick, Jerry, Beth, Doofus Rick.

Riverdale: FP Jones, Hiram.

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World: Kim, Ramona, Gideon, Wallace.

Scream 5: Amber, Tara, Sam.

Serial Mom: Chip, Beverly.

Silverado: Slick, Rae, Mal, Paden.

Shallow Hal: Rosemary, Hal.

Shameless: Lip, Fiona, Kev, V.

SheRa (2018): All Adults.

Sherlock (2010): Sherlock, John Watson.

Slashers & DBD: Brahms, Ghostface, Michael Myers, Jason Vorhees, Pyramid Head, The Spirit, Huntress, Trapper, Wraith, Trickster, Pearl, Jennifer Check, Stu Matcher, Billy Loomis, Tiffany Valentine, Patrick Bateman, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair, Eric Draven, The Artist, Amanda Young.

Spiderverse: Miguel, Jessica Drew.

Spongebob: Dennis, Man Ray.

Squid Games: Gi-Hun, Sae-Byeok, Ali, Sang Woo.

Steven Universe: Garnet, Amethyst, Peridot, Lapis, Jasper, Blue Diamond, Rose, Greg.

Stardew Valley: All Adult Humans (Except George & Evelyn)

Stranger Things: Robin, Billy Eddie, Chrissy, Hopper.

Supernatural: Sam, Dean, Castiel.

Super Store: Amy, Jonah, Dina, Garrett, Cheyenne.

Tangled: Flynn, Rapunzel, Mother Gothell.

The Batman (2022): Batman, Riddler.

The Breakfast Club: John Bender, Allison Reynolds.

The Nanny: C.C, Fran, Maxwell.

Total Drama Island: S1 Contestants, Chris, Chef, Blainley.

Triple Frontier: Frankie, Santiago.

Turning Red: Ming Lee, Jin Lee.

Twilight: Edward, Carlisle, Alice, Charlie.

YOU: Beck, Joe, Peach, Love.

Young Sheldon: Mary, Connie.

~

Abel Morales (A Most Violent Year)

Astarion (Baulder’s Gate 3)

Babbo Natale (Violent Night)

Barbie (Barbie 2023)

Basil Stitt (Lightning Face)

Beverly Goldberg (The Goldbergs)

Bruce (Beyond Therapy)

Charles Ingalls (Little House on the Praire)

Charlie Dompler (Smiling Friends)

Chel (Road to El Dorado)

Dale Kobble (Longlegs)

Dan Conner (Rosanne)

David Levinson (Independence Day)

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

Doug Remer (Baseketball)

Duke Leto Atreides (Dune)

Fezzik (Princess Bride)

Francine (American Dad)

Fujimoto (Ponyo)

Georgia Miller (Ginny & Georgia)

Jack Harrison (Translyvania 6-5000)

Jackson Rippner (Red Eye)

Jon Arbuckle (Garfield 2024)

John Doe (John Doe Game)

Jonathan Levy (Scenes from a Marriage)

John Wick (John Wick 4)

King Baldwin (Kingdom of Heaven)

Kitten (Breakfast on Pluto)

Laurent LeClaire (In Secret)

Linda Gunderson (Rio)

Llewyn Davis (Inside Lleywn Davis)

Master Chief (Halo)

Mike (5lbs of Pressure)

Moe Doodle (Doodle Bops)

Nani Palekai (Lilo & Stitch)

Nathan Bateman (Ex Machina)

Outcome-3 (The Bourne Legacy)

Orestes (Agora)

Paul Blart (Paul Blart: Mall Cop)

Paul Cable (Last Stand at Saber River)

Peggy Bundy (Married With Children)

Peter Mitchell (3 Men & A Baby)

Poe Dameron (Star Wars)

Prince John (Robin Hood 2010)

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd (Top Gun: Maverick)

Rose Tyler (Doctor Who)

Shiv (Pu-239)

Stanley Ipkiss (The Mask)

Star-Lord (Guardians of the Galaxy)

Summer Field (Time Cut)

Tate Langdon (AHS: Murder House)

The Janitor (Willy’s Wonderland)

Thomas Magnum (Magnum, P.I 1980)

William Tell (The Card Counter)

[wlwanakin]

the queen trilogy by ekj is like aggressively fine and i have many bones to pick but i think one of the biggest issues i have with it is that they had the absolutely golden opportunity to really expand on cordé and versé and make their deaths more impactful + shed light on padmé’s subsequent grief and then they just. did not do that

[velourfant]

phoenix wright is really fucking hot.

and i mean, objectively, sure, he’s pretty attractive, but i’m more so talking about everything he does in the og trilogy. spoiler warnings for aa1, aa2, and aa3!

he’s supposedly a self insert character but that assumption loses all credibility as soon as edgeworth comes into the picture and the player is forced to contend w the fact that yes, phoenix wright actually DOES know him—you’re the one who’s left out. i don’t even mean this in a shippy way (i do ship them but i didn’t start raising my eyebrows until phoenix’s “let me defend you” line at the detention center and i didn’t actually acknowledge i shipped it until phoenix’s “nobody knows the real edgeworth” monologue in his office). i just think that, regardless whether takumi meant to, he established phoenix’s cageyness so early into the game and it works SO FUCKING WELL!

you might think i’m overthinking it but in jfa, phoenix does this again by not letting the player or maya know what became of edgeworth. i’m also going to cite him never telling anyone about dahlia—which IK happened bc JFA and T&T weren’t originally meant to be games—as evidence he’s a cagey piece of shit. even tho aa1 was supposed to be a standalone game, phoenix’s character is so consistent throughout the first trilogy that you would never know otherwise.

i also think the music direction was 10/10 whenever phoenix and someone of importance to him was involved. it’s part of the reason i was so moved by narumitsu, and also why i was INCREDIBLY moved by his reuniting w iris in 3-5.

side note but did i ever mention i actually really fucking like feenris? i am not immune to subtext. i am not immune to good storytelling.

t&t was also perfect for furthering my phoenix wright brainrot because he treats his ex so fucking well. soooo fucking well. when he and dahlia were dating, he treated her like a queen. and even when he became incredibly cagey, he still has that charisma and genuine care for folks he trusts and he’s also so so good w kids and he j makes me wanna explode into a pile of hearts and gooeyness. i love him.

when i finish SOJ DLC, i plan to replay the trilogy just to let everything sink in + feed the part of my brain that actually does ship narumitsu now…and i will definitely be spamming abt it!

i’m writing a think piece abt his character on my main blog but i just think he’s so attractive in a way i didn’t expect him to be. when he broke down the kurain manor channeling door in 2-2, i was ..listening. then he gets pearls to open up to him and i’m thinking oh wow. 2-4 comes and i’m like OH WOW. the final straw was 3-5 when he crosses the bridge for maya. sir, you are so fucking fine. i need you BAD.

[watchnrant]

A Discovery of Witches Season 2: A Darker, Richer Narrative

If you thought A Discovery of Witches was just another fantasy romp with a bit of historical flair, buckle up for Season 2—this ride gets delightfully more treacherous. Based on Deborah Harkness’s All Souls Trilogy, the show kicked off with a seductive blend of magic, academia, and some good old-fashioned supernatural skullduggery. But with its sophomore season, it doesn’t just dip its toes into darkness—it dives headfirst into the murky waters of power struggles, betrayal, and Elizabethan angst. The result? A more prosperous, textured narrative that wraps around you like a cloak on a chilly London night, refusing to let go.

Power and Betrayal: The Core of Season 2

This season isn’t content with picking up where the first left off—it’s a full-blown transformation. Power dynamics take center stage; with stakes so high, you’ll need a ladder to catch your breath. In a world where every glance, whisper, and seemingly innocuous gesture could be a precursor to betrayal, the relentless pursuit of control gives the season its teeth. Whether safeguarding ancient secrets or simply trying to survive another day, the characters are pushed to their limits, leaving you glued to the screen, wondering who will crack under the pressure first.

From Modernity to Mystery: The Haunting Atmosphere of Elizabethan London

Say goodbye to the sleek, modern settings of Season 1—this time, we’re strolling through the gritty, shadow-laden streets of Elizabethan London. The production design team has outdone themselves, crafting an environment where every alleyway feels like it’s hiding something sinister. With dim lighting and claustrophobic sets, the atmosphere is laced with palpable tension. It’s a visual feast that perfectly complements the season’s darker tone, making you feel like danger lurks around every corner—and honestly, it probably does.

A Walk Through Time: The Immersive Historical Detail

For the history buffs out there, Season 2 is a love letter to the past, filled with all the pomp and peril you’d expect from the era. The Elizabethan setting isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a living, breathing character in its own right. Every detail pulls you deeper into this world, from the meticulously crafted costumes to the period-accurate architecture. This historical immersion doesn’t just serve the aesthetics—it enriches the entire narrative, grounding the fantastical elements in a world that feels as real as your own. Unless you know something we don’t, except for the witches and vampires?

The Dark Evolution of Matthew Clairmont

Matthew Clairmont’s past comes back to haunt him with a vengeance, and Matthew Goode’s performance is captivating. He expertly navigates the fine line between restrained intensity and explosive emotion, bringing the character to life with smoldering intensity and magnetic terror. It’s a masterclass in understated menace that makes for some compelling viewing.

Love and Power: The Shifting Dynamics of Matthew and Diana

The relationship between Matthew and Diana remains the beating heart of the series, but in Season 2, it’s fraught with tension from external threats and an evolving power struggle. Diana is no longer the hesitant scholar we met in Season 1—she’s coming into her own, challenging Matthew in ways that shake the foundations of their relationship. The patriarchal backdrop of Elizabethan society adds another layer of complexity, making their love story as much about power as it is about passion. It’s a push and pull that keeps the drama sizzling, and you’ll find yourself invested in every charged exchange.

Blending Fact with Fiction: Historical Figures in the Plot

One of the season’s most delightful tricks is its seamless blending of historical figures with its fictional narrative. Queen Elizabeth I and Christopher Marlowe are more than name-drops—they’re integral to the plot, adding a layer of authenticity that enriches the story. Their interactions with Matthew and Diana aren’t just for show; they’re pivotal to the unfolding drama, offering some of the season’s most electrifying moments. This blending of fact and fiction grounds the supernatural elements in history and sets the series apart from other contemporary fantasy offerings.

A Delicate Balance: Romance and the Supernatural

A Discovery of Witches has always balanced romance with its supernatural elements, and Season 2 is no different. The romantic tension between Matthew and Diana is as intoxicating as ever, but it never overshadows the show’s broader mythos. Instead, the romance enhances the narrative, adding an emotional depth that complements the dark intrigue at the heart of the plot. It’s a careful dance between the heart and the supernatural, and the show pulls it off with aplomb.

Star Performances: Matthew Goode and Teresa Palmer

Matthew Goode and Teresa Palmer continue to anchor the show with stellar performances. Goode brings Matthew Clairmont to life with a smoldering intensity and magnetic terror, while Palmer’s portrayal of Diana Bishop is a revelation. She embodies the character’s transformation with grace and strength, creating an electric dynamic that crackles with every scene. The supporting cast also shines, each actor bringing something unique to the table, further enriching the narrative’s tapestry.

A Visual Feast: The Cinematic Brilliance of Season 2

Visually, Season 2 is a triumph. The cinematography is nothing short of cinematic, with each shot meticulously crafted to enhance the story’s mood and tone. The interplay of light and shadow, the rich color palettes, and the precise camera angles all work harmoniously to create a world that is as visually compelling as it is narratively rich. It’s the kind of show where you could pause at any moment and find a frame worthy of hanging on your wall—a testament to the care and craft that’s gone into every aspect of its production.

Fan and Critic Reactions: Embracing the Darker Narrative

Season 2 has struck a chord with fans and critics alike. The darker, more intricate narrative has been widely praised, with many appreciating the show’s boldness in deepening its themes and expanding its world. The shift to the gritty realism of Elizabethan London has been a particular highlight, adding a fresh dynamic that keeps the series from stagnating. Critics have lauded the show for its character development, atmospheric tension, and historical detail, solidifying its place as a standout in the fantasy genre. It’s a season that doesn’t just continue the story—it elevates it, pushing the boundaries of what a fantasy series can be.

Building on a Solid Foundation: How Season 2 Outshines the First

While Season 1 laid the groundwork, Season 2 takes it to new heights. The progression in tone, plot, and character arcs is evident in every frame, with the creators intent on building something more ambitious and complex. The historical setting, darker themes, and more intense character dynamics contribute to a fresh yet familiar season—a continuation of the story, but one willing to take risks and challenge its audience in new ways.

Delving into Darkness: The Weight of Season 2

The thematic weight of Season 2 is undeniable. It’s not just a stylistic shift—it’s a narrative evolution that delves into the darker corners of its characters’ psyches and the world they inhabit. The exploration of power, betrayal, and control resonates deeper, making the stakes feel higher and the choices more consequential. This isn’t just about good versus evil—it’s about survival, legacy, and lengths to protect what one loves. It’s a season that engages the heart and the mind, leaving you pondering its themes long after the credits roll.

Season 2’s Triumph: A Captivating Blend of Fantasy and History

Ultimately, Season 2 of A Discovery of Witches is a triumph. It’s a masterful blend of fantasy and history, romance and intrigue, all wrapped up in a visually stunning package. The darker, richer narrative pulls you in and refuses to let go, offering an experience as intellectually stimulating as it is emotionally engaging. Whether you’re here for the history, the romance, or the supernatural spectacle, Season 2 delivers on all fronts, leaving you eagerly awaiting what the series has in store next.

[redsparko]

Hopefully this reaches the right audience.

I’d like to talk about Maya Sokolov and her writing and the analysis of what Miss Rina Kent could’ve done with her character and her story. I know Rina said in one of her Insta stories that for sure Remi, Maya, Vaughn, and Gareth were not getting stories. I can be fine with Remi and Vaughn not getting stories (Remi not so much but I can live) while Maya and Gareth I can feel some potential with.

And I get it from Rina’s POV, miss girl has written like 35 books within 3-4 years. And if she feels no passion or connection with certain characters then she won’t write it. I understand and agree with that completely.

It doesn’t mean I won’t have any ideas about it yeah? Even if it’s not canon that’s what makes it fun.

Anyway back to the point, Maya Sokolov and her character

She falls under the lines of the Queen Bee, diva, bitch. Something like Silver, Nicole, and Reina. I absolutely love those three. Personally, Silver should’ve gotten the trilogy, Reina was done dirty lowkey, and Nicole’s story (Empire of Hate) left me with wanting more groveling. But out of the three I found I relate to Nicole more.

It’s the inferiority complex. I love that shit, I have it too, and I eat it up. And that’s clearly scene in Maya too. In the end of GOR it’s referenced/implied/canon that Maya was jealous of Mia and made a monkey’s paw type wish that came true.

There’s something so raw and sad and powerful in that that can and should be shown in Maya’s character (speaking from personal experience) feeling something so negative that it results in an act of hurting another person you REALLY care about because it comes from a place of deep sadness and insecurity.

Maya can act like the biggest girl boss and look at everyone like they’re the dirt beneath her feet (literal quote from GOR) but that does not disguise the fact she can only act like that because no one else will ever hate her more than how she hates herself.

And as readers we can really see it, and even theorize it from in between the lines. In GOF we read about Nikolai’s thoughts about the twins.

There are people saying that GOR ruined the relationship and wished it never happened. I can’t say the execution of it was done well but I can’t say it was a total trash fire either. It’s a 50/50 depending because there are good things I absolutely loved and things that could’ve been improved.

But mostly people are saying that the relationship between Maya and Mia was sabotaged and it would’ve been better if it never happened. I disagree, I prayed for times like this to come—kidding, but the layers of anger and frustration and love in the relationship between them makes the relationship deeper. But we never get to see that in its completion.

Think of Landon and Brandon in GOF. We love them so much because behind that ire and blockage from both sides they came through that and love prevailed. This is why I stand by Rina Kent MALE friendships/relationships. They’re much more complex and thought out than the female friendships which come off as somewhat shallow. I’ll make another rant abt that later.

What I wish was done better was mentioning the difference in Maya, Niko and Mia’s relationship. It’s clear that Niko likes Maya less than Mia. And Maya feels less than Mia because she’s seen that Mia is favored. It’s not Niko’s fault but it’s like an unconscious thing, he’s just closer with her because he sees that he is similar to Mia. It’s a common and natural thing, you’re just closer to people you feel like you can relate with. That checks out.

I feel like even both of Maya’s siblings only see her for what she pushes herself out to be, a shadow diva who sees herself as superior (obviously hiding an inferiority complex). They don’t stop to acknowledge that maybe she’s compensating for something? Especially Nikolai, in that quote saying that he and Mia would fuck up each other’s demons but what abt Maya? You can’t be close to her because she doesn’t have flaws or negative thoughts or demons either?

This feels less like a “it’s Nikolai’s personality” issue and more like a “Rina Kent wrote Maya to be nothing more than her character archetype”

Other than that, I also wanna mention Maya’s relationship with Ilya and how it could enhance her character and dynamics.

Ilya is down to earth, not egotistical like Landon, or notoriously violent or volatile like Nikolai, nor with the high status like Jeremy. He’s a perfect match for Maya.

It’s mentioned by GOR from Mia’s POV that Maya wants someone high status with lots of money (I agree, get it girl slay) but Ilya is not those things. He’s just a bodyguard and the money in comparison isn’t that good. But he can see Maya for who she truly is, someone who is hurt on the inside, insecure and needing some help.

It’s not what she wants but it’s what she needs. She needs someone who won’t isn’t already existing in the circle who prefers Mia to her.

Although I do wanna say that I love the angst in early chapters if Maya felt some jealousy and sadness from believing that Ilya prefers Mia to her (seeing as how Ilya doesn’t regard Maya with the same reverence as other boys do) and he’s actually friendly to Mia while he’s bitchier to Maya. It’s all part of the angst. But endgame wise he would choose Maya cause he sees right through her and is more interested in the true part of her that’s vulnerable and scared to love in fear that the one she loves will love Mia more.