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maple-writes · 4 years ago

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WHG 14: Boat 4

tagging: @concealeddarkness13 (Nesri, Triel, Zenith a little) @ratracechronicler (Rebecca) and @pen-of-roses

so this might be kinda long but oh well

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Asher was already asleep again by the time we got back to our room, small under the heap of blankets he’d buried himself under. Good. He’d been looking tired lately, despite his attempts to try and convince me otherwise. I only half registered when Triel left the room, gone to try and work a time to push the president overboard that would work now that we knew about whatever it was that was making the others think we were their enemies. I sighed and leaned against one of the walls, letting some of the others take the beds. It was all too complicated.

I looked up though when Nesri stood, announcing she was hungry and going to get something to eat and slipping out before anyone could respond. An uneasy feeling like a damp blanket over my shoulders settled in and I kept my eyes on the door. What were the chances she was about to do something rash? Something she didn’t want anyone to know about? I bit at the inside of my lip. She’d told me not to worry, not to get involved but could I? That’s what Asher had said too. I hadn’t listened then and it, it hadn’t been good but what would have happened if I hadn’t shown up?

Rebecca didn’t seem convinced either. “So,” She looked over to me. “Are you buying that whole ‘hungry’ excuse or you think she’s up to something.”

I shook my head. “There’s something going on.” How much should I tell her? I hadn’t told anyone about Asher until it was almost too late… “Don’t tell her I told you this, but she might be in danger. It’s about that magic guy.” I wasn’t going to repeat that mistake again.

She made a face. “Well. I don’t have any magic. But I do have a sword. If one of us’s in danger, we all are.” Finally someone with sense. “Think we should stick our noses in other people’s business?”

“Absolutely.” I pushed off the wall, eyeing her blade. We might need that. “Take the sword, I think she went this way.”

“Hold up.” She turned around and went straight for Elvira for a peck on the cheek. “I’m gonna go meddling.”

Despite the looming dread, I couldn’t help but grin, just a little bit as she came back with her sword after her goodbye kiss. Sweet.

We hurried down hallways looking for where she might have gone, but no luck. Maybe she was just hungry after all. Maybe we were worrying about nothing. But then we turned down an isolated corridor and both of us froze.

Triel pinned Nesri against the wall, her hand tight on her throat and voice menacing. “…What was that, hun? You think I’m lying? How do you know? Are they ever real around you? Do they ever really care? How do you know?” Nesri struggled, but it was in vain.

Triel? I raised my head, standing tall and demanding. “What’s going on?” Was this how Triel treated her crew when no one was looking?

She turned towards us, a friendly smile on her face but her hand still firmly on Nesri’s neck. “Oh, nothing. Just a chat.”

“Looks like it,” Rebecca exaggerated, gripping her sword in a pointed display. “How’s about your remove that hand from that neck or I remove the hand from your arm, pal?”

I couldn’t agree more. Friend or not Triel better do as we asked before both of us took turns wishing she had.

Nesri tried to shout something, but Triel cut her off with a tighter grip and cocked her head. “And why would you care about this broken creature? We took her when she was eight and gave her the magic. She is our property. And she is broken beyond repair. That is why I must take her back.”

Oh no, this wasn’t Triel. This wasn’t Triel. This was Churi.

He laughed over Nesri’s crying. “Oh, you should have seen our artwork.” He rounds to Nesri’s other side, pulling down the top of her collar to show shoulders criss-crossed with scarring. “It’s not as pretty now.”

I was going to kill him.

Rebecca was faster, darting forward and slicing her sword clean through his wrist. But the hand didn’t move, firm like a clamp over Nesri’s neck.

“Now, that was rude.” He reached up and reattached the hand. “As I was saying, what is she to you? How much would you sacrifice for a piece of broken property?”

“Get away from her!” I yelled and lunged, grabbing a handful of his hair and digging my other hand into his arm to pull him back, away from Nesri.

She fell to the floor and Churi slipped my grip. He turned to me, smiling. Too pleased.

“Fine.” His shape shifted, dissolving like mist off a morning pond and rematerializing again into a form that made my stomach twist.

Asher. An exact copy all the way down to the way each hair fell unkept over his face.

He crossed his arms, a cruel glare spreading across his face. “You disgust me,” He spat, “clinging to anyone who tells you pretty lies. You’re so easily deceived. You’re pathetic.” He grinned spreading his arms out to his sides. “Did you think I really loved you, let along Nesri?”

Asher laughed, sharp and jarring and I couldn’t move. He didn’t mean it. He never meant it. But, but… It wasn’t right. There were no horns. No fangs, no claws, just Asher. Just Asher in his most honest state.

“They’ve all been lying to you. They’ll never care about you.” He bent forward at the hip, jeering. “Even Striker. He’d rather you were gone, and I agree with him.” He straightened up again, gesturing loosely to Nesri, still watching from the floor. “Of course you fell for Nesri’s lies; both of you are too scarred to be anything more than a pretty face.”

He’d never been like this looking like that. Just out of nowhere. I swallowed. But it wasn’t Asher, was it? But… But how else, how would Churi know? How would he know if he didn’t, if he didn’t know something about him? How would he know if there wasn’t some truth to it?

Asher dropped his shoulders, looking me straight in they eye. “You worthless excuse for a son. Of course your mother doesn’t want you back. And she never will.” He stepped towards me, again and again until he was almost right against me, staring up with sharp mockery. “You will be along, begging for her forgiveness like you have month after month after month.” He lowered his voice to a cruel hiss. “Don’t you ever wonder why she never responds? Why no one ever comes for you? No one will listen, no one will ever care about you Cirrus.”

For a moment he lingered, watching as if daring me to say something, daring me to try and defend myself. But the words wouldn’t come, couldn’t find their way through my locked jaw.

He drew back, laughing under his breath. “Stop fighting against the inevitable. Give up and help me take the rest of your fake friends into custody. It’s the only thing a pathetic excuse like you can do.”

“Stop.” My voice shook, too much, enough he must have noticed. “Stop that’s, that’s not true.” It wasn’t, it couldn’t be.

But all Asher did was smile, sweet and condescending. “Still trying to pretend like it’s not true. Pathetic.”

He turned to Rebecca and his shape shifted again. He said something to her, something mocking and cruel but I could barely make out what he was saying anymore, staring and trying to pretend my legs didn’t shake. That my throat hadn’t tightened just a little bit. I could still almost see him, standing there in the rain spitting and growling and cursing anything around him.

Churi shifted back into Triel, leaving Rebecca crushed with her sword hanging uselessly in her hand.

“See hun?” Churi turned back to Nesri with Triel’s face. “I own your friends now. I will take anything that you think you can have. You will have nothing. Your once-friends will hate you and hurt you. You are all mine.”

Nesri was still shaking, still cowering on the ground where she’d fallen, but when Churi started to shift again something snapped. Magic buzzed through the air and the next second Churi was gone, tiny crystals littering the floor where he stood.

That was it? I stared at the scattered crystals. He was gone? I shook my head out. Nesri. I turned towards her. “Are you okay?” My voice shook more than I thought, strained out of my throat.

Nesri attempted an unconvincing smile, watching from her spot on the floor. “Don’t worry about me, what about you two?” She took a deep breath, but it didn’t seem to do much to ease her trembling. “It’s my fault anyway. You—you should hate me. I understand. I did something stupid.” Her words came faster, sharper. “I tried to stop him before he hurt any of you, and I only made it worse. I’m a stupid girl who won’t think. Instead I just rush in, damn the consequences.” She cut herself off, guilt wrenching itself hard across her face. “But—are you okay?”

Rebecca still stared at the crystals, stiff and shaken. “I dunno. I dunno if I was okay before, now. I’m all… I just don’t understand.”

“We’re fine, I think.” I tried to even out my voice and stand up straight. Steady myself at least in front of the others. I’d dealt with this before, I could handle it again. First things first we had to get out of the open where anyone could walk in on us. “Come on, lets’ get somewhere out of the way.”

No one spoke as we made our way back to our room. Churi’s words through Asher’s voice kept replaying, replaying overlaid with what he’d said back then by the lake. He’d said it just to hurt me then, he hadn’t meant it then, but then… How would Churi know anything he’d say if Asher hadn’t told him? How? I took a deep breath and tried not to think about it. Later maybe, but not now.

We stepped in through the door and Nesri blurted a rushed “I’m sorry” and all but fled to one of the corners of the room.

The few people in the room glanced between her, me and Rebecca, but stayed quiet. I sighed, soft to myself. What was she apologizing for? She sat, curled in on herself and hiding her head, small and scared. I glanced at Rebecca, but she didn’t seem up to helping just yet. She leaned against the wall, stone faced with a firm grip on the hilt of her sword and a cautious gaze. Maybe it would be best to give her a second to herself, to figure out her thoughts. If she still looked like a stalked rabbit later on I could try saying something to her then.

I left Rebecca by the wall and quietly joined Nesri in the corner, sitting on the ground beside her. As much as I wanted to say something, I couldn’t think of anything. Nothing that would probably make her feel any better anyway. So I just held out a hand, offering it to her if she wanted to take it.

But she ignored it, fresh sobs racking her shoulders and fresh tears running down her still-wet cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for fucking it up. I just wanted to protect you. But I was so terrified of him, I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else. You should hate me.”

Rebecca sighed, her head thumping against the wall she leaned against. “Look. Maybe we should. But I don’t. You fucked up. We all three kinda did. It’s what people do. We fuck up, and then we, uh… Forgive each other.”

I nodded, grateful that she seemed to have a better handle on helpful words right now than I did. “I mean,” I leaned back, “if we didn’t care we wouldn’t have followed you either.”

“I don’t understand. Why do you care? I’m everything he said I was.” Nesri gulped and I did my best to try and hide the way my jaw clenched. “Thank you both so much. I care deeply about you. I haven’t lied to you about that.”

“So does that mean everything he said about us was true too?” If she said whatever he said about her was true, she must imply that it was true about us. I sighed, trying to calm down again, and lowered my voice to something gentler. “Between us, Asher’s said those things to me before. Doesn’t mean it was true. Doesn’t mean he meant it.” So it doesn’t mean whatever words he put in Triel’s mouth would be true either.

Nesri tried another smile. “You wanna spar to blow off steam?”

She was trying to deflect that, wasn’t she? I shook my head. “Absolutely not.” She wasn’t going to convince me everything was fine that easily.

Her face squished. “You’re a meanie.”

“Hey, so, Elvira says…” Rebecca blurted. “That someone can get forgiven when the person they hurt or wronged or whatever—or even if you just think you hurt or wronged them—when they don’t expect anything else from you in order to write that wrong. So, I think what we need to do here is… Tell each other what we need from each other so that we can trust each other, really trust each other and not worry about whether we’re using each other or secretly don’t care or whatever. What do we need to do or say or promise? Does that make sense?” She paused, suddenly looking embarrassed. “Or do you not wanna do that?”

Nesri smiled again. “I think it’s a wonderful idea, and I’ll do anything you need me to. But you two don’t need my forgiveness. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And what she did wasn’t some grave sin either. It was stupid, but it wasn’t like she meant for any of this to happen. For Rebecca’s sake though I kept quiet. If It was going to make her feel better so be it.

“Well, I’d love some sort of affirmation that I’m accepted even though I’m not all bright or proper, y’know, just a little something to boost the ol’ spirits after getting dragged by a monster wearing my ex’s face instead of everyone pretending I’m perfect and I never do nothing wrong, which I do, so it’s making me more suspicious, but that’s beside the point.” She sounded sarcastic, but at the same time I was glad I held off on protesting. “Anyways. I think demanding that you don’t go off on your own or whatever is kinda against the whole thing. You want independence. From those creeps, the uh,” she faltered a moment until she remembered, “Shades, and I want that for you too. So I won’t ask you not to go off after them… And it sounds like there’s more, and you’ll have to deal with them, and maybe the rest of us will, too. So what I’m going to ask you to do is stop beting yourself up againb it, first of all. Blaming yourself for what they’re doin’s just gonna weaken you, and you’re our best shot at stopping them, so that’s not helping anyone. Second of all , just… Let us know what we can do to help. What we can do to fight them. If you don’t know anything now, that’s fine, but, like, if you learn anything that’ll help us non-magical folks stand a chance against those guys, let us know. And if you do go after them, maybe try to have some sort of plan.” She snorted at the last part. “That’s what I’m asking of you. What do you think?”

Nesri nodded. “I just mean, in this moment, you didn’t do anything wrong, following someone who was going to get herself hurt. I mean, you certainly aren’t perfect. We’ve still got to work on your popcorn-catching skills.” She smiles again, a little more sincere this time, but it fell again. “I’ll try to not beat myself up. But it might take a little while. I don’t know how normal people can fight against the Shades. I didn’t even know I could use my magic on them. But if I find anything out, I’ll let you know. And I’m not the best at making plans, so I’ll consult you before rushing in.”

Clearly, she wasn’t lying about that last part.

It seemed enough for Rebecca, and satisfied, she came up to us and offered Nesri a hand. “And I’ll come to you for lessons in popcorn martial arts. Thanks Nesri. I officially forgive you.” She shook her hand and glanced at me. “And what about you?”

Right, my turn. I crossed my arms, trying to come up with something that Rebecca hadn’t already said, but there wasn’t a lot left. “I think you beat me to it.” Then I sighed, turning to Nesri. I couldn’t help but remember another conversation I’d had, with Asher, where maybe I hadn’t been direct enough. “I don’t want you to think you have to face anything alone. Don’t just brush off whenever someone offers to help you.” Anger made me cross my arms tighter, creeping into my voice. “And don’t just pretend everything’s fine just to make us feel better.” I could have went on, but stopped myself with a glance up at Rebecca. “Is that too much?”

“I’ll,” she nodded, “I’ll try. You might have to remind me though.”

“Anything we can do to help,” Rebecca said.

Nesri started to cry again, tears welling and her breath catching. “Thank you so much.”

“Okay, what the hell happened?”

I looked up as Triel stood arms crossed in front of us. Uncharacteristic panic flashed across her face as she stood, looking down at us expecting an answer.

“Shit.” Nesri quickly stopped crying, pushing it back as she stood up. “Churi was on the yacht, so I felt I had to confront him, and Rebecca and Cirrus were suspicious of what I was going, so they followed me. But we’re not hurt.” She was smiling too wide, too nonchalant.

“Except the psychological trauma,” Rebecca chimed in. “We’re working on it.” Thank goodness for her bluntness. Straight to the point without letting Nesri dance around it.

Triel’s eyes widened and she looked back to Nesri. “You waited until I was busy on purpose, didn’t you? Shit, Nesri.” She sighed and glanced at me and Rebecca. “I’m sorry about that. I probably should have briefed everyone on what the Shades could do. It slipped my mind. Do you need anything.”

That was a pretty big slip of the mind, but nothing could be done about that now. I shrugged. “Some help talking sense into her?” It would be the next best thing.

“Hey!” Nesri gave me a light punch in the arm.

Rebecca brightened like a lightbulb went off in her head. “Can we maybe hunt down some popcorn?”

Triel laughed and assured us it would be done before disappearing to wherever someone was supposed to get some popcorn around here. Nesri sat down somewhere and I decided to give her some time alone this time, now that she’d seemed to calm down a little bit. Instead I laid out on one of the beds, stretching my arms up and behind my head until Triel returned.

She went straight for Nesri, putting a hand on her shoulder and speaking softly to her. I sat up, only half watching as Nesri replied. Something still nagged at the back of my mind, something nervous. As much as I knew Churi wasn’t Triel, I could still see her with her hand on Nesri’s throat threatening her and demeaning her in the hall.

When Triel sighed she spoke a little louder. “Why the fuck would you think that no one cares about you? Shine doesn’t throw machine parts at just anyone. I don’t give flattering nicknames to just anyone. And these idiots woud’nt go after you because they were concerned if they didn’t care. IF you let those lifes poison you, I really will make you as seductive as a fish next time I dress you up.”

“I heard that,” I crossed my arms at Triel, but the tension eased from my shoulders. That sounded the like the Triel we’d gotten used to. “The idiot part. Everything else is true though.” Nothing like Churi.

Elvira entered with popcorn in hand and the mood shifted to an exhausted relief. Almost as soon as she had it, Nesri returned to her popcorn-throwing ways. She and Rebecca hashed it out and this time I reluctantly joined in. On Rebecca’s side. Altercation with a demon or not, we weren’t going to let her win this time.

Zenith and Asher returned from preventing Lynn and Lynne from escaping just as the war was winding down, both of them surprised and frozen for a moment before they figured out what was going on. Whatever they’d done, according to Asher it’d been a success, and they were still on the ship safe and sound.

Eventually the popcorn stopped flying and I sat back down, leaving Rebecca and Nesri to discuss whatever throw strategics there were. The heaviness settled back on my shoulders and I turned to stare up and out of the little window to the late afternoon sky. How many Shades were there? Could there be more still on this boat that none of us even knew about? I leaned against the side of the bunk. How did he know about what Asher had said? How did he know? It wasn’t true, right? It still wasn’t true.

Someone sat next to me, close enough our arms brushed together as I sat up again. Asher. He leaned forward and tried to find my face, eyes dark and tired.

“Hey,” he whispered, “Are you okay?”

I sighed. How did he always know? “I’ll be alright.”

He thought for a moment, eyes flickering from me to Nesri and Rebecca. “Did something happen?”

“Let’s take a walk.” I stood, watching as Asher followed. If we were going to talk about it, I didn’t want to do it here.

In the main room people still milled about for the after-dinner programming hosted by the man who seemed to have all but a monopoly on the hosting business. I thought I saw Asher shoot him a glare when he thought I wasn’t looking, but if he did he stopped as soon as I noticed, going back to picking up a slice of cake from the table. We found a standing table by a corner, where most were passively watching the performances or staring deep into someone else’s eyes across untouched drinks. No one would be paying much attention to us here.

Asher took a bite of his cake and looked up at me. “So, what happened?”

I took a long sip of my drink, an overly milky latte with too much cinnamon. “I don’t even know.” I set it down on the table, but kept my hand on the edge. I ran my finger up and down the ceramic. How much should I tell him? Nesri probably didn’t want everyone to know or she would have told them herself. “It’s between Nesri and someone else. We handled it though.”

He nodded, cutting out another piece of cake with the side of his fork. In the dim overhead lights he looked exhausted, dark circles starting to show under his eyes, shoulders rounded and head down. His face was starting to look gaunt too, the lines just a little sharper than they were the day of the reaping. It had been weeks now since then, hadn’t it? How had it been that long?

“Did you get hurt?” Asher looked up again. “When it happened?”

“No, not really.” I took a deep breath, staring over his head at the crowd gathering around some new platter being presented at the serving tables.

He didn’t seem convinced, poking at his dessert for a moment as if thinking of how he wanted to say something. When he finally did speak it was quiet, unsure. “You haven’t looked me in the eye since I got back with Zenith.”

Hadn’t I? I tried to bury the guilt gnawing at my stomach with the latte, but it didn’t work. He was right, wasn’t he? I’d barely greeted him when he returned, and all but ignored him after that. But what could I say? What could I say that wouldn’t worry him, wouldn’t make him feel like he had to help me? I set my drink down again with a long sigh. Was I a hypocrite, for telling Nesri not to pretend everything was fine and not even attempting to do the same?

“Listen, I don’t want to get into it,” I mumbled, probably hardly loud enough for him to hear clearly. “Into what happened I mean. But you don’t hate me, right?” I all but winced. What a stupid question.

“What?” Asher’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open until he spoke again. “No, no of course not. Never. Who told you that?”

I shrugged. “Some bastard who was after Nesri.” I rested my elbows on the table and leaned forward, balancing the side of my head in my hand. “A shapeshifter. He turned into you and said, well he said a lot of things and I, I think I know none of them are true but…” I sighed again. “It hurt. I know you never mean it when you say those things, when you need some help, but it, I wasn’t expecting it.”

Asher nodded, almost to himself. His eyes dropped and he sighed. “I’m sorry, I really am, for putting you through that.” He looked up again, hair falling dark in front of his face despite all Triel had done to try and style it. “Whatever he told you though, whatever I say like that, it’s not true. You’re my best friend Cirrus. I don’t know what he said to you, but I don’t hate you. You’re not awful.” He smiled, shoulders dropping. “You’re patient at the very least, dealing with my problems this long.”

I didn’t answer right away, letting my gaze wander over the other guests. He was right, I knew he was, but it was nice to hear him say it. Hear him say something like that after what Churi had said with his voice. He hadn’t changed his mind about me, hadn’t been keeping anything from me. It’d been stupid even to worry about it. He’d never been good at hiding what he felt. Not as good at it as he thought he was anyway. If he didn’t like me, I’d know. Nesri though, I didn’t know. He’d said Nesri’d lied to me, that she’d never care for me.

My latte was near cold by now but I kept drinking it anyway. “He said something about Nesri too.” Why was I telling him this? This was stupid. “Do you think she actually likes being around me or is she lying to get me to trust her?”

“Really?” Asher laughed, quiet and under his breath but enough I could still hear over the speakers on the other end of the room. “She’s been bugging you for attention this long and you’re not sure if she likes you?”

Maybe it was a dumb question, but cautious doubt still lingered. “Okay, fine, but she could just be like that with everyone.”

Asher pointed his fork at me. “Not with me. We hardly talk. She’s nice to everyone but you don’t see her chasing them around all the time.” He stuck his fork back into his cake with a boyish grin. “You like her don’t you?”

I almost choked on my latte. “What?”

“Come on, you think I didn’t notice?” Asher’s grin widened and he leaned over the table. “I’ve only ever seen you blushing when you have a crush.”

Was it that obvious? Cursing myself, I could feel myself flushing yet again and could only hope the low light would hide it. But he was right. Again.

“Are you going to tell her?” Asher asked.

I look away. “I don’t know.” Would it even be worth it? What if I was wrong, or if she didn’t feel the same way?

Asher took another stab at his desert. “She seems to like you.” He shrugged. “Even if she doesn’t I can’t see her being mean about it.”

Maybe. “I’ll think about it.”

He seemed happy enough with that, going back to finishing the last few bites of his cake. As he finished, he glanced up at the stage set up across the room and Ceasar playing host to some kind of programming.

“Cirrus,” he started quiet. “Can I ask you a favor?” His eyes flicked to me as I nodded, trying to figure out where he was going. “Tomorrow when we’re escaping, I want to scare him a little. I’m not going to push it too far but I might need you to come get me when it’s time to go.”

I followed his gaze, watching Ceasar on stage. Toying with him certainly did sound like fun especially after his role in terrorizing Lynne, Amy, Lynn and the rest of us. “Sure.” I nodded, turning back to him. But then Churi’s words ran through my head again and I sighed. “Just, try not to do or say anything fucked up in front of Nesri, okay? She’s had a hard time.”

“Of course.” Asher nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Good enough. I finished my latte with another glance at Ceasar. As much as I probably shouldn’t be encouraging Asher to take risks like this, I liked the idea of shaking the performer up a little bit. It was just too bad I’d be too busy tomorrow to see it for myself.

I probably should have gone for decaf. Everyone had gone to sleep ages ago, Asher curled up and sleeping with his back warm against my side. With so many of us to one room there wasn’t much choice other than to share beds but it wasn’t that bad. Staring up at the bunk above me, I’d been trying to sleep for what felt like hours. At least sharing a bed with Asher told me what I already knew, that he didn’t hate me. If he didn’t, and wanted nothing to do with me he wouldn’t have chosen to share with me instead of someone else, Zenith maybe. If he hated me he wouldn’t be all but lying on my arm.

On the other side of the row, someone sat up, quiet in the dark. I squinted for a moment before I recognized Nesri’s silhouette and propped myself up on one elbow. “Can’t sleep?” It didn’t take a genius to guess why she might still be awake.

She shook her head. “I think I might need some fresh air. If you can’t sleep too, why don’t you join me?”

“Gladly.” It wasn’t like I was getting to sleep any time soon either. I slipped out from under the blanket, gently laying it down over Asher so he hopefully wouldn’t notice I’d left. “It’s too stuffy in here.”

We ducked out of the door and into the quiet hall, just the two of us. Alone. No one else. I tucked my hands into my pockets, thinking back to what Asher’d said. She’d invited me along, did that mean he was right? That she liked me too? Or was I overthinking this?

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” Nesri broke our silence, soft and caring. “Are you doing okay?”

I sighed, quiet and almost to myself. “I’ll be alright.” And I would, this wasn’t the first time something like this had gone wrong. “There’s just… There’s a lot to think about.”

She smiled up at me. “I could help you forget it.” She said as she bumped my arm with her shoulder.

My heart skipped and my words failed. What did she mean? Even in the low night lights of the hall I could faintly see red creeping into her cheeks. I smiled, hunching over to be closer to her eye-level. “Have anything in mind?”

“I—I…” She blushed deeper and her eyes wandered everywhere but mine. “You know what? We could throw popcorn at the fish!”

Popcorn again, I should have knon. Still, “could be fun.” My smile stayed. It did sound nice, both of us on the water. “This time of night we might have the deck to ourselves.”

Not many seemed to be up this late as we found a little popcorn and walked together toward the open air upper deck. Nesri passed the bag to her one hand, and tentatively reached for mine with the other. I hesitated, nervous and melting at the same time. Slowly, I held her hand back. It was warm in mine, softer than I would have thought.

We stepped out onto the deck, lit up with soft lighting running along the underside of the railings and the far-off glow of the Capitol’s lights on the shore. Our footsteps dinged softly against the metal and the boat rocked in the gentle waves as we found a spot along a secluded railing. Nesri threw the first piece, watching it fall all the way down to the inky water. Something moved and maybe it was a small fin that breached the surface and the kernel got sucked down so maybe there were fish to feed after all. I joined in, only half paying attention to where I was throwing between trying not to be too obvious with my glances at Nesri. She looked so happy, leaning over the edge of the railing to watch shadowy fish snap up our offerings. She shifted, leaning against my side instead. I laid my arm over her shoulders and went to rest my head against hers but she suddenly stiffened and pulled away.

She sucked in a deep breath and couldn’t look right at me. “I—I’m not as put together as I seem. The Shades—they tortured me mentally but also physically. You saw a little bit but it’s all down my back, my stomach, my upper arms.” Was she talking about the scaring? “I’m broken. I’m not pretty. You’d probably be scared off if you saw my scars. So, I wanted to tell you.”

If she thought that way about hers, what would she think of mine? My face fell and I turned away, leaning against the railing. “I guess that makes two of us then.” Was I lying to her, deceiving her by not telling her? I took a deep breath before I could talk myself out of it. “I had a run in with Asher’s father once. He burned me, and it…” I hesitated. “I try not to look at it too much.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.” Nesri took another sharp breath. “We were supposed to be trying to get our minds off of painful stuff, and here I go—” She cut herself off and attempted a smile. “For the record, I wouldn’t think you’re any less handsome.”

“Easy to say.” I mumbled. Of course she would say that. She didn’t know what I looked like and she didn’t want me to feel bad. I pushed off the railing and faced her. “May a well just get it over with.” If she was going to change her mind I’d rather she do it sooner rather than later.

I undid the buttons on my shirt far enough to show the scarring across the left side of my chest. I should have been grateful it healed as well as it did and I still had decent movement where it crossed my shoulder, but it was still so obvious. So prominent. Nesri tentatively brushed her fingers over it and I looked away. I didn’t want to see her face, her reaction.

But even just out of the corner of my eye I could see her shake her head. “You’re still as handsome as before.” She breathed, mind not changed, nothing changed.

Before I could say anything though, she backed up a little and pulled up the edge of her shirt. “Showing all of them would be a little inappropriate, but here’s most of them.”

Her stomach and back looked almost like more scar than skin, old knife wounds haphazardly inflicted. I couldn’t help but stare. They were everywhere, some looking like they must have at one point been deeper than others, but still scarred the skin. How long had she been tormented like that? No wonder just seeing Churi shook her like that. Who could do something like that?

“You survived all that?” I tore my gaze away from her scars and looked up at her face, trying to hide some of the horror at the thought of what that must have been like. “That’s… That must have been hard.” And to still be optimistic as she was today?

“Seven years of it. They thought I should get special torture because they couldn’t control me as easily as they could the others.” She let her shirt down and threw the last of the popcorn into the water before squeezing her eyes shut. “But I understand if you don’t want to be around me. I—I think I might like you, but it’s fine.”

My breath caught, trapping anything I would have been able to say. She really liked me? I shuffled closer, gently draping my arm over her shoulders. When she didn’t stiffen this time, I held her, warm against my side. Did she really think I wouldn’t like her if I knew how she’d looked, what she’d been through? Had I been stupid to think she would change her mind about me for the same reasons? Maybe.

The boat turned, changing direction on it’s seemingly endless loop around the harbor. Twinkling lights shone from the shore, towering high on buildings and catching Nesri between them and the soft glow from the railings. Some of the makeup had smeared around her eyes since our dance, after getting caught by Churi, after everything that happened tonight. As pretty and shiny as it had been all in place under the hall lights, there was something so, endearing, so personal. How she’d let me be there when everything went wrong and hadn’t tried to hide it away this time.

I smiled, warmth finally melting away my frozen voice. “You know, when we danced earlier, that was my first kiss as a human.”

She blinked, flustered and wide eyed. “W-well, I hope you didn’t hate it.”

“Well I didn’t. It was nice.” I swallowed and took a breath, trying to keep up my nerve. “Except for the location.”

She hesitated, maybe even thinking the same thing I had. “Would this be a better location?”

Was this happening? I lowered my head a little. “Much better.”

“Uh. Now? Or…” She glanced down at the bag in her hand. “I guess throwing popcorn at fish isn’t entirely romantic.”

I guess not. “I don’t know.” A nervous laugh bubbled up before I could stop it. “I’m not so good at this.” I’d never gotten this far. What came next?

“Well, I wasn’t either with Kiryth,” she babbled, starting to fluster as much as I felt. “Triel said that’s hwy it didn’t work. But Triel’s also said there’s a trick, and she told me about it.” She gave me a nervous look, as if not sure what came next either.

“A trick?” I blinked. If Triel came up with chances are it was legit. “She does seem to know a few things.”

A heartbeat later and her hands gripped my shirt collar. She brushed her fingers over the skin and pulled me down and kissed me. I froze, heat flooding my face, but quickly kissed her back and wrapped my arms around her, warm and close. For now it didn’t matter we were stuck on some hellish yacht party, that tomorrow could go any kind of way, for now it was just us.

#whg 14 #writeblr hunger games #cirrus

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chimichangacongaline · 5 years ago

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I'm new to the Ghost fandom and honestly how the hell do y'all tell them masked guys apart

ohh boy do i have the answer for you my ghoulfriend

lets start with my favorite boy, the nastiest himself, Dewdrop!

Dew can usually be seen stomping, playing aggressively, bullying Aether, licking anything from his fingers, to his guitar, to his guitar picks, and yes, sometimes aether. he is the lead guitarist and plays this smooth white guitar! he’s also the littlest and skinniest of the ghouls but he makes up for it in attitude

lets go with Aether next, Aether is definitely the thickest and beefiest of our ghouls and we love him, he likes to fool around on stage as much as dew, they play dueling guitars, he likes to make sure the other ghouls get equal attention too and plays along with dewdrop bullying him to an extent, its a game mostly, Aether is secondary guitar and wears a ring on each middle finger and a chain bracelet on his wrist, he plays the black glossy guitar that matches Dews, hes a big sweetie and can contribute to vocals

next lets go with Rain, Rain can usually be seen doing something flamingo like with his leg, he used to be really shy on stage but he’s opened up so much and gets much more into it, Rain can be seen wearing two rings on his hand and occasionally walks up to play with Dew and Aether together, but they really get into it when it comes time to play Square Hammer, Rain plays a slick white bass and boy is he good at it

next lets go with Swiss, also known as Multi, hes referred to as both because hes like a swiss army knife, a jack of all trades because he plays many instruments as needed, bass, guitar, acoustic, tambourine,lends to vocals (which are amzing) ect. this ghoul loves to shimmy and dance and croon to the audience and when i say we all love Swiss i MEAN IT that ghoul can move, we love it and he knows we love it, and im not gonna lie, swiss is built well all around hes got a nice butt, legs, arms, ect. he also takes nasty lessons from dew. naughty.

next lets go with Mountain! Mountain is the drummer, our tallest ghoul, almost never wears shoes when hes on set but who cares, hes one hell of a drummer, but almost never pops up, its a special moment when he does and we all love when he does, he almost never wears his tail coat because why restrict him when playing, his shirt is usually a little looser too, Swiss can be seen playing with him on big clear, heck i dunno ill call em drums too (i didnt major in percussion in band ok.) and they get really into it together, i love my drummer boy, i want to see more of him!

next, our Ghoulettes! Cirrus ghoulette first, this ghoulette jams out on her keyboard/keytar and percussion as needed, her solo in Mummydust is killer, everything about her is incredible, shes a sweetheart who likes to jam with her fellow ghouls and lemme tell you personally this ghoul has curves for days, shes a stunner, i cannot say enough about how much i love her, people also refer to her as “Tall Ghoulette” because shes very tall and its great

last up we have Cumulus Ghoulette! also referred to as “small ghoulette” because shes so teeny tiny and cute! shes the smallest of all the ghouls but makes up for it in attitude just as much as the others, she stands by Cirrus and plays hand held percussion, if im not wrong she also lends to vocals, she is thicc thicc t h i c c. shes great, just like Cirrus, Cumulus has curves for days that could kill a ghoul and they will. along with her being so little her mask is also a bit big for her and its cute af, we love our ghoulettes

i hope this helps you! i love all the ghouls equally but im sure you can pick out whos my faves

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #long post #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #swiss ghoul #cumulus ghoul #cirrus ghoul

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royalcordelia · 6 years ago

Text

If the Sea Should Part (5/5 + Epilogue)

Summary: Anne finds herself caught up in whirl of romance and adventure after rescuing Dr. Gilbert Blythe from the sea during a storm. She should let him go, but when she finds out Billy Andrews is plotting to take Gilbert’s life and estate, she realizes there’s nothing that can keep her from protecting him.

A/N: I want to thank you guys all the love you guys gave this story. I’m steadily becoming a person who finishes multichap fics (36k total, can you believe??) and it’s because you all are so kind and supportive. Special thanks to the ever lovely @hecksinki who basically sacrificed her first born for this fic and to @remylebub who left me the best motivating comments and understood the writing struggle.

• Rated G+ • 12k words • Read on ao3 • Read on ff.net •

“I don’t know, Anne, I think you should have let him buy you the dress,” Diana said with a quirk in her eyebrow. Her pretty, round eyes were focused on the auburn gold strands of Anne’s hair as she stuck pins in strategic locations. “Let the man who loves you spoil you a little!”

“He does spoil me,” Anne argued, watching Diana work in the vanity mirror. “Almost too much. He pays me a teaching salary that is more than what any schoolmarm on the Island earns, I’m sure. He doesn’t ask me to pay for my board, meals, other necessary expenses. I couldn’t ask him to buy me a gown for this ball when I have a more than sufficient amount saved away. And that’s after I sent some home Marilla and Mrs. Lynde.”

“The eleven-year-old Anne I knew would be kicking you in the foot right now. You’ve become very practical.”

Anne laughed. It felt so good to have Diana here with her, finally together in the home that she loved, at the charity ball she’d helped organize. The distance between them had felt great over the past months, and letters fell dreadfully short to the real thing.

“I have become practical haven’t I? I hardly recognize myself sometimes, but then I take the boys out to learn about the weather or go walking with Gil through the woods and I’m Anne the Dreamer all over again. Perhaps that is what it is to grow up?”

“I’m glad you’ve found someone who lets you be yourself,” Diana replied, pulling back and examining her work for small mistakes. “I can’t wait to meet him. Is he really as handsome as they say?”

Anne blushed, tucking her shy smile into her hands and looking away.

“Tease all you want, Diana, but when you meet your Prince Charming tonight, you can expect to be paid back sevenfold.”

With a dramatic sigh, Diana crossed Anne’s warm seaside room to where her bag was positioned on the window seat.

“I’d endure a lifetime of your teasing if it meant I could find a man like yours, Anne. Tell me, is kissing a man as terribly breathtaking as the storybooks said?”

“Yes,” Anne said quietly. “But the ones that make you weak are the ones when you’re completely alone.”

“Anne Shirley! You mean to tell me you’ve been kissing Dr. Blythe alone to the point of weakened knees!?” Diana spun around, her bag’s search quickly forgotten.

“He’s often busy!” Anne quickly defended. “So when we see each other, he’ll pull me into some quiet corner that shields us.” Seeing that this explanation did not aid her case, she quickly began to pack away her hair supplies. Diana merely rose her brow at Anne and continued looking through her traveling bag.

When she turned around, she held a long narrow box in her palm. “I know you didn’t ask for me to bring this, but I thought I might just in case.”

“What is it, dearest?” Anne said, rising to meet her.

“Uh uh uh, Anne-girl, stay put. It’s princess treatment tonight.”

With a humble smile, the redheaded royal turned to face the front, examining the reflection as if it were a long lost friend, so long lost that she almost seemed like a stranger. Who was that beautiful, dignified woman that stared back at her with mystified eyes. Who was she, with the sunset spun curls pinned atop her head and the face of ivory?

When Diana fell in place behind her, she realized the contents of the box.

“The pearls Matthew gave me,” she whispered reverently. “How did you know they would match the dress?”

Diana brought the string of rare jewels over Anne’s neck, clasping it in the back and letting them fall gently across the expanse of Anne’s throat.

“Pearls partner well with anything, dearest. There’s one more thing.” Anne peered over her shoulder at her friend, but Diana only shrugged and pulled out another box, this one the size of a matchbox. “I was told to give you this. It’s from Doctor Blythe.”

Anne hesitated to open it, wondering if maybe having a wealthy man wasn’t as satisfying as she had dreamed it would be. After all, he’d gone to all this trouble for her? And what did she have to give to him? She forced herself to take a deep breath, exhaling so hard that the curls on the side of her face flew up. Love wasn’t about things . Anne knew that, and Gilbert did too. The tiny box with its darling mysteries wasn’t a present for the sake of gift-giving, and that’s why Anne finally lifted the lid.

It was an oval cameo brooch of a gentle pastel pink. In the middle, carved out bright ivory shell was a bouquet of lilies-of-the-valley. Anne brought the beloved treasure up closer to her face as she found more and more details - each little protruding petal, each wilting leaf.

“It’s beautiful, Anne. Would you like to wear it?” Diana prodded gently, knowing that Anne might need some guidance out of the dreamland of her mind. Anne blinked and smiled.

“I do believe I will wear it,” she said.

“I was wondering why he hadn’t sent you flowers,” Diana mused. “I suppose in his own way, he has.”

Anne felt the evidence of her own lovesickness show on her face, not caring in the slightest if Diana saw just how taken she was. With an almost shameful amount of pride and satisfaction, she pinned the brooch to the front of her mint green gown. It matched perfectly the applique flowers of the same blushy, white tones and for a moment Anne was unsure if she was looking at herself or if some fairy like queen had replaced her. Her brooch was prominent in its regality above her left breast. Let the world see that the kind hearted, beloved doctor was hers! She’d sing it to anyone who asked, a joyous song of how good it felt to love, and to be loved in return.

*#*#*

It was Anne’s idea that the schoolboys help decorate the estate in preparation for its company. When they’d gone into the fields earlier in the day to pluck flowers, she’d been the recipient of about half a dozen Do we have to? s and Picking flowers is for ninnies! However, dutiful, soft hearted Paul Irving led by example, impressing teacher with his enchanting arrangement. Soon, all the boys were begrudgingly - yet secretly somewhat enjoying - combing through the tall grass for hidden gems that would make teacher smile. Now the house was lined with them, a sight to behold for even extravagant company.

Guests were already beginning to pour in from the long driveway, a dozen carriages a minute carrying Eastern Canada’s most prestigious elite. At the top of the stairwell, Anne watched the women’s skirts swirl across the floor like wispy cirrus clouds, suddenly overcome with the fragrance of expensive perfume.

Dr. Gilbert Blythe stood in his wide entryway, welcoming guests personally as they entered. He’d told Anne he’d be wearing his best suit, making it hard for her to picture if his other suits, with their starched perfection, weren’t his best. Sure enough, every stitch of Gilbert’s attire was finely sewn, fitted to each line and contour of him. He’d slicked back his rebellious brown curls so that they matched the rest of his refined appearance.

“Is that him?” Diana asked beside her in an amazed murmur. Gilbert chose that moment to catch sight of the women there at the top of the stairs, and the pretense of hospitality left his face. In that moment, Anne felt the Selene to Gilbert’s Endymion - the picture of glowing illuminance gazed upon in surrendering devotion.

“Yes,” Anne said with a joyous smile as they began to descend. “Come Diana, there is someone I’d like you to meet.”

He met them there with a courteous bow, though his eyes never left the redheaded dryad dressed in green.

“You’re breathtaking, Anne,” he murmured with a honeyed voice. Anne could feel the gravitation between them, magnetic and strong, allowing Gilbert to take her lightly into his arms and press a kiss to her cheek. He lingered there, long enough that Anne could get a trace of his spicy, earthy scent. He leaned back, holding Anne’s pale in his own. “You must be Miss Barry! It’s an honor to meet the object of Anne’s high esteem.”

“Dr. Blythe, I had intended to say the same to you. Thank you for inviting me tonight. It’s been some time since I’ve been somewhere quite so beautiful.”

Before the good doctor could say his charming reply, Mr. Laurents came up and whispered something in his ear. Gilbert’s grip tightened on Anne’s hand as he looked up at the butler with furrowed brows.

“And Bash has already spoken with them?” he asked.

“Twice, and Mrs. LaCroix did too,” Laurents answered.

Sensing her eyes on the back of his neck, Gilbert turned to Anne.

“The boys have decided they don’t want to come out and face the guests tonight,” he explained. Understanding ran through Anne, and for a few seconds she was back at the orphan asylum with pitying families staring down at her as if she were an injured dog up for adoption. “I just hoped they’d come out so that the guests would see them as boys and not the moral less rabble they are thought to be.”

“Would you like me to go speak with them? I might be able to change their minds.”

“No, I’d like to speak to them. Men to men. Besides, I’m an orphan too, you know. You and Diana enjoy the party. I hear the food is delicious, Mary has been planning the menu for days.”

“I want to help, Gil. How about I stay and welcome the guests?”

The doctor let out a relieved sigh, a weight lifting off of his shoulders.

“Darling, you are astounding.” He paused, his fingers rubbing against the palms of his own hands as an odd expression crossed over him. “I’ve something to tell you. May I steal you away for just a moment before we get swept up in ball pleasantries and dances?”

“Of course,” Anne said, a hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “Are you alright?”

Without response, he gave a nod to Diana, took Anne’s hand, and led her down one of the quiet hallways. Only a few of the wall lamps were lit, reminding Anne of all the moments they’d spent in the dusk together. Before Anne could question just what the meaning of their sudden escape was, she was being swept behind a marble pillar and held in the warmth of his hands. A gasp escaped her as his dark eyes ran up at down the sides of her waist. His eyes searched hers, a silent question of May I?

Anne’s response was her hands falling gently behind his neck, her fingers tugging the ends of his curls in the way that made him keen. She pushed herself up onto her toes, but Gilbert met her halfway, capturing her lips in a kiss that rivaled all the came before it. The soft lines of her were pressed against his firm chest, a feeling of being enraptured that swept Anne off her feet and made her lean into him even more.

“Why the sudden ardour, doctor?” she asked the second he freed her lips to taste the skin behind her neck, chest heaving against his. His answer came in between kisses, a finger trailing up her spine. Sparks erupted with this touch, and Anne could only succumb to the pleasure of it.

“Because, my love, you are the most beautiful creature I’ve seen. Because you’re easily one of the most intelligent, brave, strong people I know. Because this marvelous, important night we have planned was your idea, and it’s going to be a thrilling success. I’m...happy and proud beyond words.” He ran the back of his fingers down the sides of her torso, grazing the swell of her breast and settling on her waist. “But most of all, I pulled you away because I’ve been too busy today to show you how much I love you.”

“I surely haven’t forgotten,” Anne retorted, half-heartedly.

“Surely not, but only because of my steady reminders. Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” she beamed. “It gives me a chance to give some reminders of my own.”

Gilbert’s eyes darkened, but before he could lose himself in another passionate moment, he pulled himself back and offered his hand to her.

“I hear there are some boys that need some inspiration. You and I have important posts to return to.”

Ignoring the flush on her skin under each freckle that Gilbert had kissed, Anne straightened her back to refine herself, and let him pull her back away into the boisterous hall.

*#*#*

Anne met more people greeting them as they flooded into the estate than she suspected lived in Avonlea. As she shook what felt like the hundreth hand to walk in that minute, she remembered that Gilbert had mentioned that he knew each one of the guests. Most of them I know personally, he had said. You wouldn’t believe the amount of people I know, it’s exhausting. Anne suddenly understood, and she’d only been welcoming for twenty minutes. The rush of people seemed to be arriving, a tide of extravagance, wide skirts, and jewels.

Before she could be swept away into the sea of wealth, Anne’s eyes fell on a resplendent woman stepping into the hall as if she’d been here a thousand times before. She had kind eyes of moonshine blue and dark black hair that rivaled even Diana’s. She was the Cordelia of Anne’s childhood imaginations, radiant in beauty and poise.

Anne was just about offer her warmest, if not utterly star struck, welcome, when the women rushed up to her.

“Good evening, miss. I was wondering if you might know where Doctor Blythe is. I simply must speak with him,” she said in a saccharine voice that suited only those of the utmost loveliness.

“I’m afraid he’s disposed at the moment. Are you ill, dear?” Anne replied. The woman was quick to shake her head, but frowned as she struggled to find the right words. A memory flashed in Anne’s mind of a similar situation that brought her here, though she hadn’t looked nearly as enchanting in such a state. She reached for the woman’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ll go find him for you. Whom may I ask is calling?”

The woman took a comforted breath, a thankful smile on her face.

“My name is Christine Stuart. I’m the doctor’s fiance.”

Anne’s heart turned to stone, the rest of her body following as she froze where she stood. Slowly, she dropped Christine’s hand and took a small step back.

“I’m sorry...I must have misunderstood,” Anne said in a voice that was not her own. Christine gave a kind smile.

“Not many people know, it’s been quite some time since it began. Who might you be, dear?”

Anne opened her mouth but no sound came out. She felt her cheeks lit up in flames, her throat closing out any sound. Christine’s smile began to falter, when a voice broke in.

“Anne?”

Both women turned to see Dr. Gilbert Blythe approaching with a triumphant spring in his step, but when he realized just what he was looking at, he halted.

“Gilbert, dear, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” Christine cried out, placing her hand on his arm. “You’re just the man I was looking for. I’ve just met the charming Anne.”

“I...I wasn’t expecting you, Christine,” he sputtered.

“Oh I know, but I thought you might be able to make some accommodations if I stay a few days. You don’t mind terribly much if I impose, do you?”

Gilbert looked at Anne, whose face had hardened into solid ice. He tried to send her silent messages of Please allow me to explain and I’m so sorry, but she refused to look him in the eye.

“There’s no where in the house for you and all the hotels are full. I don’t have anywhere for you,” he began to explain, but was cut off when Anne finally spoke.

“There is somewhere,” she said flatly. “She can stay in my room. I’m leaving.”

Anne felt like taking one of the glasses of wine passing by on a tray and dumping it all over his pristine, expensive suit. She felt like slapping him across his face, tearing off her brooch and stomping it to dust under her feet. She wanted to stand in the middle of the ballroom and shout to the world that Gilbert Blythe was the worst, most untrustworthy, horrible, cold-hearted men she’d ever met - ever . She wanted to pull him into one of their dark alcoves, get breaths away from his face, and whisper to him that she should have let him drown that day.

But most of all, she wanted to return to that sweet moment less than an hour ago, when she was pressed tight up against his chest. He’d whisper of his love over and over and over and over until the party was over and all traces of Christine Stuart were gone. But there was no taking it all back now, no magic that could erase the agony that throbbed through her like an acidic poison.

So instead of doing all the things she wanted to, she decided to do the thing she wanted to least. She turned on her heels and left them standing there in her dust, cursing the moment she ever laid eyes on the sailor who called her siren.

He might’ve been calling after her as she set out in search for Diana - or maybe she just imagined it - but refused to stop. She wouldn’t let him explain. She refused to even let him think about justifying why he-

There was Diana, she thought with relief, sitting on a bench against the wall. Her longest, most wonderful, faithful friend looked up to see Anne’s pale trembling form before her.

“Anne?” Diana asked nervously, leaving behind her bench crossing over to her. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Diana,” Anne murmured, feeling the rock in her throat opening enough to let some words out. “Can we go home?”

“Home? To Avonlea ? Anne what-“

Anne reached out and grabbed Diana’s hand, pulling her through the crowd of partygoers toward the side staircase. They managed to nearly get the entire way when a voice broke through the noise.

“Anne! Anne !”

She sent Diana an agonized expression, then darted up the stairs. Before she could follow, she was faced with a frantic, equally pained Gilbert.

“Diana, please , I have to talk to her. It isn’t what she thinks!”

As Diana hurried to collect her thoughts, Gilbert attempted to break past her up the stairs. Diana was faster though, sticking her arm up and fixing Gilbert with a glare of blades and fire.

“I don’t know what you’ve done, but stay away from her. You’ve clearly done enough.” She tore away after Anne before he could say any more.

When she entered Anne’s seaside room, she found her friend standing in the window with her arms crossed over herself, trembling at her own reflection. She was a silhouette of the person she was just hours ago, soft edges that seemed to be dissipating away. Something was ending, but only Anne knew what it was.

“Anne? Honey?”

Then, Anne lowered her head, let out a devastated moan, and began to weep. Every choked sob echoed across the room as she covered her face, blocking her own reflection in the window. How could she look at herself - the woman who was played the fool, the woman who’d allowed herself to be a rich man’s plaything? She was ashamed. Marilla had been right.

Diana held her as she cried, cradling Anne’s head in her bosom until the broken woman had released enough of her anguish to form a single sentence.

“Take me home.”

Diana still didn’t know much about what had transpired with Gilbert, but she’d not seen Anne this heartbroken since Matthew’s unexpected death. All she knew was that Anne’s pain was hers, and to deny Anne this would be like running her through. Pressing a kiss to Anne’s bowed head, Diana nodded.

“Alright, kindred spirit. I’ll pack your things for you, and then we’ll go home.”

Gilbert was waiting from them at the bottom of the staircase when they finally came down. Diana, her bags in one hand and Anne’s in another, pushed past the doctor when he surged forward. She was nearly out of the threshold of the house when she turned and found Anne had frozen the second she looked at Gilbert.

Anne wished that time would stop and take Gilbert with it so that she might sneak past him and pretend she’d never come in the first place. It was hard enough to wade through the haze her heartbreak had drawn up around her, but to face him was too much.

“Anne, please my love, let me tell you the truth,” he pleaded, taking a step toward her when he saw that she had locked her words tightly inside of her. But Anne had heard more than she wanted to. She heard enough to unlock her aptitud for words just long enough to leave him with one parting gift.

“The truth?” she sneered. “ The truth, Dr. Blythe, is that you’ve been lying to me since the day we met. You lied about who you were, about what you were! It’s been up to me to find out for myself, and here’s what I think! I think you’re just like every other rich man, using things easily obtained for entertainment and discarding them when you grow bored. What’s more, I’m willing to bet you lied about ever loving me, and for that….” her voice trailed off. She couldn’t say anything that came to her mind to follow. “For that, I will be the one to pay the price. I will be the one to bear the pain.”

She yanked the brooch off of her dress and shove it into his hand, barely noticing the way the green fabric had torn and the sharp pin of the brooch scratched across his hand.

Then, she grabbed Diana’s hand, and left all the things she loved glistening under bright electric lights of the Blythe Estate behind her.

*#*#*

They didn’t make it far. Shivering in the evening breeze, Anne brought her arms back up around herself and blinked back the next onrush of tears. As they walked down toward the road, a group of gentleman sauntered up toward the house. In the dark, it was hard to make out of the details of their attire, and to an unfocused eye, it appeared as though the they truly were party guests late to the festivities.

But then Anne recognized the way they walked - the way of an islander, the way of someone born and reared in Avonlea.

“That can’t be Diana Barry and the Cuthbert’s orphan,” a familiar voice called out. The blood in Anne’s veins turned to ice, and for just a moment, she forgot all about her heartache.

“Billy Andrews wearing a suit? I do say wonders never cease,” Diana mused, not stopping as Billy’s group halted in the driveway. “Good evening, gentlemen, we’ll be on our way.”

“Can we carry your bags for you ladies? They look heavy.”

“ No,” Anne forced out, unable to mask the terror to Diana.

“We’re quite capable,” Diana amended, picking up the pace to match Anne’s quickening one.

“Suit yourself. Bumpkins like Anne don’t belong at events like these anyway. Bet they turned you away at the door.”

Anne clenched her fists, but refused to turn around or answer.

“Keep walking, Diana,” she murmured in a voice so quiet it was nearly carried away on a breeze. When the babbling of Avonlea boys had disappeared into nothingness behind them, Anne reached out to grab Diana’s wrist.

“We have to go back,” she rushed out.

“What? I thought something happened with-”

“Something did happen,” Anne bit out, tears welling up in her eyes faster than she could blink them back or brush them aside. “But this is more important. You have to trust me. We need to go back!”

She spun on her heels to head back up the hill, but Diana grabbed her wrist before she could make it very far.

“Look, Anne, I’m with you anywhere, through anything. But you need to tell me what’s going on.”

Anne felt a gust of wind sweep through her skirts, loose strands of hair ticking the skin at the back of her neck. The whole world seemed to be vibrating around her, like a ticking bomb counting down second by second until the inevitable destruction.

“Billy Andrews wants to kill Gilbert. I heard him say so in Avonlea.”

“ What? Anne, that’s ridiculous.” Diana’s jaw had dropped.

“I heard the words leave his mouth as clearly as I can hear you now! Look Di, it’s complicated-”

“Then explain it!”

So Anne explained the whole story quickly, and Diana listened as closely as she could shivering in the mid autumn cold. Anne confessed knowing about Billy’s plans since before she came to the Glen, about telling Gilbert, about staying even after she told Gilbert because - as much as she wanted to work and teach - part of her would always ache to make sure he was okay.

“And what happened tonight?”

Anne let a single tear escape her eyes as she swallowed.

“Gilbert is already engaged. He has been. I met her tonight.”

Diana stumbled back as she comprehended Anne’s words. If she could feel the hammer in her own ribs pounding a crack into her heart, she could only imagine how Anne felt.

“That’s...Wow. And you want to protect him even though he broke your heart?”

Anne nodded, a resolute determination falling over her, like a mythical heroine of old. Even with auburn brows furrowed together in heartache and her figure trembling in the chill, she was steadfast and solid in her resolve.

“I ache so terribly, worse than I ever knew I could, but I don’t want him hurt. I know it’s why Billy is here tonight, I just do, Di.”

Diana’s eyes drifted the expanse of dark forests beside them, their wide expanse of unknown territory under the thick concealing blanket of orange leaves. Her mind was reeling, and she spent a moment trying to collect each one of her chaotic thoughts.

“Alright,” she said finally. “What do you plan to do?”

Anne’s green eyes flashed in the dark.

“Whatever it takes to stop him.”

*#*#*

As Anne crept into the ballroom, she couldn’t help but spare a thought to how lovely the evening had turned out. It was everything her imagination had conjured and more, with its brilliantly lit chandeliers, waves of music echoing off of the high walls, and laughter rising above every sound as dancers waltzed and whirled around like spinning tops.

“Do you see him anywhere?” Diana asked, just behind her.

Anne almost answered that no, she didn’t see Gilbert anywhere. He wasn’t dancing with any of the guests, nor was he with Bash in the corner - where had he gone? But then she remembered they had come back in for a different man, and began to scan the crowd for Billy Andrews. It would’ve been easy to spot him if he were here, since he could hardly hope to blend in with the sophisticated crowd. His hair would be too messy, his gait too unrestricted, his dancing too unrefined.

A sick feeling settled over Anne. If both Gilbert and Billy Andrews were nowhere to be seen, did they mean they had already found each other? Gilbert surely had no defense against Billy if he made good on his promise to bring a rifle.

“I don’t see him,” Anne nearly whimpered. She scanned the crowd one last time, then let her eyes linger to the second floor of the ballroom. It was accessible through the grand stairwell in the front of the room, and led up to balcony type passageways running along the sides of the walls and overlooking the main floor. A handful of party goers could go up and watch down over dancing couples if they needed a minutes rest. Maybe Billy had…

There he was! Anne thought with a start. He was up on the balcony, whispering something - instructions? - to one of them men he had come in with. From so far away, it was hopeless to try to make out what they were saying, but Anne was able to see Billy nod toward the thick rope that ran all the way up the wall to the chandelier and then hand his friend a knife.

“He’s going to cut the line to the chandelier!” Anne murmured to Diana in a rush. Diana’s gaze followed Anne’s and she let out a gasp.

“Is he crazy?” Diana cried out. “We should find someone to stop him! Isn’t that Gilbert’s brother up against the wall?”

“No, there isn’t enough time!”

Before Diana could stop her, Anne took off into the crowd, eyes locked to the boys up on the balcony. Somewhere between her struggle to navigate the masses, she misses Billy Andrews depart. Then, she caught a flash of his blonde hair descending the stairwell slowly and thoughtfully. She was quick to counter out of sight, waiting until he was out of sight to hurry up the stairs. The man had already begun sawing at the lines, and Anne could see the chandelier shaking as if there was a small earthquake in the room. If she confronted him from the front, sure enough he would turn the blade on her. Maybe she could sneak around behind him, and stop him from behind.

Anne crept along the edge of the balcony, taking the long way to the other side and turning herself into an unnoticeable sight in order to blend in with the shadows. As she neared closer and closer to the man cutting the line, she focused on steadying her breathing and quieting her steps. Just before she reached him, she grabbed a heavy floral vase from a nearby pedestal, clutching it so hard in her hands that her knuckles turned a terrified white. She was so close to him then that she could smell the beer coming from his pores.

Then, with shaking hands, Anne lifted the vase and brought it down upon his head as hard as she could manage. The man let out a grunt, collapsing to the ground in a heap of drunken unconsciousness. Frantic eyes turned to the chandelier line, which had been nearly sawed all the way through, but if let untouched, might be able to withstand the damage. Grabbing the short knife from the man and hiding it in one of her boots.

She rushed to the edge of the balcony, scanning the crowd for Billy Andrews. He was up against the wall, staring curiously at the chandelier, wondering why it hadn’t descended upon the guests yet. He shifted as if he was seconds away from coming up to investigate himself, when suddenly the music stopped and a voice rose above the crowd, partnered by a tap of a glass.

“Good evening everyone!” Gilbert said with delight that Anne sensed was forced. Billy stopped in his tracks, knowing that if he tried to sneak up the balcony stairs, he’d certainly be seen by everyone gazing upon their host. But this had been Anne’s home for nearly six months now. She knew of the small little passageway that led back down into the foyer, making it possible to reenter the crowd from behind. With everyone’s attention pulled away to Gilbert, she hurried down the line of the balcony, through the foyer, and back into the crowds amassing to hear Gilbert give his speech.

“I am delighted to see so many of my cherished friends here tonight! I am doubly delighted that the evening has already been filled with such pleasant revelry. I would like to interrupt, if I may, for a short time to tell you all the purpose of this event tonight.”

Through the aching pounding in Anne’s heart, she glanced over at Billy, who had begun a nonchalant saunter to the center of the crowd, directly in line of Gilbert.

“Someone very important to me recently advised me to let go of the hurt of the past in favor of enjoying the blessings of the present. I’d like to share with you some of that joy, if I may. Come on then, lads.” At his cue, forty-three boys filtered in behind Gilbert, wide, fearful eyes staring out at the audience who knew not yet to love them. Anne felt her chest swell with a strong pride - how brave these boys were, how brave and kind and true they all had grown to be. “These are the wonderful young men that I adopted from the St. Anthony’s Orphan Asylum. They are my greatest pride, strong in their goodness and courage. When my father passed away, I wondered how my life would have been different if I had grown up an orphan, so I sought to see myself.”

He wrapped an arm around the two boys closest to him, smiling warmly when Paul Irving hid his face into Gilbert’s coat.

“I came home with forty-three of the finest young gentleman I’ve ever met. My brother thought I was insane.” Chuckles bubbled around the room. “But it was one of my biggest delights to give these boys a family, to provide for them the same thing we all have now. A comfortable home, food on the table, an education, and most important, someone to love them. That is why I invited you here tonight. I’m standing before you now, humbly asking you to share the blessings of your present with the boys of Saint Anthony’s, so that they might be the blessings of their future.”

The crowd was acutely aware of the boys staring back at them with their guarded faces and wide, hopeful eyes. Anne herself, felt the shared kindred connection with every child in the room who’d ever lost their parents.

“Tonight isn’t just a call for donations, though any small amount helps. I hoped that tonight, I could encourage all my wonderful friends to find some way to share the love in their lives. Write letters to the boys, make visits, send them sweeties on holidays, and certainly take one home if you feel compelled to open your home like I did mine.”

Gilbert’s eyes scanned the crowd as he tried to meet as many people as he could in the eye. When his gaze fell on Anne, he faltered, the brave smile on his face nearly disappearing altogether. Anne knew him enough to see the sudden torment that raged in him, suddenly frozen to the ground herself. But then she jerked her head to where Billy Andrews was standing, sending the strongest warning she could muster out of her entire being. Gilbert glanced over, startled, but missed the warning’s message.

The pause seemed to be the perfect opportunity for Billy. Anne watched in horror as Billy reached a hand slowly into a hidden pocket in his jacket and retrieved a small revolver. Where had he gotten one of those ? Anne’s mind grasped around desperately for something to do, something to stop him, but came up empty handed.

“There has been some question as to whether or not I intend to keep my estate,” Gilbert continued carefully, venturing onto a path with his speech that he had not rehearsed with Anne. Adrenaline began to course through her, as if lightning had been flashed and now all that was left was to wait for the impending thunder. Gilbert tightened his grasp on the boys, squaring his shoulders to face a force he knew not. “These rumors and hopes have been ill founded. I intend to keep my estate well into the future, for the sake of my patients, for the sake of this community and its harbor, and for the sake of these boys, for whom I vowed to provide for. Of that, you may be sure.”

A growl sounded from the middle of the crowd. Anne’s head whirled around to see Billy Andrews taking a few steps forward. He rose his arm, revealing the gun with its target set directly on Gilbert, half-dimmed metal reflecting the brilliant yellow light like a warning. There was no way to reach Billy in time, Anne lamented, feeling her senses roar to life, instinct taking over her limbs. She’d failed this time, she’d been too late.

Fate was prepared to prove to her otherwise.

Just as Billy emitted a roar of fury, Anne surged forward with all the strength and speed she could muster. She cried out a heart wrenching “No!” as she collided with Billy, pushing his arms so that the barrel of the gun was aimed at the ceiling the second he pulled the trigger.

A thunderous BANG echoed across the hall, sending all the party guests to their knees, covering their heads with their hands. The resonance of the shot echoing into eternity around them was the only sound as every heart waited with baited breath for what might happen next.

Gilbert stood before them, the only one standing, shielding the boys with the wingspan of his arms and a stunned expression on his face when he looked upon Anne. The collision with Anne had knocked Billy off of his feet enough to send him tumbling to the ground, sending the revolver across the floor into Bash’s waiting hands. Yanking the weapon from the ground, Bash rushed forward, ready to collect Billy for imprisonment himself, but a sound creaked over them, like a rocking ship of aged wood.

The chandelier - Anne remembered with a jolt. Sure enough, Billy’s shot had cracked a section of the high ceiling where the chandelier was hung. With the rope that held the fixture already strained with too much tension, the shot had been all that was needed to snap the rope.

Gilbert yelled, “ Move! ” the second Anne herself had cried, “ Get out of the way! ”

The crowd hurried back, but they were never in danger of the crash. Only Gilbert and the boys, who’d all seemed to get out of the way just in the nick of time.

All except Paul Irving.

Anne’s heart leaped into her chest at the sight of her favorite pupil staring up at the falling chandelier, petrified with terror. Now alight with determination, she raced forward and shielded Paul’s small body with her own. Gilbert was there too, his arms around both of them, pushing them to the side, just out of the way.

The chandelier hit the ground with the crash of a thousand tiny glass crystals shattering against the hard floor. Anne felt just as many tiny cuts line her arms as the shards flew around them, but it wasn’t until she lifted her head that she saw Gilbert had shoved them just out of line of the chandelier.

Everyone was afraid to breathe, afraid that something else might jump out of the woodwork to harm them. Gilbert was the first to raise himself, with shaking hands, he carefully helped Paul stand, giving him a quick glance for cuts and broken bones. He peered around the room at every pair of wide eyes that stared back at him in stunned amazement. No one had been hurt. They’d all gotten back far enough in time.

Then, he spun around to Anne, who’d a line of blood trickling from her forehead and cheek. The lines of his lashes turned moist as he shook his head in awe.

“You came back,” he murmured. “You saved me again. ”

“And you saved me ,” she replied just as quietly.

The crowd around them had blurred into nothingness - there was only light, the hazel of his eyes, and that same magnetic pull between them that had been there from the first day of the storm. As reality befell upon her - Billy Andrews had failed, everything was alright, Gilbert was alright - he swept her into his arms and pressed his face into the crook of her neck. She felt his lips pressing kisses to the side of her head and heard whispers of, “My love, oh my love.”

She’d almost forgotten about Christine - almost allowed herself to believe that the whole day had been just a horrible nightmare. Reality broke in before she could drift away too far.

“I’ll get you Blythe, if it’s the last goddamn thing I ever do!” Billy shouted. Anne’s head spun to look, heart clenching with fear for a recurrence of what had just transpired, but she was relieved to find the man being yanked away by Glen police officers. “You’ll rot in hell! Your orphan bastard trash will rot! Your whore will rot! Your colored-” The officer had heard enough, giving the man a strong hit over the head and promptly knocking him out so he could be dragged out to the carriage by his elbows. Diana was close behind them, racing through the stunned crowd into Anne’s arms.

“Anne, you do beat all! You’re alright, aren’t you?” she wept, squeezing her bosom friend with all the weak strength she could muster. “I went to find help the second you took off up those stairs! What happened here?”

Anne’s eyes fell on the ground where the last remnants of the chandelier laid askewed on the tile. Each step would result in a crack, and Anne was sure there were shards in her hair and skirts. She wondered just what had happened. She turned her attention to the crowd, who was still too entranced by the chaos that had finally begun to settle.

“I don’t think we can begin to apologize for the strain you all have been through tonight. But that...” she pointed a finger at the door where Billy Andrews had been pulled away. “That is what happens when you let avarice strip you of your humanity. That is the fate of so many who are never given the chance to be good.”

Gilbert came up behind Anne, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll see anyone who has sustained physical injuries in my office. We understand if you’d like to get home to your beds and decompress after the tumult of the day. You are likely just as shocked as we are at tonight’s events, but I am deeply sorry just the same. Please have safe, comfortable travels home.”

The crowds began to filter out through the doors, many of them with odd expressions on their faces that Anne could not decipher. She expected they’d be appalled after the display shown tonight, expected to hear murmurs of “country ruffians,” but instead, every single departing guest was lost in thought. Anne herself felt as though she was glued to the floor, like moving would force her to return to the reality that she was leaving. After all, with Billy likely locked up for good, Gilbert’s life was no longer in any danger, so there was no reason to stay.

“Miss Shirley!” a chorus of voices called, breaking her from her thoughts. Anne’s head snapped up to see all forty-three wonderful boys barrelling toward her. They each grabbed her where they could, some holding tight to her waist and her arms, others clutching at the pretty fabrics of her skirts.

“Are you boys alright?” she asked, checking them over each one by one. When she found Paul Irving, who had his teary cheeks buried in her side, she caressed the side of his head. “Dear, are you alright? We had quite the fall, didn’t we?”

Paul’s sweet face looked back at her, little streaks of moisture trailing down the corners of his nose. “My wrist hurts,” he moaned quietly. Anne nodded understandably, holding up said wrist to see if it sustained any major injuries.

“I’ll take you to Dr. Blythe and he’ll take a look at it. How does that sound?” Paul nodded, anxious to be in the comfort of Gilbert’s company again. The doctor himself had snuck away as soon as he could, ready in his office to see to anyone needing treatment. “Are any more of you hurt?” Anne was met by forty-two shaking heads.

“Come on, Queen Anne,” Bash said, appearing from the side. “I was told to bring you up to see the doctor, something about a gash across your forehead.”

Anne reached a finger up to the area in question, and sure enough, they came back down with a hot smear of blood. She looked down at the expectant faces of the boys, and Paul Irving, and of Sebastian LaCroix, whose eyes told her that he understood her hesitation.

“Alright, let’s go see the doctor.”

*#*#*

“Well, this certainly has been an eventful evening,” Sebastian said, filling the silence of their short walk up to Gilbert’s office. He peered down at the Anne, whose eyes had fallen sad again, but she put on a brave face for the young boy clutching her hand.

“I’m only sorry that it turned out as poorly as it did,” she murmured.

“I can’t speak for everything that has happened tonight, but you’ll be pleased to hear that we exceeded our anticipated amount of donations. Most of them came after...well, after. ”

Anne’s stunned face turned up to him.

“What- How?” she stammered. “I thought for sure Billy ruined all chances of us reaching the goal.”

“I did too, but I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. St. Anthony’s will be well taken care of for the next few years.” Bash slowed to a stop as they neared Gilbert’s door. “I haven’t told the doctor yet. Could you?”

A sick, nervous feeling settled in her stomach, but Anne nodded. Sebastian gave one last parting smile, with its own traces of sadness, then turned on his heel to leave. Before he walked two steps, he paused.

“Anne,” he said kindly. “Let him explain. It isn’t all you think.”

Throat closed in, Anne looked down at the ground. She wasn’t sure if she was strong enough to let Gilbert explain. Could see endure sitting beside him while he told that she was only a passing infatuation, that his enduring love was for Christine Stuart? Oh, she wished there was another doctor in the Glen, she lamented. She had to brave this one last storm and seal the ending of everything her and Gilbert had been. As she had told him once, it was just another thing she’d have to mourn.

Knocking on the door, Anne took a deep breath and waited for it to open before her.

Her eyes were glued to the ground when it finally did swing open, and when she chanced a glance up at him, she fought the urge to let out of shuddering sob. How was it that after everything, she still loved him so? Her heart craved him as if he were water, or air, or peaceful summer days. How could she ever learn to break herself of him?

His amazement at seeing her did not go unnoticed, either, with his wide atlantic blue eyes and parted lips.

“ Anne , you ca-” He glanced down at the young boy peeking out from behind her skirts. “Paul! Come in.”

Paul reached for the doctor’s hand and followed him in like a duckling, leaving Anne to trail in at her own agonized pace. Being in the office was its own torment, the ghosts of their last real conversation in the nearby alcove lingering like smoke from a blown out candle. Anne could still feel his lips on her neck, his words in her ear.

“Have a seat, lad,” she heard Gilbert say behind her. “Where does it ache?”

Anne intended to stand with her back to them, memorizing the titles on the spines of Gilbert’s books on the shelves, but was interrupted by a small voice.

“Miss Shirley, could you sit with me?”

A pang of love hit her when she met his pleading eyes. The poor boy had just had enough excitement for an entire lifetime, of course he was scared. Kneeling down before him, Anne nodded.

“Yes, Mr. Irving. You’ve been very brave, of course I’ll sit with you.” Then she spared Gilbert a neutral look. “I believe he sprained his wrist in the fall.”

“I’m sorry son, that’s my fault for pushing you so hard. I’m awful glad I did, though.”

“Me too,” Paul murmured, hissing when Gilbert tugged a little at Paul’s fingers. According to his assessment, the bone seemed alright, but the muscle had been strained when Paul reached his hand out to catch his fall. The three sat in silence as Gilbert’s skilled hands bound the injury, only pausing every now and again to gauge Paul’s pain and to give Anne a loaded look.

“Go find Mrs. LaCroix and she’ll give you some ice to put on it. If it still hurts tonight, come wake me up and I’ll give you something for the pain. How does that sound?” Gilbert asked.

Paul’s tears had subsided, the binding helping ease the inflammation, and he nodded. Kicking himself out of the chair he gave both doctor and teacher a thankful hug, then scurried out of the room, leaving Anne and Gilbert waiting in the tense silence. Anne could not bring herself to look at him, worried if she did, she’d take back everything she said - and she meant it! Every word! Biting the inside of her cheek, she pushed back the part of her that ached for her to throw her arms around him and say Christine who?

“Will you let me clean and bandage your cuts?” he asked cautiously. Anne nodded her head, keeping her eyes locked on the sea outside the window. She could hear him rummaging through his doctor’s things again, pulling out the disinfectant and the gauze.

“And then will you let me explain myself?” he said. Anne opened her mouth to refuse him, but he rushed to capture the pause. “Please, just let me tell you the truth about Christine and then if you want to leave this place and forget you ever met me, I’ll understand. I won’t stop you, no matter how much it’ll kill me to see you go.”

“Isn’t this unprofessional, doctor?” she stated stiffly.

“Yes, very,” he agreed, pressing a cotton ball to her cut. Anne hissed, recoiling a little, but tightening her hands. “But it’s a special case. Will you hear me out?”

Anne should’ve wanted to say Absolutely not, you cretin, but really, she wanted answers. No amount of scorn or heartbreak was enough to mask her desire to know the truth.

“Alright,” Anne murmured. Gilbert, whose eyes had been fixed on bandaging her forehead, froze completely still. His breath shook as he took a deep inhale, and continued to work.

“There are some things I’m sure that you’ve noticed do not exactly add up about me. Why does my brother look completely different from me, when did I ever work as a teacher if I grew up in this house? They all have to do with Christine.”

Hearing her name made Anne’s throat close in, but if Gilbert noticed the tears filling her eyes, he said nothing. He simply allowed her to feel and listen as she might.

“When I was first approaching adulthood, my father had begun to take ill. It was the beginning of his very slow descent, but it also made him hyper aware of the responsibility that would befall me once he was gone. But to me, a very young man with dreams of his own, it just seemed like he was trying to control my life the same way he controlled the harbor’s finances. And because he was good with the harbor, I let him, thinking maybe he knew best, after all. I don’t think he meant to do it, but it was so much for him to take on.”

He gently took Anne’s arm, examining the small cuts for any tiny pieces of glass still remaining. His touch was gentle enough that Anne wondered if she could memorize how sweet it felt.

“I still believe that if we’d grown up in Avonlea like my mother wanted, we would’ve been happier,” he added with a taste of scorn. “While I was studying to go to medical school in the quiet corners of the house, my father was planning out every single detail of my future that would take place after he was gone. One of those days, he pulled me into his office - this office - and told me each plan one by one. I was to take over the harbor as business executive, and I was marry the daughter of Joseph Stuart, creating an alliance between the Kingsport Harbor that would safeguard the PEI farms who sent out exports. Without maintaining that business relationship, the tariffs to Nova Scotia would certainly make it impossible for the PEI businesses to keep up financially.”

Anne remembered the days when she was first living at Green Gables, when Matthew had paced across the kitchen anxiously about the struggling Carmody port. If it had gone under like Matthew thought it would, where would that have left them?

“I refused.” Anne’s eyes shot up to his. “My father got to have his dreams - to fall in love and marry the woman he adored, to be a successful businessman to provide for his family, to have a son that would follow directly in his footsteps. But I had dreams of my own. I wanted to be a doctor, take care of the Glen and serve it faithfully. I wanted to find my own love, Anne, I wanted to find you . So I left home. I went to Queen’s Academy to get my teaching certificate, raised enough funds to go to college, and studied to be a doctor, just as I wanted.”

“Which school did you teach?” Anne asked quietly.

“A school in Bolingbroke, Nova Scotia - a rural town.”

A tear trickled down Anne’s cheek and she sniffled weakly.

“That’s where I was born,” she admitted. Gilbert smiled, wiping away the tear with a tender touch.

“I loved Bolingbroke, and I loved learning to be a doctor even more. I was able to win the Cooper Prize, with provided me the rest of the funds to make it through medical school. I knew that even if it disappointed my father, I had to follow my own ambitions. I told you that I graduated five years ago, and I did, but shortly after, my father’s illness took a turn for the worse and I had to adjust my plans.”

He took her hands and stared into her eyes straight on.

“My father wanted to know that I was going to be alright when he died, and when I looked at him on his deathbed, I knew that I couldn’t go against his wishes. He begged me to go through with the engagement with Christine, to run the harbor. So I agreed, and I’ve regretted it ever since, because I never wanted to be with Christine. I wanted to spend my life with someone who belonged in it. You, sweetheart, I only ever wanted you.”

Anne clutched Gilbert’s hands, the ice around her heart starting to melt, replaced with his adorative warmth.

“I spent a year on a steamer, getting to know the lives of the people who were using the harbor and how the tariffs worked on a personal and business level. That’s where I met Bash. I invited him to come back and be my business partner and to be my brother. He married Mary a few months later, and we’ve been living here as a family ever since. We’ve all only ever seen Christine a few times.”

“I suppose that leaves the story up to date,” Anne murmured. “I just wish you had told me all of that sooner, before I had to look her in the eyes and hear that she’s your betrothed.”

“There’s a little more,” he admitted, biting back a hopeful smile.

“I didn’t tell you because as soon as I knew you felt the same way about me, I begged Bash to find some loophole in the engagement, something that could keep the harbor safe - and thus the boys financially sound - but also let me finally propose to you the way it was intended. He couldn’t find anything-” Anne gave a barely audible whimper, lips tight together, “-but Christine did.” Anne blinked.

“What?”

“Sweetheart, Christine is pregnant. She’s in love herself, with a fellow name Andrew Dawson. I know the man, he works on one of the steamers that goes back and forth between the Glen and Kingsport. Her and I discussed it this evening during the party. Instead of her and I marrying now to cover up a potential defamation of her family’s name, I’m going to promote Andrew so that she might marry him. That is how her and I get to keep our right to love while protecting our family businesses. We ended the engagement a few hours ago.”

Anne’s mind was reeling. She clasped the arm of the chair to keep from toppling over, afraid that if she moved too quickly, everything from the last few minutes would vanish completely.

“And...you and I? What of us?” she asked in a strained voice.

“That’s your decision, Anne,” Gilbert assured gently. “But if you’ll let me, I will happily, eagerly, completely love you and make you my partner through life. You can write and teach if that’s what you want, and I’ll be a doctor, and we’ll have the boys, Bash and Mary, and only love and happiness to speak of. I’m tired of living on someone else’s agenda.”

Completely bandaged, Anne reached out, placed her hands on Gilbert’s shoulder’s, and leaned her head into his chest. His arms came up around her, tracing star constellations into her back as she tried straighten out her mind. Aquarius. Orion. Cassiopeia.

“I’m still furious that you lied to me,” she choked out, unable to swallow back any more tears.

“I know.” His own voice was just as choked. “I’m sorry Anne, you don’t know how much.”

She snuck her arms up, tugging him closer until she was completely wrapped up in his warmth, face tucked perfectly into the space of his neck. His apology had come from a genuine place inside of him, the place that she’d met the day she saved him and had fallen more and more in love with as each day passed. Here and now, with that piece of his soul breathing the same air as hers, she knew that this was good, this was what Fate had intended for them.

Suddenly, she remembered that day on the Avonlea cliffside, staring out at the sea. The ocean, the wind, the stars and clouds had all called out to her “He’s there!” over and over like a prayer whispered on the lips of a mother. Who was she, then, to let this man go? Who was she to go against the wishes of her own heart?

“I still can’t believe you charged into an armed man for me. You put your life in danger again for me. You came back for me,” he whispered into her hair.

Anne pulled back, peered into his eyes, and answered him the only way she knew how.

“Yes, my love, I did it for you.”

Gilbert’s face crumpled then, the words affecting him the same way they affected her when he first spoke them. He released a sob on a laugh and nodded, because he knew what she was really saying - Yes, my love, I forgive you.

“Will you stay then, Anne? Will you stay with me?” He’d never been so hopeful, so tender.

“Is that a formal proposal, Dr. Blythe?” she asked weakly, running the back of her fingers over the soft skin of his cheeks. He smiled, taking her beloved fingers and turning them so he could press a kiss to her knuckles.

“It is if you’d like it to be.”

Anne launched herself into his arms, sprinkling kisses on his face and hair and neck like dew descending on a field. Laughter exploded out of him in breathless bursts as he desperately tried to reciprocate each loving kiss. Finally, he caught her face and lifted it up to his, kissing her with a matchless adoration.

“How about this, Gil,” Anne suggested, tearing away so that only their noses and foreheads touched. “Let me go home to Avonlea, to part with it the way I should have. And then, when you’re ready, propose to me there, under the lacy blossoms of the White Way of Delight. We’ll walk along our beach, remember the day that brought us together. And when we’ve had our fill of memories, we’ll come home, here, to the Glen.”

Bliss filled Gilbert, radiating off of him in waves, and he took her back into is arms, sneaking in one last murmur before capturing her lips once more.

“As you wish it, Queen Anne.”

This was how it was supposed to be, they both thought at the same time - lips curved into smiles as they kissed, fears of the past gone and resolved forever, and the future as bright and full as the moon that bathed them in with its radiance.

Anne spent a week in Avonlea, boxing up all her belongings and answering hundreds of questions about the night of the charity ball. She began to recount the story so many times that more and more callers came to hear the tale of Anne and the madman.

“Oh no,” she’d say with enduring patience, “It’s a story of a doctor, a madman, and forty-three loyal orphan boys.”

“And you,” Mrs. Hiram Sloane interjected. Anne had bit her cheek to keep from smiling too wide.

“Yes, and me.”

It was that encounter that led Anne to decline taking future callers, instead spending that time in front of her typewriter. She’d come down for an hour or two every time her fingers began to cramp, curling up next to an indignant Marilla on the sofa and saying things like, “I do love you so, Marilla. You’ve done this hopeless harem scarem some good.”

And Marilla’s hard exterior would melt away just long enough to reply, “You’ve done even more good for this cranky old maid.”

But on this night, Anne had a pressing worry on her mind.

“You’re not terribly upset that I’m leaving Green Gables to go live in the Glen?”

Marilla sighed, eyes falling on the old chair Matthew used to sit in when he was alive. Though he was never very good at expressing his feelings, when it came to Anne, he never hesitated. He would understand if he was here now.

“I always knew you’d have to leave sometime. After all, you’re a college graduate with your entire life ahead of you. At some point, we all must go out and seek our place in this world. Mine was with you, and now yours is in the Glen.”

Anne caressed Marilla’s thin knuckles with a gentle thumb.

“You’ll come and visit, won’t you? You’ll absolutely love the children and the house is beautiful! It’s got the sea on one side and the forest on the other. And Gil has been speaking with the staff about allowing me to redo the gardens myself for days when I need to be with myself and the island. There’s about a dozen guest rooms for your choosing and Mary plans the most extravagant meals. And-”

“Anne, of course I’ll come and visit,” Marilla interrupted, not wanting Anne to spoil all the splendor of the Glen. “Do you suppose you’ll marry the doctor here or at the estate?”

“We haven’t talked about it much since he hasn’t made his formal question yet, but he’s coming on the evening train.” Anne lounged back and turned her face to the setting set dripping in through the window. “If I had my way, we’d get married first here. Maybe out in the valley of Green Gables or in the Blythe Apple Orchard. We’ll have our closest family and friends, the spirit of the island, and the boys of course, and be married under the purple dawn. Then, we can go back to the Glen and have the big wedding his business circle will be expecting. I don’t suppose I’ll mind being a bride twice.”

Before Anne could drift too far away into nuptial daydreams, Marilla took a sip of her tea.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t arrived yet. Do you suppose the train was delayed?”

“I can’t imagine why, though with how old the train master is getting, I wouldn’t be surprised. Maybe I’ll take a walk into town and see if he’s gotten himself lost or wrapped up in some sort of medical emergency.” Anne tugged on her heavy sweater, the cream knit perfect for blocking out the autumn chill. “On days like these, I’m so glad we live in a world where there are Octobers.”

As Marilla watched her brave, beautiful young daughter cross the threshold of Green Gables, she could not help but feel as though a chapter was ending and soon the book would be closed. A calm breath filled her lungs as she smiled softly to herself. Perhaps the sequel would prove just as beloved.

The island was at peak beauty, with every tree at its most vibrant orange and the White Way of Delight at its bloomiest. Silky smooth petals rained down with each dust of wind, catching in Anne’s auburn hair like snowflakes. She was content to walk along this beloved road, remembering all the wonderful times she’d had here, and all of the ones yet to come. She was lost in thought, mind trailing alongside her in the shadows and trees, when a study gentleman appeared at the end of the Avenue.

The sight of Anne ambling happily along the road knocked the breath from him, making him pause to admire how lovely she was among all the warm colors of the autumn sunset. A stiff breeze carried her gaze to him, and the ethereal picture was broken, leaving Anne and only Anne.

The queen dryad herself seemed to be drinking in every sweet detail of him - how fit he looked in his suspenders, the soft curls of his hair that she positively adored, and the sunny grin on his face that rivaled any smile she’d ever witness. She squealed and ran forward toward him, easily swept up in his waiting arms. He lifted her, holding her up and above him so that he might admire her. It wasn’t much unlike they were the day she saved him and every day since.

“I’m so glad you made it!” she cried as he lowered her back onto the red roads.

“I wouldn’t miss such a wonderful day with you for the world. Not when I have such an important question to ask.”

“And what might that be, doctor?” she said lowly.

The whole Island held its baited breath as the doctor knelt down upon his knee, offered his love a small box containing a band of pearls, and offered himself to her. The trees stopped swaying, the birds paused their song, the breeze stood still. Then, with tears that dripped down the sides of her face and into the soil, Anne accepted and the Island rejoiced. The doctor took his betrothed into his arms and pulled her close. His kisses tasted like tears and cinnamon, hers of the sun.

That night, celebration rang out all through Green Gables. In the morning, everything would tilt on a different axis and new paths would form in the earth, ready to be traversed. But for now, Anne, Gilbert, Marilla, and Rachel Lynde sat around the dining room table, exchanging stories of every kind until their stomachs and hearts were full.

“I must say Doctor,” began Rachel in her know-all tone. “I’m now willing to admit that perhaps Anne was right raising her voice to me the day you washed up on our shore.”

“He didn’t wash up, I jumped in after him!” Anne corrected teasingly.

“Credit where credit is due, ma’am,” Gilbert agreed with a loyal smile to Anne.

“Well, I still think it’s ridiculous the amount of talk going around the Ladies Aid about I wish it had been my daughter to jump in the storm to save Dr. Blythe,” Marilla cut in, wiping the table with a damp rag. “Asking if the doctor has any brothers, and if Anne intended to marry the man or not.”

Anne and Gilbert shared an amused smile.

“Alas, Gil’s brother is married and I intend to marry the good doctor as soon as humanly possible.”

“We could go get the preacher this evening,” Gilbert suggested when Rachel’s back was turned away, brushing his lips against her cheek.

“Or you could wait through a full engagement period as is good and proper!” Rachel shot, sensing the loosening of propriety behind her.

“Oh, do try not to get all twisted up Rachel, and give these two some solitude!” Marilla scolded from the doorway. She practically dragged the grumbling lady away by her ear, leaving Anne and Gilbert alone in the peace of the house. Within moments, they were side by side, hand in hand.

“I can’t wait to tell Diana,” Anne mused happily, pressing Gilbert’s calloused fingertips against her lips.

“She wasn’t very thrilled with me the last we saw each other,” he confessed.

“Diana only wants what’s best for me. Her and I talked and we’re both in agreement.”

“In my favor, I hope.”

“Of course,” Anne laughed. She leaned her head on his shoulder, glancing down at the beautiful band of pearls on her ring finger. For once, the exchange wasn’t single sided. “I actually have something for you, if you’d like it.”

Gilbert leaned to press a kiss to her cheek, smiling against all of her starry freckles.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she laughed. His content eyes followed her as she crossed the room to the wooden secretary against the wall, from which she pulled a stack of papers tied together with straw ribbon on each side. She took a nervous breath, then handed him the ream of parchment. Gilbert accepted it anxiously, pushing aside the ribbon so he could make out the typewritten words across the front.

“Is this…?” he asked in awe.

“Our story, yes,” Anne finished for him, anxious for is reaction. “I was tired of telling it over and over, and thought it might make an interesting subject for a book. I’ve had such a block of creative words this past year, but something about these last months has opened me right up. Of course, the manuscript is only half completed. I’ve only been home a week! But I wanted you to read it so that you knew what you meant to me. Maybe this could help those Saint Anthony boys too.”

Gilbert had no words. He merely grazed his fingertips over the pages and admired how lovely the authorial name “Anne Shirley” appeared across the white title page.

“I can’t wait to read it, sweetheart, thank you,” he said truly. A pleased smile lit Anne into pure light and she laughed.

“You can read it on the train ride home tomorrow while I sleep! I’ve been up these past nights writing like a woman starved!”

They sat that way for some time, allowing the minutes to tick by on the clock until the clear sky overhead shone a sea full of stars. Green Gables kept them warm on this last night in the beloved home. Tomorrow would bring its own new adventures, of which Anne knew not their names. But the evening was for her and Gilbert alone.

And so, until their candles had burned out, the two recounted all of their present blessings, looking forward to the ones that they could count come morning.

#anne of green gables #anne with an e #shirbert #shirbert ff #shirbert fic #anne and gilbert #tessa writes #AHHH IT'S DONE

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andersunmenschlich · 4 years ago

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Just Visiting

The vacation was going quite well so far. We had only a few neighbors this far out in the country, and they were all the sort of people who left well enough alone.

Finding my 'footy pajamas' on top of the dryer, I zipped myself up into the seeming of a young, slender human of indeterminate gender and age, then put my hand out for the doorknob. It materialized accommodatingly, and I went into the kitchen. A tiny baby looked wearily at me from the kitchen sink where it was sitting, half-buried beneath the bubbles it was poking idly with a finger.

"I wish Mom would take me out of here," it said.

Ignoring this as an acceptable breach of protocol (babies are not supposed to talk, but it was the kind of thing that wouldn't spoil the game so long as no one took any notice), I fished beneath the bubbles and brought up the lump that shouldn't have been there. Rinsing the basketball in the other side of the sink, I put it, dripping, on the floor and went back to the door again. This time it took me to my room, where I selected suitable coverings for my body suit.

Climbing out the window, no longer apparently naked, I saw various other members of my family playing in the yard. Horseshoes and croquet were the order of the day, though some of the rules seemed slightly off from what I remembered of the Human Sports Guidebook. Still, never mind.

I waved at them and set off down the road.

Taking a Walk was definitely one of my favorite human activities, and I settled in to enjoy it, smelling the crisp autumn air, flavored ever so slightly with the scent of rotting leaves, gazing at the overcast, grey sky, and moving my new legs back and forth, back and forth, keeping myself precisely balanced atop them.

This had taken quite a bit of practice, and some of the newbies still weren't very good at it, or couldn't do it at all—take, for instance, the one who'd chosen to be the baby.

The dusty, black-paved road was empty as far as the eye could see, but I walked along the left side of it anyway. You could never be too sure, and I didn't care for such a sudden end to my vacation. If I played it properly, I could be here for years! I looked around at the naked trees, browning grass and surrounding mountains with satisfaction. This world really was so much better than our own, which (I caught myself just in time) I was not going to think about. Even remembering the tiniest bit of it could taint present enjoyment. I sighed, watching the warm air puff out in front of me in a thin, gossamer wisp. It wasn't cold enough yet for breathing cumulus clouds, but cirrus clouds are just as good in my opinion.

A car passed me, windows down, bass thumping, temporarily destroying the gentle noises of birds and insects and the tops of trees moving in a soft, high breeze. I scowled. Some people's games. Still, it was too pretty a day in too pretty a realm of existence for me to waste my time trying to get my suit to generate the appropriate level of irritation long enough for me to bask in it properly, so I gave it up.

Walking on, I found myself on the outskirts of town. There were sidewalks now, and I moved to one, admiring the subtle sparkles in the concrete.

People muffled in coats and scarves hurried past me occasionally, going this way or that in the kind of mindless rush that indicated either genuine humanity or dedicated roleplaying. Dad enjoyed that kind of thing, which was why he'd chosen to be Dad this time around. I didn't see how he could stand it. Even the few pedestrians here were bothering me a little. Imagine if I had to interact with them! I thought about that for a while, watching the clouds overhead move against each other as I wandered slowly forward, the occasional passerby giving me a wide berth.

It could almost be fun, I thought, if you played it right. A different kind of game, using the inhabitants and not just the world. Riskier, though, for if you played wrong and did something that might ruin this plane for everyone, you could end up—

I cut that thought off as finally as I had the last errant one, and directed my attention to the houses. They were closer together here, fences separating one tiny patch of grass or stones from another. The curtains in most houses were drawn, indicating the absence of the inhabitants, but a few were open, revealing living rooms in various states of occupancy. The only moving things in most of them were on television screens. Now, we had a television, but I still wasn't entirely sure how it worked or what the point of it was. Frankly, I wasn't interested. Artificial atmospheres can be created anywhere. Natural ones are much more valuable, and I intended to enjoy every moment I had access to this one.

There was a sudden, sharp blow to the back of my head, and I passed out.

—~—~—

Blinking, I found myself in a darkish room lit by candles and the dim glow of a dying fire. There was deep, light-colored carpet on the floor where I was lying, and a dark-colored armchair behind me. I sat up and discovered that the clothes over my 'footie pajamas' had changed to something that looked a good deal like a maid outfit. I stood up and had a look in the mirror above the fireplace mantel. No, I still couldn't really see anything. With a flick of my hand, I turned on the lights. Yes, definitely a maid outfit. Old-fashioned, knee-length skirt, high neckline, apron. Maid outfit.

One of the doors in the wood-paneled walls opened slightly. In the mirror, a man's head appeared in the crack and looked around. It vanished, and I heard a whisper: "She found the light switch."

Ah, so I was a girl in this scenario. All right, I could do that.

"That's all right, it's fine, get out of the way!" an imperious whisper responded, and there was some scuffling outside the door. I turned to face it as it was flung open by a man in black dress pants, a white t-shirt with a red vest buttoned neatly over it, and a long black tailcoat. "So you're awake!" he cried melodramatically. "Good, good!"

I raised an eyebrow, a nuance of expression I was particularly fond of, and he seemed slightly thrown, but not for long.

"We've been needing a new maid for a while now, and you are it!" he explained in a voice which was evidently meant to be threatening. "Behave or we'll kill you!" There was a brief pause, then, in a much more cheerful tone, with a bright smile: "Okey-dokey?"

Really, the games some people play.

There was a long pause as I thought it over. Well, I had been considering a more active vacation, and while these people were clearly aliens bent on taking over Earth, what did I care? They were of this plane and could do what they liked. So long as I didn't interfere, there was no reason I shouldn't enjoy myself. "Yes, sir," I replied, and gave a little curtsy. "Excellent!" he exclaimed, and both men left.

It took me a little while to settle into the swing of being a maid. This was a role I had never exactly studied, and while the aliens were unlikely to notice any mistakes on my part, that wouldn't be playing the game. None of the books in the library helped. Most of them didn't even come off the shelves, and the few that did made no sense, being entirely comprised of word salad. Nonetheless, I did my best, and soon felt quite at home in the large, anachronistically decorated and constructed mansion, even becoming more or less accustomed to the many strange doors, each leading to one of its same two rooms every time. The main thing they seemed to want me for was wandering about entirely focused on flicking every inch of every surface with a large feather duster, but closing doors behind every one of the six or so oddly-clothed aliens so that the next one could fling them open dramatically also took up a great deal of my time.

One day, however, they asked me to bring a tea tray to their meeting room on the second floor. This was not an uncommon request, and I made up a plate of sandwiches and a pot of tea. Putting all this on a tray with some teacups, I went upstairs.

Are maids supposed to wait for permission before going into rooms? I did knock. But it seems they weren't quite ready for me. Instead of a room of six or so eccentric human gentlemen seated around a large, oval table, I carried the tea tray into a room of six of so eccentric alien tentacle monsters looking out windows, standing by the table, or examining the bric-a-brac on some of the shelves. They all seemed shocked by my sudden appearance at such an inopportune time, but the shock was rather overdone and artificial.

"What are you doing here??" exclaimed the head of the gentleman who'd greeted me when I woke up in the parlor a few weeks previous, slithering toward me on the many long tentacles growing from his neck. "Yes, what's she doing here??" the other tentacle-heads agreed, also slithering up to surround me.

"Bringing you your tea, sirs," I informed them calmly, hoisting the tray slightly to bring it to their attention.

"You weren't poking and prying?"

I shook my head.

"Not trying to discover what we're up to, uncover and thwart our nefarious plot?"

I shook my head.

"Well, whyever not? You haven't poked or pried once since you got here! What's wrong with you??"

"I'm not interested, sir," I told him. "Too much trouble." As they all stood aghast, swaying slightly on their tentacles, I lifted the tray again. "Would you like your tea?"

"Er... yes, thank you."

I put it on the table and left. It struck me as rather unfortunate that I couldn't stay at the mansion any longer, but I really didn't want my vacation cut short. Going out the gate, off the grounds of the mansion, I breathed the crisp autumn air, scented heavily by automobile fumes, looked up past the bare branches of the trees and the looming tops of the tall buildings to the clouds moving in the gray-blue sky, and smiled. It was going to be a long walk home.

#short story #old #date unknown

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wonderparenting-blog · 5 years ago

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Best Moral Stories for Kids with Valuable Lessons - Wonder Parenting

Reading out to your children in this gizmo freak world of limited interactions is one of the best things you can do today. Once kids will grow out from your lap, you will miss all these. Also, obviously, it is perhaps the best thing to fabricate a bond with your kids and invest quality time with them in this quick pacing way of life. Bonding is boosted with this cuddling and reading. There are abundant advantages of reading moral stories for kids.

It is appropriately said that there is not a viable alternative for books throughout one’s life and no app is better than a parent’s lap!

Nothing can beat the sentiment of cuddling by your kids as you read out to them. Short moral stories for kids are a wellspring of delight as well as encourages them life values.

According to research, 18-24-months-old kids who have been read routinely by their parents had the ability to talk and see more words comparatively. Reading at an early age improves communication and language skills.

Before perusing the list of best moral stories for kids, how about we read 5 advantages of moral stories for children.

[Read Kids Bedtime Stories]

5 Benefits of Moral Stories for Kids

Creates healthy bonding

It encourages a solid and positive relationship. Stories with good morals help you to invest quality time with them.

Builds up the affection for books

Narrating at an early age helps in building up the affection for books. Reading habits of moral stories for kids prompt achievement throughout life.

Improves relational abilities

Your kid increases significant relational abilities by associating with the characters of motivational stories for kids.

To make reading progressively alive, utilize your non-verbal communication during the narrating sessions of moral stories for kids. It will create interest in their general surroundings. Stories with morals in English or any language improves communication skills.

Expands concentration level

At the point when you are describing moral stories for kids, they are seated in one spot for quite a while. It encourages them to build their concentration as they interconnect the sequence of the story.

Lifts creative mind

Reading short stories in English with moral offers wings to the kid’s creative mind. Very short stories for kids raises the IQ by more than 6 and furthermore the curiosity levels.

After reading the benefits of moral stories for kids, let’s check out the best moral stories in English for your kids. You can also translate these moral stories for kids in your regional language according to the understanding level of your kids.

Best Moral Stories for Kids

Sera Learns to Fly

It is a short story for kids by Vinitha who always believed that each girl should fly.

Sera was a tiny black Ant who had a dream. She always wanted to fly. Her elder sister used to tell her that ants don’t dream and can never fly. Her ant colonies used to laugh at her. But Sera never stopped dreaming.

Her cousins and sisters had worked all day and they used to hum.

“We have crumbs to pick,

We have crumbs to stack!

We have routes to find,

We have doors to mend,

We have walls to climb!”

So Sera too stacked crumbs and helped mend doors. She used to look after the baby ants too. But at night she climbed up the hill and stared at the sky. She sighed, “I wish I could fly, I wish I had wings!”

Sera was lost in her dreams and then she saw the leaves of the pipal tree which were drifting down slowly. Here she got an idea. She smiled mysteriously and took her sister Hira along with her.

Sera hauled the leaf and ran up the tree. They ran up the trunk and to the top branch. A breeze stirred and Sera clambered on to the leaf. Her sister gave the leaf a mighty push and Sera flew that night. Her laughter woke up the entire colony of ants and all the ants flew that night.

Gatila

It is a short story with moral in English by Lisa Dias Noronha and Anjora Noronha dedicated to their grandmother who had Gatila as her pet.

Once upon a time, there were two skinny sisters in a small village of Goa. Their father brought home a black cow to give fresh milk who was named Gatila.

Gatila used to wake up early in the morning and get milked. Then she used to roam around until sunset and return to the shed for her meal. She was a happy cow but she did not like her single black color.

One day she saw a frog and wanted to be green like him as nature is also green. She found a tin of jungle-green paint and set to work.

The next day she was all green and met a swarm of bees who laughed at her green color. Now she started liking their color – yellow like the sun and black like the night.

The next morning, there was a yellow and black striped cow grazing in the field. A group of white egrets laughed at her and told her that white is right. Late-night Gatila painted herself white – bright and light. But she soon had brown mud spots all over her.

Now, she could not stop looking at a peacock and a peahen – royal! They said you look so terrible and muddy brown is not your color. She asked them what is the best color and Peacock spread his feathers. She thanked him and quickly ran home.

The next day was the worst day as everyone laughed at her that cows are not supposed to be blue. She got tired and sad. She also tried the creative colors of a butterfly but nothing made her happy.

Gatila hid in one corner of the garden and the very first monsoon shower helped her. It began to rain that slowly dripped all the color off her. When the sun came out finally, Gatila stood with her head bowed but her coat shining.

Both the sisters told her that she is the most beautiful cow. Now, she was a happy cow who looks at her jet black hide and smile!

Little Cloud’s Quest

This is the shortest story with moral by Stephen Aitken and Sylvia Sikundar.

There was a little cloud who was sad and lonely. The wind carried him up in the sky and they flew really high. When they reached high up above the tall windmills, the air had thinned. They met lots of wispy cirrus clouds that float high up in the sky.

(Cloud Fact: Cirrus clouds generally appear grey or white in color and are formed 20,000 feet above the sea level. It is a sunny day when thin cirrus clouds are high up in the blue sky.)

Little cloud tried to stretch up to get thin but cirrus clouds laughed at him for being so slow. He went away to find other friends.

Now, he saw a cluster of fluffy clouds but they did not want to play with Little cloud. Sadly, he moved from the high mountains to the low lying valleys.

(Cloud Fact: White fluffy cumulus clouds means no rain and grey cumulonimbus clouds brings the rain!)

Suddenly, Little cloud heard a chorus from desert children who wanted him to stay with them. He laughed with delight and his sad tears turned into a shower of joy.

Children were so happy that all the cirrus, cumulus, and cumulonimbus clouds joined in. They all became good friends.

4. Polar Bear

The shortest moral story for kids by Norbert Rosing.

Some years ago, he was in the icy wilds of Canada with his dogs. Suddenly, there was a big polar bear in front of them. His dogs were frightened. Then, guess what happened! The polar bear came near to the dogs. He only wanted a friend to hug.

An adorable tale about a most unlikely friendship!

Polar Bears are our friends, their world is getting smaller because of cutting down of trees. The climate is changing and the sea ice in the Arctic is melting. Take a pledge to take good care of your animal friends and Mother Nature.

[Read Benefits of Storytelling]

Reading kids’ moral stories is a way to teach them moral values and good manners. By making the moral stories for kids more interactive, you come to know about your kid’s thinking and viewpoint.

A story with a moral in English also opens a doorway to creative writing and storytelling in a different manner. It is a good way to teach good habits for kids.

#good moral stories #very short stories with morals #short stories with moral values #moral stories with pictures #inspirational moral stories #Best Moral Stories for Kids #Stories for Kids #Moral Stories for Kids

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gravehags · 7 months ago

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Polyghouls you say? The girls kidnap borrow mountain for a few hours, because who can resist climbing a mountain with your friends ;)

I uh. Did not anticipate for this to get this long. And wow did I have fun with it.

Pairing: Mountain x Ghoulettes

Rating: EXPLICIT MDNI

Words: too many

Tags: fivesome, oral (m receiving), makeouts, penetrative sex, ghoul on ghoulette on ghoulette on ghoulette on ghoulette action

~~~

“What did you say you needed help with?”

“Oh, you know,” Aurora chirps, gently but firmly dragging Mountain by the hand down the corridor. “Need some stuff high up. Lifting. That sort of thing.”

Mountain furrows his brow.

“No one’s stronger than Cumulus and Cirrus so I’m not sure why—“

Aurora is at the end of her rope with this one. If she didn’t hurry up and secure the bag, Sunny was going to give her hell.

“Yeah but no one is as big and tall as you, Mount,” she gushes, tugging him forward, “we need you.”

Mountain blushes and clears his throat. Something about compliments from the tiny ghoulette currently hauling him at an impressive speed always gives him butterflies. And so, he lets her guide him down the hall to the ghoulettes’ quarters, happy to be of assistance. When they reach the door Aurora flashes him a bright little smile which he mirrors before she opens it and shoves him in with surprising force.

“Finally, ‘Rora we thought you’d never get here.”

Their private little living room has been turned into a veritable den of sin in her absence, with all three ghoulettes lounging on cushions and pillows in varying levels of nudity and gazing at their prize.

Their prize gazes back. Oh, does he gaze.

“H-hi, girls,” he manages to breathe, his belly and his pants suddenly tight. “You needed help reaching something?”

Cumulus fixes Aurora with a stare.

“Really, Aurora? That’s what you told him?”

The petite ghoulette is halfway through stripping off her own clothes and nearly topples over in indignation.

“Hey, I got him here, yeah? You play fetch the ghoul next time.”

It’s not the first time Mountain has seen the ghoulettes naked it’s just…all of them. All at once. Looking so soft and so warm. And looking at him so…hungrily.

“Why, uh, why am I here? Actually.”

Sunshine snorts and a now fully nude Aurora sidles up behind him and runs her hands over his shoulder blades and down his back.

“We thought you deserved a treat, big boy,” Cirrus purrs, her fingers toying with a lock of Cumulus’ hair, “don’t you want us?”

His eyes dart to Sunny. Then Cumulus. Then Aurora. Then back to Cirrus.

“All of you?” he asks, incredulous and a little impressed. “At once?”

“Mmhmm,” Aurora murmurs, standing in front of him to begin unbuttoning his shirt. “You work so hard, Mount. We just want to take care of you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He gurgles an affirmation as he lets Aurora tug his shirt out of his pants and throw it behind him.

“Like all of us taking turns with you? Bouncing on your cock? Sucking you off? We want to be good to you, baby. Let us be good to you.”

His mouth has gone completely dry at this point and to drive her point home, Aurora runs a small hand over the tent in his pants. The way she gazes up at him is all it takes for him to lose control. Bending down, he grabs her by the hips and lifts her, wrapping her legs around his waist. A delighted shriek comes from her and all at once the ghoulettes are on him. Lips and teeth nip at him as they remove the remainder of his clothing and lay him down on the cushions. They surround him, his little temporary harem, and Sunshine wastes no time in kissing a path down his chest. Suddenly, Cumulus grabs Aurora and kisses her, slow and wet, their limbs tangling before him.

“Like what you see?” Cirrus murmurs from beside him, her fingers running through his hair. Sunny’s path brings her face to face with his cock, hard and red and leaking. She gives him a quick smile before darting her tongue out and scooping up the dribble of pre that is sliding down his shaft.

“You’re always so sweet to us, Mount,” Cirrus purrs in his ear, “you take care of everybody. This is the least you deserve.”

Sunny removes her mouth from his cock in favor of stroking it and looking over her shoulder at the show behind her. Aurora has Cumulus on her back, sucking greedily on her nipple while working her fingers between her legs. When she draws them away and they glisten in the low light, he moans loudly.

“Give him a taste, ‘Rora,” Cumulus breathes from her pillows. Aurora crawls over to him and giggles as she places the tips of her fingers on his bottom lip. Eagerly his tongue slides out and he sucks them in, relishing the sweet taste of Cumulus.

“Clean them off nice and good, baby,” Aurora grins before peppering a series of kisses to the line of his jaw. When she pulls back and leans across his chest for a hot kiss with Cirrus, his head tips back against the pillows.

“Fuck, you’re all so…so…”

All eyes are on him now, smiles curling at their lips.

“Fucking beautiful. We don’t—ah,” Sunny lowers herself to suck the head of his cock into her mouth, “we don’t deserve you.”

A round of low laughter bounces off the walls of the small room.

“Tell that to Dew and Swiss next time they need help with their rut, yeah?” Cirrus smirks, tracing patterns into his chest.

He wants to lavish them with praise, tell them how perfect they are, but in an instant Sunny slides her mouth over his shaft and sucks. His hand flies to her russet curls.

“Fuck, Sun,” he moans, “just like that.”

Her mouth is unhurried as it takes the length of him, then sliding off completely. He very nearly whines until she begins sucking on his balls, letting her tongue dance around the skin.

“Don’t get him off too quickly,” Cirrus gently chastises the ghoulette between his legs, “we all want a turn.”

Sunny grins with all her teeth, “Oh we can easily get more than one out of him, isn’t that right handsome?”

Mountain laughs and regards them all with hazy eyes.

“I’ll stay here as long as you want me, girls.”

“Good boy,” Cirrus smiles, and the words make his cock twitch. “I think Aurora should get the honor of the first since she did the fetching.”

The petite ghoulette, currently in a tangle of limbs and tongues with Cumulus, gently attempts to extricate herself from the curvy ghoulette’s grip. Cumulus laughs and slaps her ass sharply.

“Go on, Rory,” she says, giving her nipple one last pinch, “I’ve always want to watch you take him.”

Sunshine obligingly moves out of the way so that Aurora can crawl up his body.

“Let’s show them how good this little cunt is at taking this big, fat cock, huh Mount?”

Her interactions with Cumulus have left her soaked, and she takes him firmly in hand to show him just how much.

“Fuck, ‘Rora,” he says hoarsely, “need you.”

“I know, baby,” she coos, lifting her hips up to and sliding down to prod at her entrance. “Gonna give you exactly what you want.”

Cirrus, Sunshine, and Cumulus are all rapt as they watch the tiny ghoulette slowly sink onto Mountain’s massive cock. Aurora whimpers and pants from the stretch but won’t give up until her hips are flush against his. When she does exactly that, Sunshine lets out a low whistle.

“Unholy shit, Rory,” she breathes, most impressed. “Remind me never to doubt your choice in toys again.”

Aurora beams and looks down at the ghoul beneath her. Mountain’s face is flushed, lips parted and damp, his eyes glossy as he looks up at her with adoration.

“‘Rora,” he says hoarsely, “p-please move.”

And so she does. Slowly, at first, sliding off him then taking him back in. She’s content at this pace for a few minutes, when Mountain’s fingers dig into her hips.

“Wanna watch you bounce on his cock,” Cumulus purrs, her head in Cirrus’ lap.

Aurora looks down at the ghoul inside her.

“That what you want, Mount?”

“Y-yes. Yes. Fuck ‘Rora I need it.”

She leans down to place a sweet kiss on his lips before straightening her back. In an instant her movements become sharp and frantic, riding him with impressive force. He looks up at her - the way her long hair hangs in her face, the way sweat slides down her sternum, the way her beautiful little tits bounce with the rhythm - and he is awestruck. She keeps worrying at her lower lip as she pants atop him and he knows she’s close.

“So good, Mount, touch me.”

Without a second thought his fingers fly to where the two of them are joined and his thumb rubs rapid circles over her swollen clit. Her cries become ever louder and her back arches as she takes him over and over. Beside him Sunshine lets out a groan and he feels the warmth of her cum spurting onto his side. Cirrus and Cumulus are lip locked but their eyes remain on their fellow ghoulette.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum, fuck Mountain, yes baby that’s it, just like that.”

When she cums, her mouth hangs open in a silent scream and her cunt spasms around him. That’s all it takes for him to topple over the edge and suddenly he’s fucking up into her, painting her walls with ropes of seed as he chants her name. When both their hips finally slow, she collapses on his chest, her sweat-slick breasts pressed firmly against him. There’s a silence, from everyone, as they allow the couple to catch their breath and regain their bearings. Aurora takes advantage of the quiet to prop her chin up on Mountain’s chin. Silently she places one, two, three kisses to his face before pushing back and easing herself off of him. When she falls backwards and spreads her legs, Mountain growls as they all watch his cum leak from her red and swollen cunt.

“You done, sweetheart?” Cirrus asks from beside him, raking fingers through his hair once more. “Or do you think you can take more of us?”

He laughs, exhausted but up for the challenge.

“Give—give me a minute. Then I’ll let you all have your wicked way with me.”

Sunshine snorts in his ear and places a swift kiss to his cheek before wiping her cum off his belly. Cumulus and Cirrus recline on their respective pillows, chatting about recent abbey gossip. And Aurora, sweet Aurora, sits across from him still catching her breath. When he smiles at her she gives him a saucy little wink and blows a kiss.

He’d help the ghoulettes get something off the top shelf any day.

#polyghouls #mountain ghoul #aurora ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #mountain x aurora x cirrus x sunshine x cumulus #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoulettes #rachel writes

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maple-writes · 5 years ago

Text

I’ve been really enjoying writing this story recently and this time it seemed a little more like I was just along for the ride instead of being the mastermind behind it all. I hope you like it!

Wattpad

When I got home, probably past midnight but my phone had died before I stepped through the front door. I blinked against the soft light spilling from the living room into the doorway. Striker was working early tomorrow morning, he should have been asleep by now. Curiosity guided me as I poked my head through the doorframe.

Cirrus stared back at me, sitting alone in an armchair. For a moment neither of us did anything, eyes locked in the quiet dim of the living room. I hadn’t seen him today; even when I left at eleven he was still in his room, probably sleeping. Relief eased the tension building in my shoulders. He didn’t seem upset, at least not that I could tell, sitting leaned back in the cushions with a sleepy face.

He broke eye contact first, glancing towards the kitchen. “There should be some hot water ready.” His voice was quiet as the night. “If you want it.”

A smile tugged at my cheeks. I’d had some of Ginger’s mixture before I left her office earlier, but the fatigue seeped back into my body between then and now. I thanked him quietly before dipping into the kitchen and steeping the tea. It was warm in my hands as I brought it back to the living room, settling down across from Cirrus.

He leaned back, resting his cheek on a propped up hand. His hair was damp, like he’d had a shower not long before, and he wore soft-looking pyjamas. I shifted in my seat, tucking my legs in and crossing them under my body. What were the odds that Striker got him to do that?

“So…” I broke the silence. “How’re you doing?”

Cirrus shrugged with a long, slow blink. “Alright.” He stretched his legs out in front of him with a yawn. “Striker took me on a walk, and we got dinner and talked.” He nodded toward the center coffee table. “Found that at the beach, you can have it.”

I followed his gaze to the shell placed delicately on a coaster, half a scallop shell about the size of my palm, pinkish with dark ridges. The underside was smooth and milky white under my fingertips. The arching curve of the top fit nicely in my hand, and I couldn’t help but run my thumb along it’s sides. This one might end up being too big for the box, but I’d find somewhere else for it to live.

“It’s beautiful,” I smiled across the coffee table, watching his own expression mirror mine. “Thank you.”

Quiet pressed in from the walls as I set the shell back down. Taking a sip of my tea, I watched him over the rim of the mug. Was there something he wanted to tell me? Why else would he be up waiting for me to get back? I swallowed and lowered my hands to my lap. Hopefully whatever it was he would bring it up himself. I didn’t know where to start.

He sighed, dropping his propped hand. “Striker, he…” Cirrus lowered his eyes. “I didn’t think he cared about me, not that much anyway. I thought I was maybe a step above a nuisance.”

My heart sunk. “That’s not true.” I paused, with a small shrug. “He just keeps a lot to himself.”

“You’re right,” Cirrus nodded, turning his head to hide a yawn. He kept his face to the side as he paused, sighing heavily. “I…”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting his head rest back against the armchair. By the way he kept his face hidden, I wondered if maybe he was going to cry. I swallowed, my jaw tight.

Cirrus glanced at me through the corners of his eyes. “I don’t think this is what my mother wanted when she sent me here.” He paused, thinking. “I think she wanted me to suffer on my own, maybe even be taken advantage of or mistreated by the whoever found me.” A grin tugged at his lips, sharp and toothy. “I bet she was pissed when you found me with good intent.”

I took a long sip of my tea, trying to figure out what to say. Nerves writhed in my chest. He hadn’t told me very much about dragons and their society, but the more I heard the less I liked.

Finally, I took a deep breath and lowered the mug. “She sounds…” What was the right word? “Harsh.”

But Cirrus only shrugged. “She’s the queen. She couldn’t have a son like me to undermine her standing.”

“But you’re her son,” I leaned forward. “Why would she wish such bad things on you?”

Cirrus held my gaze, level and tired, before sighing and letting his eyes slide closed. “I don’t know Ash.” His voice cinched. “I’m scared that she doesn’t miss me as much as I miss her. My sisters too.”

He paused, quiet filling the midnight air save for the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. It sailed a steady rhythm through the silence, breaking it into grounding sections. I wanted to say something, something to make him feel at least a bit better, but I couldn’t think of anything. What was I supposed to say? If only I were Striker; he always seemed to much better at this than me. All I could do was stare, the weight of silence heavier on my chest with every shallow breath.

“If Eventide is my home now than so be it.” Cirrus lifted his chin, a sneer spread across his face, the low light catching the points of his teeth. “If she wants me gone I’ll stay gone, and if she wants me back she can hunt me down and plead.” Before I could say anything, Cirrus planted his hands on either side of the armchair and pushed himself to standing. “It’s me she’s going to have to beg for forgiveness now.”

I opened my mouth, but then he was gone, slipping up the stairs before I could even decide what to say. I stared up the stairs after him, my tea growing cold in my hands.

The first drops of rain landed rhythmic against the windows and wind shook trees lit by orange streetlights.

I set my mug on the coffee table, staring out at the rainstorm. The gentle patter against the roof, against the windows made my eyes grow heavy. It was late, anyways. My body seemed to sink into the chair as I let my eyes slide closed. Maybe I’d just rest here a few minutes. Then I’d go upstairs to bed. Just a few minutes.

Rain soaked my clothes, warmth leaching from my skin to the muddy grass beneath my outstretched back.

My eyes flew open to rain falling from grey dawn clouds above my head. My hair clung cold to my scalp and my breath came racing in frozen lungs. I sucked in a breath and sat up as quickly as my iced muscles would allow. Where..?

My neck ached as I forced my head up. There were bushes nearby giving way to tall leafy trees with leaves dancing in the rain. On the other side was an empty outdoor stage. I squinted. I must have been in the park by the seaside. But how—

A rabbit lay on the grass only a few feet away, staring up at me with glassy eyes. Its tiny wet side rose and fall with slow breaths. I leaned, but it didn’t seem to care, following me with it’s eyes but not moving a muscle. My hand shook as I reached for it.

Nothing. My eye widened as my blood ran cold as the water soaking my clothes. There was nothing; no fear, apprehension, feeling. It was empty. A shell. Hollow and draining. My stomach twisted. It was wrong. Wrong. It didn’t have a soul. It didn’t have a spirit, acting only on flesh and blood and the involuntary commands of nerve signals. Hollow and empty.

Did… I stared down at my trembling hands. Bringing my fingers to my cheek, my heart pounded against the bone of my ribs as the last scraps of energy from what would have been the spirt of the rabbit on my fingers warmed the tips.

Horror slammed into me like an icy wave. Fingernails digging into the back of my neck I curled, hunched into myself. My breath came fast and shallow and hot. My body shook and my eyes stretched wide at the soaked ground. What happened? What happened? Where was I? What happened?

What did I do?

Breathe. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced a deep breath into my chest. Breathe. Again. Again. I dropped my hands and stared up at the raindrops falling over my shoulders. What time was it? With a shaking hand I felt for my phone, but it wasn’t there. I’d put it down somewhere when I’d made my tea, hadn’t I? Damn it.

“Asher!”

Cirrus’ voice came from across the field. He sprinted across the rain-softened ground, stumbling in the mud until skidding to a stop before me. He stared, horrified with his mouth agape and face tense before dropping to one knee and gripping my shoulders in both his hands.

“Asher can you hear me?” His voice sounded far away, but louder with every frantic syllable. “Asher talk to me!” He gave my shoulders a shake the jostled my sea-fog head. “Asher!”

I stared with eyes as glazed as the rabbit until the words made their way to my mouth. “Cirrus.”

He nodded. “It’s me. Are you okay?”

Was I okay? My gaze drifted from the panic on his face to the rain dancing on blades of green grass. But Cirrus’s hand went to my chin and turned my head back to him.

“Hey,” he said. “Answer me!”

“What…” I brought my hand over top his. It was warm, his skin. I could barely feel the racing blood, the sharp worry, the serrated panic dripping from his body. “What happened?” I swallowed. “Where am I?”

Cirrus opened his mouth, then closed it again. His own hair was soaked, and his clothes clung to him like mine did to me. I scrunched my face. What time was it? How long had we been out here? What was he doing out here too?

“You…” Cirrus took his hand back from my face and rain it through his hair. “I don’t know.” He paused, thought racing behind his eyes. “You just… You stood up and you walked out into the street and then you ran away when I tried to follow you.”

Really? I drew one of my knees up to my chest, resting my arm over top of my thigh. “Sleepwalking?” My mind went to the empty rabbit, but I held my tongue. He didn’t need to know. Didn’t need to know what I might have done.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

I nodded, more to myself than anything. He was worried, the fear filling even the air around him. Groaning, I braced myself against a bent knee and hauled myself to stand. I stumbled for balance a moment, almost slipping on the wet grass before grabbing Cirrus’ outstretched arm to steady myself. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself to try and protect at least a little from the breeze biting through the wet clothes.

“Do you,” Cirrus swallowed. “Do you think you should see a doctor?”

I shook my head. “Let’s go home.”

He seemed reluctant, but started to lead me toward the sidewalk. I held his arm as forced my frozen legs to move and tried not to think about the rabbit that had stared back at me from the wet grass. My fingers curled and uncurled at my sides. Had I done that? My jaw tightened. Why? Why did I..?

I hunched my shoulders and leaned against Cirrus’ warm side. He glanced down, surprised until he seemed to notice the shivering. For a moment he didn’t seem to react, then cautiously extended his arm to lay it gingerly over my shoulders. He looked surprised when I leaned into the touch and warmth it brought.

“What time is it?” My voice came as a mumble, hopefully loud enough for Cirrus to hear.

He glanced at his watch. “Five in the morning.” He must have been exhausted, trying to find me for hours and hours in the pouring rain.

“Thanks.” I took a deep breath to sigh. “For following me.”

Cirrus shrugged, tucking his other hand into his pocket. He yawned and shook out his head, scattering droplets of water. I swallowed, letting my head fall to stare at our footsteps on the wet concrete. He hadn’t noticed, had he? Hadn’t noticed the tiny soulless body laying next to mine. Good. I barely suppressed a shudder. I didn’t want to know what I’d done to the poor little thing. I didn’t want to know why it’s soul hadn’t been anywhere nearby, or why my fingertips still held warmth they shouldn’t.

Striker was in the kitchen when we dragged ourselves in through the front door, dripping and sluggish. He bolted from the kitchen and froze wide-eyed in front of us.

“What happened?” His voice went tight and I could see him looking both of us from head to toe. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, but my voice shook. “I’m fine.”

But he didn’t look like he believed me, his body ridged and his face panicked. “Wait here.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll go get you some towels.”

Before either of us could respond, he’d turned on his heels and hurried up the stairs. I looked up after him, then dropped my gaze to the floor until his footsteps came quickly back. He wrapped a soft towel around my shoulders and another around my head before doing the same to Cirrus. My arms seemed to move on their own as I stared to dry myself off.

“Here,” Striker’s voice was calm, and I glanced up at him through the corner of my eyes. “I’ll put some dry clothes over here for you.”

He disappeared back into the kitchen as we got dried, peeled off our wet clothes and got changed, returning with two warm mugs. My jaw tightened. He should be getting ready for work, not looking after us. But I bit back my words as he ushered us into the living room, set down the drinks and started to gather blankets.

“What the Hell were you doing out there?” Striker stood in front of us on the other side of the coffee table once he’d practically buried us in every blanket he could find.

I stared up at him, thoughts gathering in my head, but Cirrus was the first to speak.

“He just ran off,” He glanced at me. “I tried to follow him but he ran away and I lost him until—”

“I was tired.” My voice was tight. “I must have been sleepwalking.”

The room went silent as Striker and Cirrus stared. It was probable, right?

Cirrus leaned closer. “Asher, I could hear you shrieking and cackling from three blocks away.”

Striker’s face paled. “What?”

I reached for the mug placed in front of me and took a long sip. It was sweet; hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows. I took my time. All eyes rested on me for some kind of explanation, but instead anger sparked sharp and threatening in my chest. What did they want me to say?

“I don’t know,” I set the mug back down and crossed my arms. “But I’m fine now.” They weren’t buying it. “I’ll just have to rest today and I should be fine after that.”

But Striker just shook his head. “No, Asher—”

“I said I’ll be fine!”

My shout cut him off and he stared, shocked. Cirrus tensed beside me, but I kept my eyes on Striker, my eyes set in a glare and a growl in my throat.

“Go to work before you’re late.” The words scraped my throat and fell sharp off my tongue. “I was sleepwalking. I’m home now. I’m fucking fine.”

I held Striker’s stare, eyes burning and teeth clenched. My heart beat heavy and hot in my chest. I didn’t have to fucking explain myself to him. I barely knew what happened, what the Hell did he want me to say? There was nothing, nothing he could do and he should have known.

Finally, he took a deep breath and forced his shoulders back. “Asher, you have never sleepwalked in your life, what makes you so sure that’s what happened?” He paused like he wanted to say something else, but cut himself off with a sigh. “I’m worried about you.”

Of course he was, that was all he did, wasn’t it? I took a sharp breath and pushed myself to standing. My limbs shook with the anger coursing through my blood and tearing at my sternum. Striker’s eyes widened and he stiffened, glancing at Cirrus through the corner of his eyes. I tore the blanket from my shoulders and threw it on the couch, making Cirrus flinch as it landed next to him.

A sick grin spread on my face. “What, are you scared of me or something?” I sneered. “Coward.”

“Asher sit down.” Striker raised his voice and squared his shoulders. “Now.”

I snarled and turned. “Or what?” I took a step towards him, baring my teeth.

Striker brought his hands up, open in front of him. “Calm down, Ash, this isn’t like you.” He rounded the coffee table and stopped an arm’s length in front of me, hand out like I was dangerous. “Take some deep breaths for me, okay?” This close, I could see how his arms shook.

My hands balled into fists, fingernails digging into my palms. How dare he tell me what to do. I took another step towards him but before I could do anything he snatched my wrists in each of his hands.

I yelped as he forced me to the floor, lowering me as best he could despite my thrashing and trying to kick at his legs. He pinned my arms out at my sides, face set in a grimace.

“Cirrus,” he glanced over his shoulder. “Get his legs under control.”

I swore as Cirrus jumped from the couch to do as he was told, struggling against both him and Striker as they held me down with my back against the floor. My heart pounded in my ears and I snarled, twisting my neck to try and bite at Striker’s arm. But I couldn’t quite reach, no matter how hard I tried.

“Let me go!” I screamed. “Let me go!”

“Ash, Ash look at me,” Striker’s voice drew my attention again, dead serious. “Breathe. Get a hold of yourself.”

Cirrus leaned as far forward as he could to speak low into Striker’s ear. “Should we call someone? Ginger?”

I thrashed my leg, catching Cirrus by surprise. He barely managed to grab hold of my calf again before I could land a kick to his side. How dare they. How dare they!

Striker bit his lower lip, eyes locked on mine. His eyebrows furrowed, pained, as he nodded. “Help me get him, shit, somewhere without windows.” He closed his eyes, thinking before opening them again. “Bathroom.”

Cirrus nodded and I snarled, kicking and thrashing as much as I could under their grip. Between the two of them they half carried, half dragged me up the stairs. Rage flared hotter in my blood and I yelled, loud and wordless.

Striker had to open the door with his shoulder, muscles strained as he tried not to drop me from his grip around my chest as he struggled to get the door opened. Finally, the handle clicked the door swung open.

“I’m sorry Ash,” Striker hissed as he hauled me into the bathroom. “I’m so sorry.”

He set me down and they rushed out the door, shutting it firmly behind them. I twisted on the tile floor, hauling myself up to grab at the door knob to try and force it open, but someone on the other side held it firm.

I slammed the side of my fist against the wood. “Open the door!” They didn’t respond. “Open this door or I swear I’ll—”

I froze, hand hovering over the door. Or I’d what?

Or I’d what?

My shoulders heaved as I stared at my fist. I staggered back until I bumped into the glass shower door and sunk to the floor. Legs sprawled across the cold tile in front of me I leaned back against the shower, eyes stretched wide as I stared straight ahead.

Striker’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door and far away. I couldn’t pick out the words. My hands fell limp to my sides and I swallowed. I wanted to grab, to rip, to dig my fingers into skin and tear out what I could.

Breathe. I rested my head back and fought to control my shallow breathing, to slow my heart that raced for a fight. The room echoed with my ragged breaths and rasps. Slowly, I slid, slumping down to lay on the cold tile floor. I curled my legs to my chest and blinked, slow and mechanical at the door that stayed shut.

What would I have done?

#The city of eventide #chapter fifteen #wriblr #my writing #original fiction #fantasy #some stuff goes down in this one #Its wild

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