#the unreal viscount

[dreamyfanfix]

Chapter 3: Unsettling

Previously on the Bachelor. The contestants were separated into two teams of eleven and had to put on a play. Things got heated with group A as Claudia and Maria got came to blows. [insert clip of Claudia and Maria fighting over who should be the lead of their play. The group voted for Maria after her plea of having stage experience as a singer]. In the end, it was Maria's inability to remember lines that lasted longer than 3 minutes that gave group B their edge (with Anthony's brother Benedict here to judge) and it was group B that won the outing with The Bachelor, Anthony [insert clip of group B being announced the winners and some members of group A, Claudia and Rachel, complaining about Maria]

Today, the winners of the last episode will have a nice fun time at a salsa dancing class where each of them will get a chance to dance with Anthony but this class is more than education and whoever Anthony feels he has the best dance chemistry with will be the winner of the first one-on-one date of the season. The stakes are high but remember the first one-on-one date could set the tone for the season and the aforementioned winner could get a rose before the ceremony at the end of the day [insert Anthony talking to a mysterious lady about how much chemistry he is feeling]

Just remember dears, Lady Whistledown will be watching.

--

"Daphne, what the fuck are you doing here?" Anthony said immediately after shutting the door to his room.

"I just wanted to see you," she said sheepishly.

"Okay you have seen me now get out of here before anyone gets a long look at you and see that you are pregnant," Anthony gesticulates towards the door.

Daphne sniffles and then starts crying "I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to talk to,"

Anthony immediately feels bad and embraces his sister while directing her to sit down on his soft couch. "Daf what's wrong? Is it Simon?"

Daphne sniffed "Yes and no. These pregnancy hormones are doing a number on me but it's about you,"

"What about me?"

"I know why you are doing this and I feel bad-" he tried to interject but Daphne held her hand up "-please just let me finish," He nodded and Daphne continued "I know you are doing this so no one finds about me and Simon and I feel bad. You never liked having public relationships and now you are dating multiple women on national television and it's all my fault," 

Anthony took a deep breath. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't known what to say to his sister or his family about this situation for months. "I'll handle it," was kind of his motto at this point.

When Daphne and Simon had shown up on his London doorstep 5 months ago having eloped, he was disappointed. Disappointed in his sister's choice of partner but also that Daphne had forgone all of the things that she had always wanted as a little girl: the big wedding with all her family there and yeah it hurt that one of the few things that Anthony looked forward to as the family's pseudo father figure was the ability to walk his sister down the aisle and he missed that chance with Daphne. Despite it all, Anthony swallowed his disappointment and helped Daphne and Simon announce their situation to the rest of the family. Anthony usually sat at the head of the table so he had a clear view of everyone's reactions. His mother Violet Bridgerton looked at him first and then smiled at Daphne and Simon, taking her daughter's hand. Hyacinth and Gregory who hadn't quite learnt any tact yet asked about Fred and everyone looked at Daphne and Simon, while Anthony took another sip of his drink. It burnt his throat as it went down but he needed it.

Daphne thought she might have been helping the situation because even Eloise joined in on complaining about the suddenness of Daphne's nuptials. Daphne looked to Anthony for help but he shrugged his shoulders, he had warned her. Mostly he warned her that if she could not stand up to the scrutiny of the family when Daphne does eventually go public about her and Simon's relationship the scrutiny would be even more heavy. She then exclaimed, "I'm pregnant!" It silenced the table and Anthony had honestly never seen his family so shocked since Colin had run off a month ago to go chasing after a girl who did not want him. His mother stood up to congratulate Daphne in a hug which got Daphne to finally relax while the siblings all murmured congratulations while Fran, Hyacinth ad Greg spoke about who the favourite Aunt/Uncle was going to be.

Anthony thought it was over, at least for a while, until he got an appointment request from Charlotte Queen. Anthony was prepared to grovel for her forgiveness on behalf of his sister but instead of an angry executive, he got a cool and calm one. Which to be honest, was a lot scarier to him. Charlotte came as a courtesy to let Anthony know that she was going to be making her nephew the new Bachelor. At first, Anthony did not understand why that was news until he realised that that would mean people would be asking questions about why Daphne and Friederich did not work and whatever Fred said on the show could make or break Daphne's reputation. Friederich wasn't a bad guy but he was incredibly sincere and a bit naive, it made it hard for people not to be on his side. It could easily make Daphne look bad especially when news of her pregnancy got out. Anthony asked Charlotte if there was anything he could do to get Frederich out of the next season and Charlotte made it clear that she would someone of equal standing to take her nephew's place. Anthony knew what he had to do next. It was excruciating but after cancelling his meetings for the day and having meetings with all his solicitors and media people it became clear that this could do good things not just for Daphne but as a way to clean up his romantic image as well.

Later that week when Anthony announced that he was going to be the next Bachelor his news gave way to a very mixed reception. Ben and Colin went in on the teasing Hy and Greg were intrigued but it was Eloise who was able to figure out that Anthony had secret motives. That is when Anthony had to come clean about why he was doing it. Everyone understood and no one could offer up any other solutions so Violet then proceeded with the Sunday lunch and the family moved on to lighter topics.

After the lunch was over Anthony went outside to get some fresh, not to smoke a stress cigarette, and Simon came out to speak to him. It was stilted at first, in a lot of ways Anthony had lost one of his oldest and dearest friends to his sister and no one knew how he was feeling. Anthony had a line drawn in the sand for their relationship now: Simon was Daphne's husband and that was that. Things took a turn when Simon commented how this could be a good thing for Anthony and his philandering ways when Anthony lost it. He didn't know when he started but he knew that he was punching Simon relentlessly and Simon did not fight back, it only made him angrier. It was only when Ben came to pull Anthony off Simon did Anthony see the damage he had done. Every one of his siblings looked at him like he was something to be afraid of and Anthony did not stop to speak to any of them as he left Bridgerton House.

It had 4 months since the incident and everyone in the family had moved on. Everyone except Daphne, who he hadn't spoken to in months. He got information about how she was doing from their mother and his siblings but he realised that he could not speak to Daphne or Simon without getting angry and he did not want to be angry around his pregnant little sister.

"Daf I don't know what you want me to say," Anthony said softly.

"I want you to speak to Simon," Daphne said looking at him with those bright teary eyes.

"What would we speak about? I already apologised for the punches. It's done now,"

"Except it's not done. Simon was your best friend. The only other people you are close with are Benedict and Fife, and Fife is terrible and Ben is family,"

"Simon's family now too Daphne, that's what happens when you get married,"

"I know I just didn't think you would lose your friendship over this," she said softly

Anthony got up feeling agitated "Well, we did. He went from being my best friend to your husband that's how these things work,"

"He can still be your friend," Daphne pleaded.

"Except he can't Daf. Not the way he used to be. Simon was the person who I could go to outside of this family, whose loyalty was to me first. It was nice it was freeing at times but now he's your husband and that means his loyalty is to you first," Daphne looked like she wanted to interrupt but Anthony continued "And that's okay. I wouldn't want it any other way for you and my baby niece or nephew in there but it just means I have to keep things a little close to the chest a bit. It may not be this glamourized version of how you thought this was going to go when you married your brother's best friend but it is what it has to be. At least for now,"

Daphne sniffed some more and nodded her head "I wish I had done things differently,"

Before Anthony could answer her there was a knock on the dressing room door.

It took Anthony right out of his moment and he went to go answer it. It was Kate.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," Kate was so beautiful sometimes he needed a moment to adjust "Listen I don't have the time right now to speak,"

"Yeah, I didn't come to speak to you. Well, I did but not like that. Sophie and another line producer are coming to get you so that you can record your confessional for some of the contestants,"

Anthony nodded his head and went to close the door but he must have looked confused because Kate stopped the door from closing and said "I'm telling you this because few people know of your guest and the state she is currently in. We all sign NDA's but things get out. You might want her to put on a cap and leave through the back entrance,"

Anthony sighed and nodded "Thanks Kate,"

"No problem. You have 10 minutes," she said as she quickly walked away.

Anthony tried not to get too distracted by Kate's figure walking confidently and rushed to get a 6 months pregnant Daphne out of the studio lot.

--

Edwina was a nice girl. Nice being the operative word here. There was technically nothing wrong with her but as he got mic'ed up for their one-on-one date he could not help but feel like he made the wrong choice. Edwina was just one year younger than Daphne but she had already accomplished a lot, she was a principal dancer with the royal ballet, a dancing ability that helped a lot during today's salsa class, she had a degree in psychology and played the piano splendidly. These were all the things he needed reminding of going into this date because although no one could deny Edwina was a beauty, there was nothing distinct about her looks, bright wide eyes, soft delicate features and a smile that made you want to melt inside. It was usually his type but he could not help make the comparison between her and Kate. He did not know why but every time he saw Edwina he thought of Kate. Where Edwina was polite, Kate was cutting. Where Edwina was soft-spoken, Kate was direct and loud. Edwina was pretty, beautiful even but Kate was stunning. A strong beauty with strong features.

Anthony had to shake himself off from thinking about Kate. It was strange but also it made him uncomfortable that he looked at one Indian woman and saw another. Edwina and Kate may share similarities but it's not like he looked at Josie or Anika and saw Kate so why did Edwina remind him so much of Kate? Was he a racist? No way.

As the date with Edwina went on, they spoke about a few things. Anthony asked if she ever went horseriding and Edwina made a face "No not really. I'm not a big fan of horses. I like the small cute kind of animals that curl up in my lap,"

"The really cute ones like you," Anthony internally cringed at his comment but Edwina seemed to like it.

"Thank you. Tell me about you," Edwina prompted.

"What do you want to know?" He asked.

"What animals do you like? What books have you read? I want to know everything," she said sweetly.

"Everything huh? Well, I like cats and horses. My family owns a breed of horses," Anthony could feel that not only was he losing the interest of Edwina but the crew who seemed bored at the conversation unfolding. It was embarrassing, to say the least, he had never had his romantic charisma on display like this before "But if I had to be honest. The last thing I read was accounts and ledgers for my family company. I know it's incredibly boring,"

Edwina giggled "I don't think so. I love to read so I can keep you appraised about what the shelves are being stocked with for the both of us,"

Anthony chuckled a little bit and said "I'm glad, I always loved being read to. Especially by someone with a smooth voice like yours,"

Edwina visibly blushed and Anthony knew he had her hooked. He really was good at this. They spoke about family, Anthony told her to her shock that he had seven siblings and Edwina was nervous but said she did not have any siblings. Anthony figured her nervousness came from the thought of having seven members of his family she might have to impress.

--

After the end of his date with Edwina, Anthony was feeling invigorated. He liked her. Not as much as someone like Siena, Claudia or Maria but he did not want to give Siena a big head by showing his interest just yet. After recording his confessional, Anthony was able to spot Kate walking around on the grounds.

She was pacing staring at her phone and Anthony knew he should stay clear of her thinking about all the things he has been thinking about since he met her. The way she had already worked her way into his dreams. He convinced himself to go and speak to her by saying it was merely to thank her for the warning about Daphne earlier.

--

"...Yes, but she may be a bit over her head here. She is only doing this because of her grandparents and what they said," Kate said to Mary, her stepmother over the phone.

"Those people are vile Kate but Edwina can handle herself unless there is another reason why you think Edwina should not be in the running for one of England's most eligible Bachelors?" Mary asked with a sweeter tone

'Yeah, Edwina's gay mom' Kate thought but did not say, this was something Edwina was going to have to figure out on her own and she sure as hell was not going to be the one to out her sister.

Kate then heard someone behind her and saw Anthony heading her way. "Hey, Mom I gotta go. Send my love to Newton please,"

"Will do sweetie. I love you,"

"Love you too," As Kate ended the call Anthony had just reached her. Man, he smelled good. If she did not draw the short straw and had to rally footage for the girls in the house today then she would have been able to see his date with Edwina. She was nervous. Edwina was always good at putting on a show she just hopes that she didn't hurt anyone in the process.

"Who's Newton?" Anthony asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked.

"Why did you answer my question with another question? Is he your boyfriend?" He asked.

Kate was surprised by his boldness then again he had a way of making her heart beat faster. "Would that be any of your business?"

"Maybe not but I feel like I have to know," Anthony said.

Was it just her or did his voice get deeper at the end of that sentence? Kate felt herself heating up and said "He's my dog. A small little corgi,"

Anthony said "A dog huh? Why am I still jealous?"

Kate tried not to be affected by his question but she always loved showing pictures of her little boy so she brought her phone out and asked "Do you want to see how cute he is and how no one stands a chance next to him?"

"Sure,"

Kate showed Anthony a picture of her and Edwina lying on the grass with Newton stretched over her legs. Anthony looked taken back and then pointed at the picture it was then that she realised that Edwina was in the picture "You know Edwina?"

"Yes, she's my little sister. I told you I was here for family reasons just like you," Kate said nervously because she knew she should not have shown him that picture but at the same time hoped that it might prompt him to expel her sooner.

"That's surprising,"

"Surprising? Come on we look alike a bit," Kate said self-consciously about the fact that people liked to make jokes about how Edwina was the pretty one and Kate was the smart one. It was condescending but also opened Edwina up to people who liked to take advantage of her because she might not be historically clever.

"I know you look alike. The minute I saw her I thought of you. It was weird I thought I was racist for a second," Anthony was rambling but Kate found it cute.

"Well, take this as a warning to treat her with kindness," Kate said poking him in the chest.

Anthony grabbed her finger that lingered on her chest and Kate's heart skipped a beat "And why aren't you concerned that she might be the one who would be the mean one?"

"Edwina is kind and sweet and one of the few pure things in this world," she said.

Anthony quirked his brow "Is that so?"

"It is," she said.

"Well, I promise to treat her with the exact amount of kindness she gives out," Anthony said as he dropped Kate's finger to her surprise and disappointment.

Anthony walked away even though wanted him to stay. For what? She doesn't know but Kate knew she had to get a grip quickly because Anthony was supposed to be finding love on this show and she cannot be one of those women who is known for sleeping with people on the job.

Later as Kate watched footage of Edwina's date with Anthony did she realise Anthony's confusion. Edwina did not claim her. To be fair they were only half-sisters and a lot of Western families do not claim siblings that were not full but that was not how she and Edwina were raised so even though it hurt she kept on and tried to find the best angle for Edwina to come out of this date.

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 2 - Spring: Three Meetings and a Proposal

Masterpost Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Somehow, you keep running into Neuvillette. When something unexpected happens, he offers you an unexpected proposal. Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine’s regency england (sort of) now? Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please go over there if you'd like to read it faster

Have a picture of neuvillette standing next to the skull of Oroboshi

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A month had passed since that unexpected encounter. You hadn’t told anyone about it, because it felt unreal even to you. Maybe you really had drank too much champagne.

In any case, the events of the ball were quickly forgotten amidst the immense preparations you had to do to obtain your governess license. It was a long, grueling process that involved leaving your hometown and moving all the way to the city, but it was about to bear fruit at last. After one last history exam, you would finally obtain your license and be able to advertise your services in the newspapers and bulletin boards.

And then, you would finally be blissfully freed from all those marriage-hunting obligations. No more balls, no more disappointments...

It was those thoughts that kept you going as you stared at the tiny words in your history textbook while being surrounded by people who seemed determined to scream their lungs out today.

“Get him, get him!” your sweet, adorable sister shouted next to you.

“Send him to jail!” her new beau also shouted from next to her. I’m pretty sure one can’t be sent to jail for hoarding ashtrays, you thought, but said nothing. He probably couldn’t even hear you, anyways.

Today, you were forced to chaperone your sister and the viscount’s son on their “romantic engagement.” Said “romantic engagement” happened to be attending a trial at the Opera Epiclese. Apparently, this was a popular date spot for young couples. It was things like these that made you feel dreadfully old and out of touch sometimes.

The seats were packed for today’s trial, for good reason. This trial was just one part of a lengthy divorce proceeding between a celebrity couple, in which they were trying to figure out how to divide their many, many assets. It was akin to a serial and even had its own dedicated column in the newspapers.

You glanced over at your sister and the young lord. They were whispering together and giggling. Even though the viscount’s son seemed a bit, for the lack of a better word, dopey, from your short interactions with him you could tell that he was a good-hearted and generous young man. Plus, there was a certain charm in watching him and your sister getting closer, the same feeling one would get from observing two cute puppies playing together. Perhaps your mother would live to see one of her daughters get married after all.

You looked back down at your book. You were on the chapter about Remuria, one of your favorite subjects. You loved reading about that long-deceased God King and his drowned empire of music. You knew that there were extensive ruins from that period near the town of Petrichor, but it was much too far and dangerous (without shelling out the exorbitant amounts of money for protection) to go there from the Court of Fontaine, so you could only ever dream of visiting there.

The cacophony faded into the background as you became engrossed in the topic.

It felt like no time had passed before you felt your sister shake your arm. “Sister, Sister! The trial’s over! Let’s go.”

You looked up to see people walking past you towards the exit. Judging from their chatter, the wife seemed to have won. What she was going to do with a vault of ashtrays, you had no idea.

You snapped your book closed and followed everyone else out. “I don’t know how you can read that boring book when there’s such an exciting show going on,” the viscount’s son commented, eyeing the thick textbook.

“Oh, that’s one of Sister’s special powers! The ability to read anywhere, no matter how loud or unsuitable the place is. I don’t know how she does it,” your sister chimed in.

“You can learn it too, you know, if you apply yourself to it,” you informed her.

“Ugh, you’re already talking like a governess,” your sister pouted.

“A governess? You want to be that?” the viscount’s son said, sounding incredulous. Seriously, why does everyone sound so shocked when they hear about it? “I had a governess once. She was always alone and wasn’t even allowed to eat with the family. Seems like a rather miserable job if you asked me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told her, but she won’t change her mind! She kept talking about how it’s ‘her role in life’ and her ‘fate.’”

You tuned the two out. You had heard variations of this conversation too many times over the years.

Once the three of you reached the main hall, the darling couple decided to go get some refreshments while waiting for the rain to subside. You decided to sit on one of the comfy stuffed couches under the stairs and resume your studying.

The words on the pages flowed into your brain. Remus...Sybilla...harmosts... what would it be like to live in that era? Or at least, to walk the places where these words were once part of everyday life? To touch the artifacts—the once-cherished, once-used items—of the people from back then?

You shook your head. Sometimes, your mind would drift to things that weren’t anywhere on the horizon of your life, just like how you would sometimes indulge yourself by reading romance novels and light novels from Inazuma. No, you needed to hone your mind and focus on your reality. You were in no position to move off your pre-determined path. You needed to think about how you were going to teach these concepts to children—

“Good day to you, Miss [Name].”

You nearly jumped at that voice. A very familiar voice. Knowing who you were going to see, you stood up with your head bowed.

“Good day to you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

You lifted your head. The man himself was standing in front of you. You had only ever seen his face in the papers and only met him once (in the dark, no less), but you thought he seemed a bit fatigued. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were sure you would feel the same if you had to preside over such a ridiculous series of trials.

“I do apologize for disturbing you,” Neuvillette immediately said upon seeing your face. Maybe your poker face wasn’t as good as you thought.

“It’s alright, Monsieur. I don’t mind.” You tried your best to sound like you meant it.

“May I sit down?” Neuvillette said after a pause. You nodded, and he proceeded to sit next to you. You moved all the way to the other end of the couch. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you two, considering how this couch was somewhat hidden away from sight, but you couldn’t take any chances. A governess’s job prospects hinged on having a spotless reputation, after all.

“Are you here with someone?” Neuvillette asked.

“Yes, Monsieur. I’m chaperoning my sister, who has been invited on a date here.”

Speaking of your sister, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see how the two lovebirds were faring. They were currently in the process of choosing from a large menu, giggling and nudging each other as they did so. They probably weren’t going to be finished any time soon.

“Date...” Neuvillette mused. “Yes, I’ve heard that it has become quite a trend among young people to have romantic engagements at the Opera. I must admit, I don’t quite approve of having the sanctity of trials be used for such purposes.”

“I agree,” you nodded. “Although since trials are already spectacles, I suppose this isn’t so preposterous.”

“You certainly don’t mince words, Miss [Name].” there was an amused note in his voice. All you could do was shrug and smile. It wasn’t like you could refute him.

Another awkward silence. Maybe you had offended him with your comment? You didn’t really know why he would be offended though, considering that trials in Fontaine were like performances.

“What did you think of the trial, Miss [Name]?”

You had to think about it for a minute. It felt like you were being quizzed on something you hadn’t studied for. “I think they are both idiots, Monsieur. They would save everyone’s time by dueling it out between themselves.”

Neuvillette blinked for a minute, and then a small laugh slipped out his mouth. You took that to mean that he agreed with you.

His lilac eyes moved to the thick textbook in your hand, seeing it closely for the first time. His brow furrowed. “Were you reading that during the trial?”

Under his puzzled gaze, you felt like you had done something wrong. “Um, yes. Not out of disrespect for the proceedings, I assure you, Monsieur. But I have an important exam for my governess license coming up, so I need to grab any chance I have to study for it.”

“Studying in such a chaotic environment... you’re very dedicated to your goal. I can think of a few people who might be able to learn from you.”

You didn’t hear any sarcasm in his voice. He sounded genuinely impressed. You felt your shoulders relax. It had become an unfortunate tendency of yours to become defensive when you talked about these things. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“What are you studying?” He leaned closer to you. How long is he going to stay here?

“History, Monsieur. I was reading about the older periods of Fontainian history like the Remurian Dynasty,” you opened your book and flipped to the chapter.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at all the underlined passages and marginal notes on the pages. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that the subject of Remuria would make up such a large portion of the exam that it would warrant all these notes. Is it a personal interest of yours?”

The idea that Neuvillette knew what was on the exam was surprising. You didn’t think it was something he would have much knowledge of, but since he was the head of the Maison Gestion, which administered the governess exams, maybe it wasn’t so surprising?

“...I suppose it is,” you said at last.

"What do you like about it?”

That question caught you off guard. "I just...do,” you said at last. “The story of that civilization is very fascinating to me, so I couldn’t help but read more about it.”

No one had ever asked you about this, so you didn’t know how to answer it.

Neuvillette looked down at your notes again. Was he reading them? You had the urge to close your book. Somehow, it felt like a violation of privacy, like he was reading your diary.

You were saved by the footsteps running up to you. “Sister! Sorry we took so long! We got the—oh Archons, is that Monsieur Neuvillette!?”

Your sister and the young master were both holding boxes of Conch Madeleines in their hands, staring at the Chief Justice with identical expressions of shock. You might have laughed if the atmosphere ’t so serious.

Neuvillette stood up. “Good day to you both,” he nodded towards them, then to you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

The three of you watched as he left. Once he was out of earshot, your sister turned to you excitedly. “Sister! You know the Chief Justice?”

“I don’t,” you said, which was a half-truth. You really didn’t know him. “He just came up to me and started chatting.”

“Really?” she lifted an eyebrow. “The Chief Justice, who is so notoriously private that he rarely even does interviews, just randomly struck up a conversation with a stranger?”

“Look, I wish I could give you a good reason, but I can’t.”

Your sister continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes. You were usually pretty good at lying to people thanks to your excellent poker face, but your sister was one of the few people who could see right through you.

“Hey, it stopped raining!” Luckily, you were saved by the viscount’s son’s shout. “That was quicker than I expected.”

With snacks in hand, the three of you left the opera house and headed towards the aquabus station.

The exam day came, and in your honest opinion, you performed excellently. The questions were so easy that you could answer them in your sleep. The results would be finalized next week, and you knew for certain that you had qualified with flying colors. You handed the exam to the invigilator and left the Palais Mermonia with a spring in your step.

Now that you had the rest of the day free, whatever shall you do? Well, since the weather was so nice out, you thought you’d go to the Café Lucerne and get some Conch Madeleines as a celebratory snack. You had brought along your treasured copy of The History of the Decline and Fall of Remuria Volume 1 as well. Just the thought of spending the day eating sweets and reading your favorite book in the warm sunshine brought a smile to your face as you walked towards the elevator.

The thought distracted you so much that you didn’t notice the other occupant in the elevator until they cleared their throat. You spun around. It was as though fate was playing some kind of sick joke on you, since it was Neuvillette—who else could it be—standing in the tiny elevator space with you.

You thought about excusing yourself and leaving the elevator, but it was already descending.

“We do seem to meet quite often, Miss [Name],” he said. “My apologies.”

“Yes, we do indeed, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said, resigning yourself to your fate. Why did he apologize just now?

“Did you have business at the Palais Mermonia today?” he asked.

“Yes. I had to write a history exam for my governess license.”

“Ah, I see. I wish you luck in passing.”

“Thank you, Monsieur,” you smiled and nodded.

An all-too-familiar silence fell. Couldn’t this elevator go any faster? It felt as though this shaft was going on forever.

You racked your brain for something to say but came up empty. You and Neuvillette simply lived in two completely different worlds. In situations like these, it was better to stay silent and pretend to be invisible, in your experience.

“So, Miss [Name], what do you think of the fall of Remuria? Do you believe it was truly predestined?”

“Huh?” That was the last thing you expected to hear.

Neuvillette repeated his question.

“I heard you the first time, Monsieur...I was just confused as to why you asked me that.”

“I simply want to know what a scholar of history like yourself thinks about it. I’ve asked this question to several others, and I’ve always received different answers. It’s very fascinating.”

A scholar of history? You felt embarrassed at how your heart lifted at hearing yourself described as such.

“Well, if you don’t mind listening to the opinions of an untrained layman like me, Monsieur...”

You cleared your throat and began to launch into the theory you had been brewing inside your head for several years. As you talked, the two of you walked out of the elevator and into the main hall, where people gawked at the Chief Justice listening attentively to a plain-looking woman prattling on about Remus and Boethius.

You noticed none of these things, for you had gotten too carried away with the excitement of finally having the opportunity to express your opinion on things that you actually cared about. You also didn’t notice the soft amusement in Neuvillette’s eyes as he observed you.

“...And so, I believe that Remuria might have lasted for much longer if those in power didn’t covet the things that weren’t meant for them, and instead focused their energies on preparing for their inevitable fate,” you concluded as the two of you neared the Café, then smiled up at him triumphantly. It was then that you realized that you had been the only one talking for the past fifteen minutes. “Oh, my apologies, Monsieur. I got carried away. It must have been dreadfully boring to hear me talk on and on.”

“Not at all. I was the one who asked, and it’s fascinating to hear such long-ago events from the perspective of a modern young lady. Have you ever considered becoming a historian or an archaeologist?”

Your good mood immediately faded upon hearing that. “No, Monsieur,” you said, sounding curter than you meant to. “I have not. Being a governess is my sole goal in life.”

Neuvillette seemed to sense your shift in mood, and the corners of his eyes lowered in regret. “My apologies. I have overstepped my bounds. But still, I do believe that the academic world is missing a brilliant mind like yours.”

You knew he was just being kind, but you still couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. And guilty. Your personal issues weren’t his problem. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“I must admit, I had a very different impression of you from when we first met.”

“You did?” What he said baffled you. You always considered yourself to be a straightforward, “what you see is what you get” kind of person.

“Yes. I assumed you to be much more somber and cynical, but you’re nothing of that sort. You’re much livelier and passionate than you seem.”

“No, I’d say you were right the first time, Monsieur,” you said, amused. Lively and passionate were not words you had ever heard yourself associated with. “I think everyone acts different when they’re talking about the things they like, because they’re really talking about themselves. For instance, my sister loves to tease most of the time, but she gets deathly serious when it comes to shoes. I’m sure even you have moments like that, Monsieur.”

“No, I’m afraid not. My emotions are not so mutable or varied as yours.”

“Hmm…” you stared at him. It was true that his face wasn’t very expressive, but many people had said the same thing of you and assumed that you were unfeeling, which you knew wasn’t true. Perhaps it was the same for him.

The scent of coffee caught your attention as you realized that you were standing in front of the Café. “Ah, this is where I was heading, Monsieur. Would you like to, ah, join me?” you said awkwardly.

“I would be delighted to, but I am in fact invited to the opera house for a special performance, so unfortunately, I must decline.”

“A performance, huh. That sounds wonderful. Well, I mustn’t keep you then. Goodbye, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“Goodbye, Miss [Name]. Have a lovely day.”

You watched him as he left. You had been looking forward to your reading time, but now you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.

“Congratulations, Miss [Name], you are successfully qualified as a Court of Fontaine-licensed governess.”

The Gestionnaire’s monotone voice did little to dampen your excitement! You did it! After all your hard work and perseverance, you had finally obtained what you longed for.

“Now, you will be placed on the waiting list.”

You felt your smile drop off your face. “Waiting list?”

“There is a large volume of applicants whose applications are waiting to be processed before yours. Not to mention, there is currently a surplus of governesses in Fontaine. You need to wait for the older ones to retire before taking their spots,” the Gestionnaire dropped their voice to a whisper. “I would advise you to reconsider your career aspirations. If you want, you can also be placed on the waiting list for schoolteacher licenses.”

You frowned. School teachers were a somewhat less respectable profession for noble ladies than governess. It wasn’t as bad as laborer or factory worker, but it was still cause for other nobles to gossip about your family behind their backs.

For poor, low-ranking nobles, a spotless reputation was as valuable as gold. Any perceived blemish could attach undesirable labels that would take generations to erase. You thought of your beautiful, angelic sister, smiling so happily with that viscount’s son. That fragile relationship could be so easily snuffed out by a single bad rumor.

There were other jobs open to you, such as lady’s companion. However, you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t last very long in a role like that.

But on the other hand, you were desperate. You needed to fulfill your role for the sake of your family’s future and your own.

“Okay, put me on that list too,” you nodded tightly. “How long is it?”

“For both lists, it would take at least a year before we reach your application.”

“A year!?” you said. You hadn’t intended to sound angry, but the Gestionnaire recoiled. You forced yourself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn’t help your case.

A year was far too long. You lived in a boarding house in the centre of the city, and your savings were running out quickly. You didn’t even know if you would be able to pay next month’s rent. As a governess, you were supposed to receive a stipend for the first few months after obtaining your license as you searched for work, but those hopes were now dashed.

You thanked the Gestionnaire and left the Palais Mermonia with heavy steps, eventually ending up at the Café Lucerne. You considered going to a tavern to drown your sorrows in drink but decided against it. You were angry and frustrated, yes, but not to the point of doing something so foolish.

So, instead of a nice bottle of alcohol, you ordered five bottles of Fonta. Maybe you could drown your sorrows with their refreshing taste instead.

You slumped in your chair as you guzzled down the first bottle. You didn’t get it. You had worked so hard to fulfill the role granted to you by fate, and yet an obstacle was inexplicably placed on your path. It was such an inoffensive, unassuming role, so why...?

And what were you going to do from now on?

You could go home. Your family lived in a small town that was some distance away from the Court of Fontaine. But you would rather not. You had moved out in the first place to alleviate the financial burden on your family, and if you did move back, you would have to endure your mother’s tireless attempts to find you a husband.

You tilted your head back and stared up at the sky. It was a clear blue, not a single cloud in sight. It felt like it was mocking you.

Just then, a pale face framed with long silver hair blocked your sight. Lilac eyes looked down into your own.

Of course he would be the one to witness your current state. You wouldn’t be surprised if you went home and found him in your sitting room at this point.

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you stood up and curtseyed half-heartedly. “As you can see, I’m no state to keep you company today. Please feel free to converse with someone else."

Neuvillette did not leave, but instead surveyed your surroundings. His brow furrowed at the bottles of Fonta.

He sat down across from you.

“My apologies for being so presumptuous, but I simply cannot stand by and watch you in such a state. Please, tell me what is distressing you.”

You stared at him. He was leaning forward, his eyes brimming with concern. Even though you barely knew him and was still considering just excusing yourself and leaving...

You sat back down and told him what just happened and your current circumstances. As you did so, you felt hot tears building up at the back of your eyes. You squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop them from coming out. You prided yourself on never crying, on taking what life threw at you without complaint. But there was also another reason, something you were surprised to admit even to yourself.

You didn’t want Neuvillette to see you cry.

It was a pathetic wish, but you wanted to show your best side to him. You wanted him to keep being impressed by you.

You didn’t know if Neuvillette picked up on your feelings. You hoped not. If he tried to comfort you, you would really lose control.

It felt colder than it did a few seconds ago. The area darkened; the shadows of clouds casted onto the ground. You could hear the people around you discussing if it was going to rain. Perfect. You would welcome rain at this point.

Neuvillette didn’t say anything for a while after you finished talking. You wondered if he understood what you told him. Surely the Iudex, the highest authority figure in the land next to the Hydro Archon, would find the concept of financial issues foreign?

You decided to grab another bottle of Fonta. But just as you reached for it, Neuvillette’s hand blocked yours and gently placed it down on the table.

Unaware of your reeling, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I can see that you’re in an extremely difficult situation, Miss [Name]. It troubles me greatly.”

You simply nodded. What else was there to say.

“I would like to propose an... unorthodox solution to your problems. One that would be beneficial for both of us.”

You looked up at him at that. You had expected him to tell you to go back home and tell your parents what happened and obey their wishes. But Neuvillette himself was offering a solution? What could it be?

Every nerve in your body was telling you that this could lead to nothing good. You usually trusted your instincts, as they were always right, but currently you were desperate enough to listen to anything.

“What do you propose, Monsieur?”

“Marry me.”

Previous | Next

[hee-blee-art]

I couldn't wait any longer to share my (work-in-progress) audio fiction project, Field Evaluation!

Field Evaluation is the story of Joseph Viscount, a field evaluator with the Fortuna North Research Facility who investigates claims of anomalous phenomena. Specialising in a particular anomaly called The Liminal, Joseph seeks out abandoned, uncanny, and inexplicable places to determine if there is anything to the superstitions that surround them.

You can learn more about Field Evaluation on my projects page linked below and stay tuned here and on @cleaverdream for updates and more!

[CW: Heavy unreality, paranoia, horror & unsettling themes]

[suitsusboth]

Loved the new chapter! Could we maybe get a snippet of Anthony pov when he saw Edwina was back? From Kate's perspective it looked like he didn't care about her comments or her opinion, but I'm sure he was seething

Ohhh, I love that you've asked this!

I think we all know, Anthony can throw on that Viscount™️ mask when needed. Which he knew he had to here, where emotions were already running so high.

Lady Danbury's butler had opened the door with a grim expression. So grim, in fact, Anthony was worried for a moment something terrible had happened. But when the man did not say anything, and simply led the way to the sitting room as he had done every morning these last nine days, Anthony thought little of it. Perhaps it was a personal matter or something with another servant. Either way, he cared not. He had only one thing on his mind— Kate.

Kate, whom had looked so beautiful yesterday in the garden, who had been brave enough to show him the vulnerable parts of herself and her worries and doubts with him. As much as it had pained him that she worried she was not good enough, there was a certain satisfaction that she trust him enough to tell him that. He could tell it took a lot for her to do that, and he would not take that for granted.

Then she had turned around, and this confident vixen had taken her place, and absolutely floored him. He should have known Kate wouldn't have been the meek maiden most unmarried girls were. It had taken everything in him not to fall to his knees and tell her she can have him any way she wanted. He should be glad he had such restraint as his eleven year old sister would have far too much if he hadn't.

This whole not-being-married-yet thing was becoming very inconvenient. Luckily for him though, one day from now they would be.

One more day.

It felt almost unreal. What man gets everything he wants?

He ached for her. Not just in a carnal way, but for her mere presence. Just to be near her, to see her, to smell her, to hear her voice—

The butler opened the door to the sitting room, announcing his arrival, and Anthony barely stopped himself from bowling right past the man, far too eager to see Kate.

Like he was a compass and she was true north, Anthony's eyes instantly found Kate, who was sitting on the settee in her lovely lilac day dress. He couldn't wait to tell her just how lovely she looked, when she looked at him, and Anthony instantly came to a halt.

Something was wrong.

He looked around the room, Lady Danbury and Lady Mary also sat in the room with tense expressions, and then he noticed two others seated across from Kate. A nervous looking, scruffy man and none other than Edwina Sharma herself, who was looking at Anthony with adject horror.

"Miss Edwina,” he said at evenly and politely as possible, “Nice of you to return. You had us worried.”

You had your mother and sister beside themselves with worry. Kate had a panic attack and I do not think either of them had slept properly since.

While his blood simmered with anger, he knew it wasn't his feelings on the matter that were important. No, right now, all he cared about was Kate. He looked for her again, her expression strained as he silently asked if she was all right. She seemed to understand by how she gave him a quick nod. She looked all right, but he knew better. Those eyes told him everything she needed to know.

He itched to go sit next to her, and hold her hand.

Edwina must have realized why he was here, and began protesting in earnest that this couldn't be true.

Anthony had expected some discontent from Edwina once she found out about the engagement. He had half-hoped this would all happen after the actual wedding, but apparently not.

Edwina stood (as well as the gangly gentleman next to her, the man Anthony presumed Edwina had run off with) and got in between him and Kate as if to keep them forcibly apart. Like he was some danger to her.

His hand curled into a fist.

“Didi, please,” Edwina pleaded, “Tell me you are joking. ”

Kate sighed, looking entirely uncomfortable as she gently pried her sister's fingers from her arm. “Bon…”

“You cannot marry a man like him. Not after everything he has done!”

He understood the jab, and in way it was deserved. But he and Kate had come to a peace, a peace he would not let Edwina unravel.

Edwina flashed Anthony a glare, and her gentleman (husband, he corrected mentally once he spied the wedding ring on Edwina's finger.) moved in between them, twitching nervously, as he was not quite sure what to do.

“I do not know what to tell you, Edwina,” Kate said, moving away from her and closer to Anthony. He resisted the urge to reach out and pull her tightly against him.

“Him, Kate?” Edwina's eyes flashed with anguish. “Anyone else would be fine. But him?”

Mary stood, coming in between the two pairs. “Edwina, please—”

Edwina’s expression turned worried then, like she had had a thought. “Is it blackmail? Is he forcing—?”

That was enough.

“Come now,” Anthony said, trying to make light of the situation instead saying something biting and nasty. Instead he let his fingernails bite into his palm. Losing his temper would not help anyone in this moment, and Kate's expression was growing more upset. Those big, brown eyes were going to kill him. “You’re starting to hurt my feelings.”

“What feelings?” Edwina hissed back, “I wasn’t aware you were capable of them!”

That stung, but he didn't let her see that. It was to be expected though. He was the viscount. Cold, exacting, always in control of the situation. It's what he would have everyone believe. He's sure his family feel the same as Edwina did. It was perhaps they never held back with their jabs.

It was fine. He would rather take them than let them see how they affected him.

“Edwina, that is enough!”

Anthony's eyes widened in surprise momentarily at the outburst from Kate. Her eyes her alight with, and her expression unyielding as she looked at her sister as if to dare to say another word.

He heart clenched a little bit, relishing the feeling for once someone was on his side.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Lady Whistledown Returns: Chapter 9

Penelope’s desperate plan does work, but there will be unforeseen consequences for her.

Need to catch up? Find previous chapters and works on AO3.

This chapter has no content warnings.

Sometime in the midst of Colin Bridgerton’s screams, Charlotte became aware of a pounding on the door. She waved a hand vaguely behind her at the agent minding the door, and he opened it. As Bridgerton slipped into unconsciousness—unnervingly pale, given the heat of the room and the amount of screaming he had done, and with grotesquely swollen hands and arms—Brimsley and Worth were suddenly in her line of vision, both pale and panicky.

“Your Majesty, Prince George and his hunting party—”

“And Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton—”

“They are coming, they will be here in moments—”

“It would be best if you were not here when they arrive—”

Both men had their hands out, and Charlotte had the distinct impression that were she not queen, they would have physically dragged her from the room in their haste. Comforting that at least some of my people remember the consequences of crossing me, she thought.

“We shall not run and hide,” she said. “The publication of Whistledown means that we cannot escape notice, so we shall not. We shall face this. Calm yourselves, you are meant to be professionals!” She could hear male voices and rapid footsteps in the hallway; she would face this storm, just as she had all the others since she came to England.

Stepping out the door, she faced her oldest son. He was accompanied by a number of young gentlemen—primarily eldest sons she was unconcerned about—the Duke of Hastings, Viscount Bridgerton, and a frightened-looking Violet Bridgerton. If she could talk the group into walking away, she could mitigate the situation.

“Georgie,” she said. “This is not a good time. Why don’t you take your companions to the day room for tea, and I will join you there shortly?”

“Mother, I’ve heard the strangest thing from Bridgerton and Hastings here, and then I read it in Whistledown! I promised them we would look into it. Surely it cannot be true that you are holding Bridgerton’s brother?”

“Does that sound like something I would do, Georgie?” Her tone was entirely light and even respectful, but the iron in her eyes belied it.

He was wavering, she could see it. Georgie was a good boy, and it was overwhelming to him to choose whether it was more likely that his mother was lying or that members of his hunting party—traditionally the young men he liked best and trusted most, since they were permitted near his person with loaded guns—were lying. She leaned toward him infinitesimally. She could win this. Her will was and likely would always be stronger than that of her darling boy. Perhaps that was another reason she needed to maintain her authority in court. George needed her protection, but perhaps Georgie would too, as Prince Regent—

The door flew open behind her, and Beerbohm-Tree’s slight frame wasn’t enough to hide the sight of Colin Bridgerton slumped unconscious against the straps holding him to the chair. The bruises from the beating Colin had taken had not had time to darken into the purple splotches they would become across his ribs and face, but they were already visible across the room, as was the swelling of his arms. He was too pale for the waves of heat emanating from the room, and the ivory needles in his arms caught the firelight, drawing attention to them. What was not visible from that distance was the motion of his chest that would tell them whether he breathed.

“Mother!” The scandalized tone in George’s voice seemed to shatter the silence, causing the unreal image to crash catastrophically with reality.

With a wordless cry that tugged even at Charlotte’s well-guarded heart, Violet Bridgerton shouldered past the Prince Regent and Charlotte—sending the tall but slight Beerbohm-Tree careening into a wall as she shoved past him—and ran to her son.

“Colin? Colin can you hear me?” Ripping off a glove, Violet placed a hand beneath his nose, feeling for breath, and placed her ear to his chest, listening for a heartbeat. When the bruiser made to move Violet away from Colin, Simon landed a neat right hook on his jaw, dropping the man unconscious to the floor and then moving to undo the straps on the chair.

Anthony reached for the ivory needles, but his hands flexed and he appeared to think better of it, joining Simon in undoing the straps.

“Colin, dearest, come back to us,” begged Violet, tears streaming down her face as she cradled her son’s face cradled gently between her hands. “You cannot slip silently away, please, dearest. Not like Edmund, please.”

Anthony froze at his mother’s words, breathing hard, eyes distant. Simon clasped his shoulder, saying “Anthony, we must get him out of here.” When Anthony’s self returned to fill his eyes and he nodded, Simon turned to the group of gentlemen who were crowding the doorway, watching them.

“Your Highness,” he said, “if you please, we shall need messengers sent to every member of the Bridgerton and Hastings families; they are to gather at Bridgerton House. We need a doctor there too.”

“Not Penelope,” Anthony ground out.

“Every member of the Bridgerton families except Mrs. Colin Bridgerton,” Simon corrected himself smoothly. “Fife, Smythe-Smith, help us with Mr. Bridgerton, and mind his arms or I will break yours. Lumley, be a gentleman and give Lady Bridgerton your arm.”

Charlotte stood still as the hallway and gentlemen exploded into action around her like a disturbed bee’s nest. Georgie was speaking to his secretary and arranging matters as Hastings had specified, and to top it off arranged carriages for the entire Bridgerton extended family to return to Bridgerton House. All the young gentlemen in the hunting party, not just the two Hastings had co-opted, helped lift and support Colin. When they jostled him, Colin cried out, still unconscious, and Lady Bridgerton threw an elbow at Lumley to get him clear of her and support her son’s head. Lumley hovered at her side for long moments until she snapped at him to make himself useful.

Were she in a generous mood, Charlotte would have given Worth full marks. He didn’t move a millimeter to help the gentlemen transport Colin, and if she hadn’t known the man since he was a boy, she wouldn’t have seen the desperation in his eyes to help. Unfortunate that Worth had apparently made friends with the third Bridgerton boy while bringing him back to England; he couldn’t be trusted with Whistledown assignments anymore.

All too soon, Charlotte was alone in the hallway but for her agents, Brimsley, and Beerbohm-Tree, and she did not bother to hide her fury. “How did we come to have so very little warning, gentlemen? How is it that we were caught red-handed by the Viscount and his mother? We ought to have had hours and yet we did not.”

“Ma’am,” Brimsley began in the cautious tone that heralded a statement Charlotte was not going to like. “It may be best to set our eyes to the next steps. Viscount Bridgerton will almost certainly bring a bill before the Lords in response to this—perhaps several, depending on how Mr. Bridgerton recovers. I would suggest we collect your personal solicitors and begin to build what defense we may—”

“What defense, Brimsley? We are well and truly damned. And if the Viscount is as hell-bent on protecting his family as I believe he is, I shall not even have Mr. Bridgerton as leverage against Lady Whistledown. The Lords would grant a bill of divorce in this situation without a second thought, the paternalistic rats that they are.”

“Your Majesty,” Worth said, quietly and evenly. “Perhaps a less antagonistic tactic? A heartfelt apology, perhaps, might convince the Viscount to refrain from going before the House—”

“Apology?” thundered Charlotte, wheeling on her agent. “When Lady Whistledown can return every ounce of power and credibility she has stolen from me, Mr. Worth, and yes, apologized and fallen off the edge of the world, then perhaps I shall apologize to the Viscount. Get out of my sight, Worth, and you two,” she said, glaring at her remaining agents. The men could not be said to have scurried away, but they made haste in their retreat. 

“Madam, we do not have a winning position,” said Brimsley, quietly. 

“Women rarely do, Brimsley. So I suppose it is up to me to find one.” Charlotte swept up the hallway, back toward her personal suite of rooms to plan. 

The afternoon sun was high and Penelope had succumbed to sleep in a wingback armchair that had once been overstuffed, but love and use had battled it into delightful, soft comfort as Benedict and Lady Danbury took turns oh-so-casually taking turns about the room to check for any sign of a messenger or coach from either Anthony or the palace with news. 

“Surely we ought to have heard something by now?” Benedict asked as Lady Danbury resettled herself on a small sofa and picked up her tea cup. 

“Yes, we ought to have,” she said, worry creeping across her face. “I would have expected Her Majesty to have done whatever she planned to and then returned Mr. Bridgerton to Penelope to make a point. She has had agents on Penelope, so he ought to have been delivered here.”

“And what does it mean for Colin that he hasn’t been delivered here?” Benedict did not want to ask the question, did not want an answer, but he had helped his sister-in-law publish in defiance of the crown and could not help but ask. 

“It does not do to speculate,” said Lady Danbury, tone kind. The kindness in her usually sharp tones was not an answer, but it was information, and Benedict’s heart sank. Lady Danbury continued, “It also will not do to leave Penelope unattended; she has engaged in open rebellion, and while her connection to the Bridgerton family offers a modicum of protection, if she simply disappeared, we might never see her again. I am sure her Mr. Bridgerton would not sit still for that, and we cannot allow this feud to grow further; it is already far too dangerous.”

Any answer Benedict would have given was lost in enthusiastic pounding on the door. Penelope startled awake, and Benedict and Lady Danbury were on their feet. A moment later, the butler introduced a liveried royal messenger. 

“Mr. Bridgerton, I have been sent by His Royal Highness, the Prince Regent, on behalf of the Viscount Bridgerton. All members of the Bridgerton family are requested and required to make haste to Bridgerton House. Mr. Colin Bridgerton is in gravely ill health.”

“We shall proceed at once,” said Benedict, reaching for a too-pale Penelope’s arm. “My wife and our son are at My Cottage, please see them collected and brought to Bridgerton House. Lady Danbury, if you would care to accompany Mrs. Bridgerton and myself—”

“I beg your pardon,” interrupted the messenger. “My message is incomplete. Mrs. Colin Bridgerton is explicitly excluded from the invitation. She will not be admitted.” 

“She is Mr. Bridgerton’s wife; he will want to see her,” snarled Benedict. Penelope shrank away from how much like an angry Anthony he sounded. 

“Was there any message from the queen to Mrs. Bridgerton?” inquired Lady Danbury. The messenger shook his head, bowed, and retreated. “I shall accompany you, Mr. Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury announced. 

“We shall go at once, then,” said Benedict. Penelope, however, did not move, even when Benedict gently tugged on her arm. “He will want to see you,” Benedict said. 

Penelope was at a loss for words. He will blame me, she wanted to say. This is all my fault. He won’t want to see me. I’m afraid of what the queen has done to him. And yet none of that was louder than the scream in her heart to go to Colin, to make sure he was all right, to tell him she was sorry and that she loved him more than life. 

She had been so adamant about getting him away from the queen that she had not thought through the fact that she would have to face this part. Face whatever “in gravely ill health” meant after Colin had been in the hands of the professionals of pain that everyone knew the queen employed but did not speak openly of. She had made a choice, and she had made it without Colin’s input, knowing he would have to bear the consequences. She owed it to him to go, to at least try. She would beg Anthony to let her see him, if she had to. 

“Penelope.” Benedict’s voice was half order, half desperate plea. She could not keep Benedict from his brother’s side now. Nodding—she still lacked anything so coherent as words—Penelope let Benedict and Lady Danbury hustle her out the door and into Lady Danbury’s carriage after Lady Danbury insisted that it would be faster than waiting for Benedict’s to be prepared. Benedict was in no mood to waste time; he failed to even argue with her. 

The carriage ride was short; at a dead run Benedict could have beaten the carriage to Bridgerton house by a minute or two. The doors to the house stood broadly open, with hackneys and carriages and horses haphazardly strewn about the drive. Maids and footmen and doctor’s apprentices hurried in and out of the house with messages, bundles, and parcels. In the foyer was a gaggle of servants, Anthony’s solicitor’s assistants, and a gaggle of young men from distinguished ton families. There wasn’t a member of the Bridgerton family in sight. 

“That’s every man from his highness’s hunting party,” said Lady Danbury. “They must have come back as soon as they heard.” 

Before the carriage had fully stopped, Benedict had thrown open the doors and leaped down, barely turning around to offer his hand to the ladies. “Go, I have footmen,” Lady Danbury ordered Penelope. 

The instant her feet hit the ground, Benedict was pulling her into a run up the drive and the stairs to Bridgerton House. They were in the foyer and nearly at the stairs up to the family bedrooms when Anthony’s butler—face pale behind a professional expression—stopped them. “Mr. Bridgerton, you may of course go up, but forgive me, Lord Bridgerton has left explicit instructions that Mrs. Bridgerton is not to so much as enter the house.”

“She is his wife—”

“I’m very sorry sir.”

“Get him down here.”

“I am instructed to bring you to him, not the other way around.” The footman’s face went even paler as he resisted. Benedict’s face went red, and Penelope could hear his teeth grind. She also became painfully aware that the hubbub of voices had ceased as people noticed her. The servants’ faces ran the gamut between frightened and professionally closed, while the faces of the young gentlemen were, to a man, furious. They grew more furious the longer they were fixed on her. 

“Anthony!” Benedict bellowed into the silence, startling Penelope so badly that she jumped. Running footsteps could be heard in the upper gallery, and Eloise’s face peered over the railing. 

“Get up here,” she ordered. “They are saying we might lose him, Mama is barely human and I—” her face crumpled and Benedict shoved past the butler, still holding Penelope’s hand. 

“Not her.” Eloise’s voice cracked out. Benedict’s hand slid from Penelope’s without his breaking stride. An instant later he was at the top of the stairs, sweeping Eloise under one arm, and then the pair disappeared. 

Penelope was left alone on the staircase, Eloise’s words ringing in her ears. “They are saying we might lose him.” Her chest felt funny, as though it had been ripped in two. One half was raging, screaming, insisting with the force of Lear’s hurricanos that she get to Colin. The other half seemed to have wrapped her heart in a blanket, muffling sensation, sound, and feeling—refusing to let that sentence or its implications reach her. 

Calmly, deliberately, Penelope began climbing the stairs. A hand wrapped cruelly tight around her upper arm and nearly jerked her off her feet. Catching herself on the banister, Penelope turned and found herself surrounded by gentlemen from the Prince Regent’s hunting party. The man who still gripped her arm was Lord Twombley, fury etched into every line of his snarling face. 

“We saw what you did to him, ginger bitch,” he said, voice low. “Don’t for an instant think we won’t punish you for it in his place. It seems to some of us that you’re far too high in the instep for your own good. Let’s see you wield that poison pen with a handful of broken fingers!”

“Shift yourself,” ordered Lady Danbury. Her voice was accompanied by the distinctive rap of her walking stick across shins. Twombley barely bit back a yelp, but he released Penelope’s arm and stepped back, giving Lady Danbury enough of an opening to take Penelope’s hand and drag her out of the knot of young, furious men.   

Once she was clear, Penelope tried to turn again, to get to the second floor and Colin. Lady Danbury refused to let go of her, instead pulling Penelope tight against her and walking them both out the front door of Bridgerton House. When Penelope opened her mouth to protest, Lady Danbury hushed her sharply and held her even more tightly. As they approached Lady Danbury’s carriage, Penelope began to struggle, but the older woman’s grip was surprisingly strong. 

“It’s not safe for you in there, stop struggling.” Lady Danbury pushed Penelope into the carriage, which almost immediately took off for Danbury House. “You think those men won’t follow through on their threats if the Viscount himself does not check them? I was talking to the servants and apparently those gentlemen pulled your Mr. Bridgerton out of the bowels of the palace and did not like what they saw.”

“I don’t care. Eloise said they might lose Colin, and I can’t lose him, Agatha! Turn the carriage around!”

“Penelope, Colin will live or die regardless of whether you are at his side.” Lady Danbury met Pen’s furious glare with a level, compassionate gaze. “And he is not alone. But if you go back there, you will either be assaulted or arrested or both, and that is not what Colin would want. You cannot go back, Penelope, so we must go forward. We must plan; this does not end here. They have decided to hate you because you are a safer target than Her Majesty.”

“Do they not see that she would have found an excuse? She would have done this anyway!”

“Penelope, I know you are hurting but you must think.”

“No, I must go back, I must see Colin!” Penelope was losing the battle for coherency and she knew it. The corner she had been backed into was closing in around her. Stars danced before her eyes and it took a long moment to realize that she wasn’t breathing. Her muscles ached from how tightly she was holding them. She couldn’t relax, couldn’t release tears, a scream, anything to stop drowning in the feeling that she was about to live in a world without Colin in it. Her brain had stopped working—all that mattered, all she could think of, was Colin. The rest of the world faded away.

“Dame Penelope?”

That voice broke through her emotional turmoil. She knew that voice. She recognized the hand extended to her, to help her down from the carriage. Not her preferred target, but certainly the most immediately available one.

She slapped the hand away.

“You have some bloody nerve facing me now,” she snarled at Worth, leaping down from the carriage hard enough to jar her ankles. “You do not get to speak to me, you do not get to be in my sight. You’re a queen’s agent, be invisible if you must watch me.” Worth grunted as his back hit the side of Lady Danbury’s house. Penelope had backed the man clear across the drive and the lawn, with one furious, accusatory finger in his face.

“I have been removed from all cases pertaining to you or the Bridgertons,” he said. “Her Majesty feels I have become too friendly with your Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Too friendly?” Penelope slapped the man. “Too friendly?” She slapped him again.

Worth looked pleadingly at Lady Danbury, who was standing just to one side, eyeing the proceedings with interest, both hands resting atop her walking stick. She raised an eyebrow at him but otherwise moved not an inch.

“You kidnapped him! You handed him to a petty autocrat who is terrified because she can feel power slipping through her fingers and is desperate to stop it! You tried to help her silence me!” Penelope’s hand flew again, but Worth gently deflected the blow so it did not land, careful not to grab her as he did so.

“I cannot change my assignments, and I cannot change my duty to the queen. All I—and you—can do is move forward.”

Penelope’s face went white then red then white again, and she turned sharply on her heel and stalked back down the drive.

“We ought to stop her, she cannot go back to Bridgerton House,” Worth said quietly to Lady Danbury.

“She isn’t,” Lady Danbury replied. “But I certainly hope you have more to say to her than ‘move on,’ or else you will have no one to blame but yourself when she slaps you again.” Worth looked uncomfortable but did not reply. Lady Danbury snorted. “I see. Well then, what can you tell me about this entire spectacle?”

“Little, I’m afraid. We are both well aware that this is a poor situation for all involved.”

“Indeed. The ball is in the Viscount’s court, I believe. If I know Her Majesty, she is banking on Lord Bridgerton directing his fury at Mrs. Bridgerton, not the crown. Oh dear.”

Penelope had reached the closed gates to the Danbury House drive as Danbury and Worth spoke, and had stood, holding the bars for long moments. The gates were closed, but not locked. She could have simply shoved forward, opened the gates, and run across Mayfair back to Colin—angry men of the ton and Bridgerton family be damned.

She just could not decide whether it would be worse to return and find Colin dead or to find him alive and angry with her for her decision. She was tired, her feet and legs ached fiercely, and her heart hurt. It was too much, all too much. She couldn’t move, couldn’t even let go of the bars. She slumped against them, the world whirling around her.

Worth got to Penelope before Lady Danbury, and gently—although fully expecting to be hit again—eased the woman’s white-knuckle grip off the bars and more or less carried her back to the house and up the stairs, depositing her in the guest bedroom Lady Danbury directed him to.

Blessedly, Penelope did not dream.  

[eight-legged-pest]

The world was made unreal again, scratched out into space like the rough sketch of an artist's pencil. Each movement left echoes behind it, ghostly traces in this strangely silent place.

Something caught her eye as she turned her head, sluggish as she fought against time and space itself. It was a shape she struggled to define, human-like, but with a full-fledged bird's wings and tail.

There was no light or darkness in this place, not truly, but power could shine, and divine power most strongly. This creature - this being - its flight feathers had flashes of divine power, its eyes too. Although it wasn't a god, it was close to one, though not a messenger or servant.

She wondered, in a faint and hazy way, why the power seemed so familiar to her, because by all rights it shouldn't. If divine power had an energy, this was cool blues and cyans. Her god, she recalled; had been a god of yellows and greens.

Lissi was startled back to the mortal world by someone rapping on her desk. She rubbed the top of her scaled snout with embarrassment, wondering if she'd been caught dreaming. The sergeant stood in front of her didn't seem to have noticed, but there was something familiar about him, too...

"Lieutenant, new orders from the viscount." he said.

She groaned as she pulled herself to her feet and hooked her tail around her chair to pull it under the desk.

"Best see what sort of idiocy he's come up with this time." she complained.

The sergeant smiled wryly. Just for a moment, as she left the tent and let the flap fall closed, his eyes shone pure cyan-blue from within. Then he followed after the lieutenant with the orders in hand, back out to the shores of the Valatier sea where the day was bright and clear, and many of the soldiers in the Kingfisher's Regiment were training.

[sweetesthaaze]

Guess who just got the physical copy of TVWLM and is gonna re-read it AGAIN?

[ahrorha]

Flame of Winter

This is the final chapter, and it feels unreal to have come so far. The story is far longer than I ever could imagine. And I want to thank everyone who joined me on this journey.

Your kind words were a joy to have received. Thank you so much for everything.

I love you guys <3

Chapter 35

.

.

Upstairs in the Hanged Man in Kirkwall, Varric sat in his armchair. His room in the most famous tavern of Kirkwall had become his second office since he became the Viscount. Here he could hide for a while from the complaining nobles and stuffy politicians he was surrounded by in Hightown. He could clear his head here and listen to the common people living in Kirkwall, who faced, in his opinion, the real problems in life. Not that he could escape his 'assistant' (pain in the but) Senechal Bran here. Bran had just delivered another stack of letters that required his 'immediate' attention. Varric sighed. He would become bald, grey and worn out like the previous Viscount if he wasn't careful.

“I see you are still insisting on staying in this lovely part of town.”

Startled, Varric looked up and saw Dorian walking into his room, looking critical at his choice of furniture.

“Sparkler! You've already arrived. Take a seat.”

“Yes. My voyage was very boring and uneventful. No burly Qunari pirates visited to make it less tedious.”

Varric stood up to send for refreshments, and soon afterwards, he took a deep drink from a mug of ale while

Dorian was sniffing his wine before taking a careful sip. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at the excellent taste.

Varric laughed. “I got you something good. My knowledge of wine has improved after spending time with you and Broody.”

They both were silent for a while.

Swirling his mug of ale, Varric asked. “Have you gotten one too?”

“Yes. Though mine was a little different.” Dorian answered.

“How so? Didn't you get a letter? Mine just showed on my nightstand when I woke up.”

Dorian gave him a surprised look. “A little unnerving. Do you know who brought it?”

Varric shook his head. “No, and to be honest. After Hawke, the Inquisition and my trip through eluvian capital, there is little that still can surprise me.”

“Well, this might just do. I have talked to our little Snowflake.”

“What?!”

“I didn't get a letter. I got a sending crystal.”

“What is that?”

“A small magical marvel. It is a magical gemstone that can be used for communication. They come in pairs, and you can talk with the person that has the other one. With the crystal came a small note with a date and time.”

“She has the other one?”

“Yes, though she hasn't answered any of my calls to this date, but I talked to her just before I left Minrathous. She is doing well, though she feels guilty about how she left. We talked a long time about me and how I was after Iron Bull's betrayal. I have to confess I wasn't entirely sober after that.”

“So, it is true she is back with Chuckles?”

“Yes, they are back together, and she seems happy.”

Varric sighed. “Well, at least one good thing has come out of this mess.”

“She also told me that things are far more complicated than she ever thought, and she was unsure what the future would bring.”

“You don't say. I know a lot of people don't believe what Chuckles is claiming and are more worried about the Qunari. But after what I saw in the Crossroads and seeing so many elves disappear, I know something is going to happen.”

“True, though our dear Inquisitor hasn't told everything that happened.”

Varric looked curiously at him.

Dorian chuckled. “Do you know what the first thing she did was, when she saw Solas?”

“No.”

“She slapped him with all her might.”

Varric sputtered. “She did what?”

“I think it may be not as bad with her at his side.”

“Maybe? I got an extra note with my letter, from the Dread Wolf himself.”

“Really?”

“Yep. He confessed that he had spent the last two years looking over his shoulder, fearing for a shot from my Bianca. He also thanked me for looking out for her.”

They both huffed a laugh and nursed their drinks again.

“Do you blame her?” Varric asked.

“After everything that happened to her and with the Circle looming over her head? No. Though I fear what the future is going to bring.

“If I have learned one thing over the years is that nothing is simple.” Varric lifted his mug. “Let's drink. And I think we will come face to face with her or Solas sooner than we might expect.”

.

Skyhold was once again surrounded by a thick layer of snow. Cullen shivered as the cold wind tugged at his cloak. Winter had the Frostback Mountains full in its grasp. He looked up at the sky where slowly clouds were gathering. There would fall even more snow today. It would delay his departure even further back.

Feeling a little melancholy, he gazed over the walls. It had been almost eight months since the events at the Exalted Council, and soon he and the remaining troops would leave Skyhold for good. The fortress would become a mere outpost now the Inquisition had transferred into the personal honour guard of Divine Victoria.

Currently, the main body and command centre of the Inquisition was stationed in Val Royeaux. Most of the Inquisition's operations had already been transferred; what remained at Skyhold was the clean-up crew.

Cullen looked at how little was left of the once vast field of tents and huts in the valley. So much had already been deconstructed. A caravan of wagons was being loaded to bring the last of the supplies down the mountain. It was strange, they had arrived here with so little, and now they needed weeks to clear out the fortress.

It wasn't really necessary for him to be here, but it felt right to accompany the last of his men personally when they would leave. A final goodbye to another place he had called home.

Three years they had stayed at Skyhold, and somehow it felt like he hadn't achieved anything. True, many things happened here; they had defeated Corypheus and saved Thedas, but if what Ryan had told them about Solas was correct, then Corypheus had only been the beginning. He had a hard time grasping what Solas claimed to be. To

Cullen Fen'Harel was a character from elven folklore. In the past, he had never paid much attention to the Dalish tales about their gods. As an Andrastian, he had always believed that their talks about elven gods were no more than silly fairytales. Even now that he had spent time studying those stories, he wasn't any wiser as to how to prepare for an opponent that claims to have made the very Veil itself. But one thing was for sure, Solas had outsmarted them all, even Leliana.

It had been very sobering to see how many elves had disappeared after Ryan's confrontation with Solas. Over a period of weeks, servants, craftsmen, cooks and cleaners had left. They all disappeared overnight, not leaving any trace behind. And it wasn't only the Inquisition or Orlais that reported the disappearance of elves; it was the same in Fereldan, Nevarra and the Free Marches. Tevinter was keeping quiet, but they gathered enough information to know that they also struggled with people becoming missing. Whole families had left, leaving some alienages almost empty and the servant quarters abandoned. There were even reports of entire Dalish clans that hadn't been seen on their migration paths. It showed just how vastly Solas' network was and how his people had access to every organisation in Thedas.

Maybe the most dangerous thing was that no one could estimate how big Solas' forces really were. It showed just how no one took the elves seriously and how they could have operated without being noticed. Cullen had a hard time convincing others of the dangers those elves could represent. To most, the disappearance was a mere nuisance; they complained because their servants they relied on had left. And for once, they had a hard time finding a replacement.

What they didn't see was the threat those elves could represent. Cullen knew from his own experience how dangerous things could become once Solas would train these elves. The Inquisition itself had started this way; the first soldiers under his command were recruits from Haven, men and women who barely knew how to hold a sword. The same recruits turned out to be brave soldiers that won many battles and helped to defeat Corypheus.

Solas had achieved what hadn't happened in seven hundred years; he was uniting the elves of Thedas. Though Cullen couldn't guess what Solas' plan was. He had said to the Inquisitor that he would destroy the world, but Cullen doubted that Solas would destroy it in such a way that his allies wouldn't survive. But he wondered what Solas' plans meant for the humans. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be peaceful. With how things were now, no human nation would support any claim of the elves for land or power.

He shook his head. No, whatever was going to happen would end in more bloodshed.

His thoughts went to Eirlana. Was she back beside the man she loved? Or had Solas cast her aside just like after the defeat of Corypheus. He felt a pang in his heart thinking of her. He missed her more than he wanted to admit, and although she had rejected him, he hoped that wherever she was, she was happy.

.

Cullen entered his quarters, a familiar headache pulsing in his head. Without Eirlana's healing, his headaches had returned, as well as his cravings for lyrium. He sat down at his desk, feeling drained. With a sigh, he rubbed his tired eyes, knowing there wasn't any escape from his withdrawal. But there was no time to rest; even in an almost abandoned fortress, paperwork was waiting for him. Letting out another sigh, he grabbed a report to be read when his sight fell on a small raven scroll lying in front of him. With a frown, he took it, wondering where the scout had gone to who had delivered this. A message from a raven typically meant they needed a reply immediately. With ease, he broke the seal and unrolled it. A small pressed elfroot leaf fell out of it, and Cullen's heart skipped a beat when he recognised the familiar handwriting.

.

____________________

Cullen

I don't know if you want to hear from me, but I have a request.

Meet me alone at the grove tonight. I will be waiting for you.

Eirlana

.

____________________

.

Cullen sat there stunned, re-reading the short message. Why would she contact him? Grabbing a drink from his secret stash, he stared out of the window, not knowing what he should do.

.

The eluvian sprang to life in the small elven ruin. The eluvian was half-buried in the rubble, and Himel had to bow down to step through it. Immediately he checked the surroundings. Soon he was followed by other elven soldiers that spread out and did the same. The eluvian's surface rippled again a short while later, and Solas and Eirlana stepped through it.

Himel returned to them and kneeled down. “There are no signs of any activity in the vicinity, my Lord.”

Solas fussed at the fur collar of Eirlana's cloak, pulling it tighter around her neck. “Wait here for our return.”

“Yes, my Lord.” answered Himel. “Stay safe.” He then directed his men to their stations and guard this place.

“Are you ready?” Solas asked Eirlana, stroking her cheek with his gloved thumb.

Eirlana nodded. “Just a little nervous.”

“We will be alright.” Solas stepped out of the ruins in the open and transformed himself into a huge black wolf. Crouching down, he waited until Eirlana had climbed on his back. Once she had securely grabbed his fur, he rose and took off. The sun was setting, turning the snowy peaks into orange and pink hues wherever the twilight managed to peak through the heavy snow clouds. When they arrived at the mountain ridge surrounding Skyhold, night had fallen, and Solas slowed down. Casting a spell to hide himself and Eirlana, he carefully made his way over the mountaintop and down the valley. As of yet, he couldn't find anything unusual other than that the walls had far fewer guards and that the fires in the settlement surrounding the lake had dwindled in number. Skyhold was almost abandoned. Confident that there was no trap waiting for them, he fade-stepped the last distance into the grove.

Solas waited again, listening, smelling for any sign of trouble before lowering himself so Eirlana could slip off his back. He transformed back and walked with Eirlana to the oak growing at the far end of the grove. Silently Eirlana lay a couple of white flowers on the grave of their unborn daughter. She shivered when Solas took her in his arms, it still hurt that she had lost her, but the pain didn't sting as much as it used to. She could feel how Solas also mourned the loss. It was strange to be with him here together after the years she had mourned alone. But she was grateful they finally could share their loss without the burden of their secrets between them.

She leant against Solas, and he pressed a kiss on her head. “She will always be a part of us.” he said softly. “And who knows, maybe she has decided to come back.” His hand stroked her tummy tenderly. Under his fingers, he could feel the spark of a new life. “You have given life to something precious again.”

She shivered again under his loving stare, which turned concerned immediately.

“Are you alright? Do you feel cold? Do you need something?”

Grabbing his hand, she smiled. “No, I am fine. We both are. Though it's strange to be suddenly in the snow again.” She squeezed his hand to reassure him. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Solas' ears twitched as he heard footsteps in the distance.

“Stay back.” he whispered and turned back into a wolf. He narrowed his eyes when he saw the glow of a lamp. Silently he moved forward, curious if Cullen had heeded Eirlana's request.”

.

Cullen stepped into the grove alone. It had just begun to snow, and he peered through snowflakes, wondering if Eirlana would really be here or if he was about to step into a trap. Maybe Leliana was trying to test his loyalty in a twisted way. She had become highly suspicious and vigilant after what happened at the Exalted Council. Seeing no one, he walked further when suddenly a giant black wolf appeared from the dark. It was double the size of a big war-horse, and its six yellow eyes were glaring at him.

Startled, Cullen dropped the lamp and reached for his sword, cursing he hadn't brought his shield.

“Cullen?” Eirlana's voice called for him.

He hesitated to draw his weapon further when he saw her approaching from behind the wolf.

“I come as your friend. Are you alone?” she asked.

“I am alone.” he answered, not taking his eyes of the wolf. It had to be Solas, he thought. Slowly he sheeted his sword and spread his hands. “I am not here to hurt you.”

Eirlana smiled, seeing Cullen's gesture. “Solas, please.” she turned to Solas.

Solas took another deep sniff before he was satisfied that Cullen was telling the truth; with a whoosh, he turned back. He gave him another silent stare before he spoke. “You have nothing to fear from me, Commander. I am merely here to escort her.” He kissed Eirlana on her forehead before he stepped back and leaned his back against a tree, not letting his guard down.

.

Cullen felt a chill running through him; Solas wore a full golden and black elven armor under a black-furred coat. He looked nothing like the humble apostate Cullen knew. Though he had the same face, his body language and expression had changed dramatically. It now screamed confidence and self-esteem, and even without having consumed lyrium for years, Cullen knew he had never faced a more powerful mage.

It was a stark contrast with how Eirlana looked as she approached him. Her armor consisted of a silverite breastplate and arm guards, both of elven design and richly engraved. Under them, she wore finely tailored blue robes that were silver embroidered. Her cloak was lined with white furs. She looked radiant, like a noble elf from one of the old elven legends he recently read. Her hair had been intricately braided and decorated with a silver circlet. He also noticed silver jewellery encasing her left ear. It curled along her whole ear and had a couple of silver chains dangling down. Both jewels were adorned with small blue gems that glittered in the light of the lamp.

Cullen was stunned, not knowing if what he saw was real. Before him stood the two most wanted elves in all of Thedas. And they had just shown up, taking the risk of him betraying her request. Although now Eirlana was coming closer, he also could feel her magic radiating from her. It was stronger than ever before.

“Cullen?”

He realised he had been staring at her. “I...”

Not only Solas demeanour had changed, but she had also changed. She seemed stronger and more at ease. There was an air of self-confidence around her she usually only displayed when she worked as a healer. Her eyes had lost the sadness that he had seen in the past two years. She looked more content, happy. It gave Cullen both a feeling of relief and sadness.

.

“I am sorry about the way we parted ways.” Eirlana smiled at him.

Cullen looked back at Solas for a second. He was still leaning against the tree, he looked relaxed, but Cullen could tell he was listening and watching for any sign of danger.

He focussed back on her; he needed to know. “I understand, but I have to ask. Did you know about Solas?”

“Did I know he is Fen'Harel?”

He nodded.

“Yes, I knew. Did I know about his plans or his involvement against the Qunari at the Exalted Council? No. Though I always intended to leave the Inquisition and look for Solas after the Council.”

It shocked him that she knew about Solas' identity, but it wasn't surprising she had planned to leave the Inquisition. He couldn't see her go into a Circle.

Eirlana huffed a laugh. “This is more difficult than I thought. I want to tell you so much, though I find it difficult to find the right words.”

Cullen rubbed his neck, feeling awkward. This is ridiculous; they used to talk all the time. Why did he freeze now? “How... how are you?” he asked; it was the first thing that popped into his mind.

She looked at her feet, gathering her thoughts. “Good.” she looked at him. “I want to say wonderful, but it is more complicated than that. There is much I need to consider.”

He shook his head lightly and smiled. Her answer reminded him of Solas and how he used to give answers that only resulted in more questions. “I see you have spent much time with Solas.”

A beautiful smile of love and affection spread on her lips, giving Cullen a slight sting of jealousy, but he was also relieved to see her so happy.

“I did.” she answered. “Though many matters demand our attention.” She stared at the mountains in the distance. “Everything is much more complicated than I ever could imagine. Good and evil, right and wrong, they are not so easy to define anymore.” Sighing, she looked back at Cullen. “But I didn't come here to discuss such matters. I came to help you. Your symptoms must have returned for a while now.”

He nodded slowly, perplexed that she put herself in danger for him. They must be aware that both the Inquisition and the Chantry were looking for them. Not that their searches had any results, but they both had to know the danger they put themselves in by coming here. And yet, here she was, taking the risk of being captured just to help him.

.

“Come. Let's sit down.”

She walked towards the frozen water of the grove's spring and sat down on its stone edge. Cullen glanced at Solas, who watched them without saying a word before he followed her. She had removed her gloves and

raised her hands towards his face, activating her magic. He closed his eyes as her familiar magic engulfed him. As always, a sense of relief and peacefulness washed over him, chasing away his headache and discomforts of his lyrium withdrawal. Then something changed; he could feel her magic going deeper. The residual lyrium within him reacted immediately; he could feel it hum and answering the call of her magic. It felt both peaceful and overwhelming at the same time.

Cullen wondered, what more had she learned over these past months?

He took a sharp breath when he could feel the lyrium leave his body, burning away like small timber. It gave him chills throughout his body. He inhaled deeply when the magic finally ebbed away, and he felt cleansed and whole again. A little disorientated, he opened his eyes. Solas had moved next to them and offered his hand to help Eirlana up. He hadn't even heard him approach.

Looking at him, she smiled. “Thank you for coming and honouring our friendship. I won't ask secrecy from you. You may tell everyone what has occurred here.”

She pulled out a satchel from a small bag she carried. “Here this is for the others. It is not as effective as my abilities, but it will help them. I am sorry, but I can't risk it to meet them.”

Still, a little dazed, Cullen took it. “I will see to it that they get it.”

“ I have included the recipe to make more. Adan or any other skilled alchemist should be able to make them.”

Solas suddenly whipped his head around and stared up the walls of Skyhold. They could faintly hear some guards talking. He turned back and pulled Eirlana's hood up. “I am sorry, my love. It is time to leave.”

She nodded and gave Cullen a smile. “Farewell.”

Then she turned around and walked back to one of the bigger oak trees.

Cullen watched her before focussing again on Solas.

Solas studied him before he spoke. “I have to thank you for protecting her when I couldn't. I will never forget what you have done for her. I hope that our paths won't cross when you are operating in the name of the Chantry or the Inquisition. Live well, while time remains.”

He inclined his head and then joined Eirlana. Cullen noticed when he turned he had the same elvish ear ornament that she wore. Only his was crafted from dark metal.

Solas transformed into a giant wolf again and crouched down so Eirlana could climb on his back. Watching them, Cullen stood up and immediately could feel a difference in his body. Gone was the stiffness and the pain he was used to. He huffed, not even remembering a time when he wasn't in discomfort. His head was clear, and the constant calling for lyrium had disappeared.

“Goodbye, Cullen.” Eirlana said to him.

“Goodbye.” he answered. “Eirlana. I... please stay safe.” he then raised his voice a little. “And you! Don't you dare to leave her again, or a swear by the Maker I will...”

The wolf turned his head and closed slowly his to many eyes, as if he was acknowledging him. Eirlana smiled at Cullen and ruffled Solas fur. Cullen watched as they both turned invisible and a trail of paw-prints and disturbed snow let into the darkness. By now, it was snowing heavily, and Cullen knew that their tracks would be gone by the morning. Wondering what the future would bring, he walked back to Skyhold. At that moment, he shared Solas' sentiment and hoped he would never be forced to face Eirlana as an enemy.

.

Solas ran over the mountain passes. His heart tugged as he felt Eirlana's sorrow as they left Skyhold behind. He could understand her pain. She had given up so much to be at his side and would face even more heartbreaking decisions in the future. It was a fate he couldn't spare her from.

Suddenly her hand stroked the fur by his ear. Now they were truly bonded; she could feel his sorrow as he could feel hers. There was a spike of gratitude towards each other as they knew they were not alone.

Travelling through the snow, they went to face an uncertain future. But they knew one thing for sure. Being bonded, they would face it together.

.

This is the end so far. I can't wait for DA 4 to blow our minds again with long lost secrets and hidden lore. And our next heartbreak that will come (thnx Bioware ;p)

We already know that the next wizard in our party will have some hidden agenda. And I hope we will finally be able to romance a dwarf.

Until we meet again, for I am not finished writing fanfiction in the epic world of Dragon Age

[ever-fics]

Like Bianca

There is one million unspecified and unnecessary thoughts one has when one has to do the unthinkable. Lavellan has spent the years after the formal inquisition doing just that... hitting the same overworn leather target with some scraps falling off it now. When she had gotten the note they had found him some members of the inquisition regrouped just in case and to formulate a plan.

None more so or more eagerly than Lavellan

Thinking preparing especially after... well Solas.

All of this is his Damn problem which brings us to thought one...

Punch

He can’t seriously go through with this it doesn’t make sense it isn’t like him

... the issue however is that he said he would “Do what is nessisary and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.”

Punch

But it’s just so contrary to well him he always tries to save innocents and approves of me doing it... he loves Cole he gets mad at people hurting innocent so then why would he do the same to a whole world? If it isn’t real why care about some just to kill them anyway.

Punch

Bringing us to thought 2

He has to have a reason he just has to

Punch

There has to be something I missed something not right ....

is the veil unstable?

Punch

Maybe this is his Timetravel reality maybe we aren’t real to him?

Punch

But then why me?

Punch

Why love me?

Punch

Am I unreal?

Punch

Am I so disposable?

Punch

After what happened to my clan you knew I couldn’t loose anyone else and you still....

BANG

Just like that the other wise quiet target fell... broken

“Inquisitor.... you have to stop doing this.”

Usually that voice comes from Cullen the scoldings for overtraining this time it wasn’t.... it was Varric.

“Back from Viscount duties I take it?” Lavellan smiled.

“Eh... when am I ever off duty?” Varric chuckled to himself.

“She.. what?” Cullen could be heard loud and exasperated.

“I would hide if I were you rumor has it Curly doesn’t take well to you breaking dummies...” Varric laughed.

“Well then where do you suggest?” Lavellan questioned.

“Come on there’s a spot not to far from camp that’s good for an occasional chat.” Varric answered leading the way as fast as he could manage. Not letting the fact the inquisitor was carrying a backpack not unlike how Solas used too...

Varric had a small cliffside picked out as horrid as the heat was the desert scenery had its perks.... like an oasis or two.

“Like it I’ve claimed it for the inquisition...granted you name it after yours truely.” Varric smiled.

“You wanted to talk?” Lavellan replied.

“Ok tough crowd... which is gonna make what I’m about to say tougher.” Varric sighed.

“You gotta let him go I’ve said it once I’ve said it twice but this ... it’s a lot Lavellan. Usually I’m passive but chuckles isn’t chuckles. I’ve had bad break ups and worse hang ups. So I’m only gonna say this once He’s you’re Bianca.” Varric frowned.

“My What?” Lavellans shock was all over her face.

“Think about it Dalish... He loved you once maybe... but he also used you... just like Bianca left me. I was hung up on her just like you are... which is why I’ve been so on the fence about this. So call me a Hippocrate but you helped me realize why being hooked on her was bad for me and seeing you go through the same is painful... because I know the feeling... I just want to do the same for you.” Varric explained

“Maybe you’re right it’s just there’s a million things that don’t make sense about it Fenherel or not. He isn’t the kind of person who would just kill a world he .. used to defend people why save them just kill them all later?” Lavellan questioned

“Not that I’m an expert on your people but Isn’t be a trickster god?” Varric laughed.

“I guess so. There’s just other things stuff I read about the Hero of Ferelden and actually stuff in some of your accounts of your time with Hawke that make me question how much I actually know” Lavellan frowned.

“The one thing I know for sure is none of us really know Jack shit.” Varric replies

“Maybe can I ask you a question? Fenris hates magic and has lyrium tattoos right?” Lavellan confirmed.

“Yeah why?” Varric furrowed his brow.

“What happens if Solas is successful and all the elves get magic .... ALL of them..” Lavellan raised her brow in reply.

“I hadn’t though of that... .” Varric smiled.

“I still can’t believe her boyfriend is a dog or maybe king werewolf..... anyway Cassandra wants to talk to you something about reading something she wrote not a report. Something about a romance novel in response to a romance novel she said it’s called fan fiction.” Hawke chimed in with thier usual quick and fast paced demeanor.

Earning a wave from Lavellan

“Anyway thanks Varric. I’ll keep it in mind.”

[glorianas]

i’m okay with himbo sweetheart charles in this, as you kno that’s a character type i enjoy but the THOUGHT of the real charles bradon mopping around about being viscount lisle is UNREAL

[dreamyfanfix]

Chapter 2: Compromising

Previously on the Bachelor. The contestants were introduced to this season's eligible bachelor and it was none other than Genevieve who won the first rose, for her outstanding first impression [insert Genevieve intro scene]. Sienna and Maria Rosso stunned Anthony with their vocal talents and the cousins were able to win the second and third roses of the night [insert Sienna & Maria Rosso singing and receiving roses]. But unfortunately, it was not a spark at first sight for eight contestants and they were sent home [insert upset and crying contestants]. 

Today, the girls are tasked with putting on a play. The girls have separated into two teams of eleven and have to shine in their respective roles to win the attention of the Bachelor. The prize? A chance at this season's first one-on-one dates and a shot at getting not just a rose at the end of the night. [insert scene of Anthony telling a contestant he finds them intriguging].

But don't worry dears, Lady Whistledown will be watching.

Kate was having a pretty good morning. Unlike Sophie and Ben, Kate hadn't lost a contestant during the first episode, so it was a success. Kate cringed a bit at suggesting that maybe one of her contestants, Sienna, start showing off her vocal ability especially when her cousin thought it a perfect time to join in. Luckily Sienna is ever the professional and took it all in stride. Ben had lost three of his contestants and was shocked when Anthony seemed even turned off by some of his contestants that had stayed. The person who lost the most contestants was poor Sophie five contestants meant the poor new girl had only half her contestants left to chaperone. Kate told her though that it does get easier the fewer contestants you have because then you can be a bit more precise with your advice. Sophie seemed not as affected by the first rose ceremony as Benedict and she seemed in pretty hopeful spirits this morning.

"Wow, Pen that was nicely written," Sophie said. "Thanks although it would be nice if the Julie Andrews impersonator would stick to the script," Pen responded walking away from the monitor. "Ahh Sarah giving you a hard time again?" Kate asked. "Yep, I am trying so hard not to hate her," Pen said with her hands making a strangling motion and Kate chuckled. "Is it such a big deal?" Sophie asked quietly. "Yes!" Pen continued "She dips and out of formal tone, it makes the writing seem sloppy. I want to be a screenplay writer, I want to write Pride and Prejudice level romances and for that to happen I need evidence of how good I am as a writer. She's butchering my work," Kate sipped her chai in one hand and used her other to rub circles along Pen's back as she knew it relaxed her "It's not that bad Pen. Didn't Colin say that he would put in a good word for you with that producer friend of his?" Kate wasn't sure what she said but it must have upset Pen because Kate could immediately feel Pen's back stiffen at the mention of Colin and got up to leave. Kate hesitated because she hated cold tea but put her cup down and went after Pen. "Pen! Pen! Come on talk to me. What did I say?" Pen stopped walking when she made it outside her office door and said "You didn't say anything bad. It's just Colin…" "What about him?" Kate asked. "Colin has zero plans to help me," Pen said in a quiet voice. Kate wanted to ask why but she knew that Pen just a needed a breathe so she waited and Pen continued "Colin is busy chasing after my cousin Marina to be concerned about helping me," "Marina? After all that happened? How do you know this Pen?" Kate asked. Pen sniffed "He said as much at last season's wrap party. He was talking with his friends about me and one of them was the producer, Blake Jeffords. He laughed at the idea of being with me and thought the work we do on the show was terrible. He only became a producer to meet women, like Ben, and then he said he finally met the woman he wanted and he would do anything to keep her," Kate winced, she knew about Pen's feelings for Colin "I'm guessing this is Marina he is talking about?" Kate asked. "Yeah," Pen said staring sadly "The worst part is that I turned down a job with Eloise cause Colin told me he would whisk me away from this place and I believed him. El hates me now because it seems like I picked Colin over her and don't have a leg to stand on because she's right," "No she's not," Kater interjected. "Yeah, she is," "No. She's not. Look Pen, Eloise won't understand what you are experiencing, what I have been experiencing my whole life. Earning your way in this world. Eloise and her volunteer feminists are all rich girls with trust funds who can afford to spend all day, on their blog, raging against the machine that is their families and then turns around and party in their family estates," Kate felt bad about talking like that about Eloise but it was true, Penelope worked hard on the show for years but it wasn't until the second year working on the show did Kate find out about how Pen was estranged from her family, for many many reasons but the main of which involved Pen recovering from an eating disorder brought about by her mother and countless family members' comments over the years. Penelope Featherington packed up her belongings one day and left the cushy life she knew because she would rather have mental peace than money and honestly Kate respected her so much for it. "I need the money and after Colin said what he said I just can't help but wonder if I am going to be stuck here forever," Pen said with a sigh. "Penelope. You are too young to give up on your dreams. If you really want to do this then I will help. Just say the word," "Thanks, Kate. Talking to you helped," Pen paused and Kate could see the young girl swallowing her tears and continued "It feels nice to have someone to talk to," Kate got emotional and embraced the young girl and then left to go get her, probably cold now, tea while Pen entered her office for a nap.

Colin Bridgerton was such an oddity in Kate's life. When she met him he was standing outside her dorm playing music for the girl who had dumped him. He was quite a romantic although a bit naive. Colin did not seem like his brothers despite his words, he seemed more interested in wooing and courting a woman than conquering but uni was a weird place to be acting like an '80s rom-com but Kate found herself endeared to the man despite herself. When Kate was in desperate need to get a job after her father's death, Colin recommended her to Elle Danbury and Kate was so thankful for him. Colin, Benedict and her worked as the three producers for the first two years she was here and then Colin quit before the third year.

It turns out Colin was dating Marina in secret the entire third year, when news of their relationship broke out, the world was ablaze. Many commended Colin for being so 'progressive' in dating Marina (insert eye-roll) and others loved the Cinderella-like story. In fact, the frenzy is what gave Kate the idea for her contestant picks this season. What Kate didn't know but Pen did, was that Marina had a fiance waiting for her at home. Marina wanted to use the fame and connections provided by being near the Bridgertons to amass her following and cultivate a brand. The girl was ambitious Kate could give her that but when it was leaked about her secret fiance, Marina's reputation was in shambles. Turns out the leaker was Penelope. Kate was shocked. Pen got reprimanded but at the end of the day, it truly did not hurt the show's reputation at all so it didn't mean anything.

That being said her followers still went up because Marina was still beautiful and even Kate could admit that Marina was taking advantage of a system that was taking advantage of her. Marina's grandfather was shunned from proper society ages ago when he married a Black woman who had sought asylum during Apartheid in South Africa. This was obviously before people in the peerage started to pretend to be open to modern ideologies like interracial marriage and queerness. It meant that not only was Marina and her family distant but there was no love from Marina when the Featheringtons finally welcomed them back.

'It was a different time' people said but Kate knew from interacting with nobility enough that style and laws may have changed but people with power and money often don't need to. When Simon Hastings was the Bachelor, Marina appeared on the show, she slowly became a crowd favourite and in the final episodes had a breakdown about her family history, see Marina came on the show as Marina Featherington but after spilling her guts she wanted to be known as a Thompson. Marina's social media follows skyrocketed with people condemning the Featheringtons and praising Marina for being so strong to stand up to her family. Kate felt for the girl but it was then that she figured out that the 'breakdown' was staged. Of course, the story was true but Marina only did so to give -herself a leg up in the show and it worked.

Social media was of course then in outrage when Marina was eliminated in the next rose ceremony for many reasons but mostly because Marina opened up about something to be considered so personal but also because she was the only woman of colour in the top 10 and many people hoped that with a Black Bachelor they could finally see a woman of colour make it far in the contest. Kate knew that men like Simon had a type and it generally wasn't their own women but in this case, Simon thought Marina's confession was genuine emotion and meant she was feeling something for him and he freaked out because Simon Hastings had no interest in taking any of the relationships he had with the contestants serious and he was just here for a good time.

Kate knew Colin was naive but if he truly was dumb enough to be chasing after Marina, despite all the messiness that went down last year then Kate could only feel bad for Pen.

Kate was still on her way back to get her tea when she could feel someone behind so she turned around. Anthony was standing and scowling at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked him. "I heard you talking with Pen about Eloise and I don't like the way you spoke about her," Anthony said marching towards her angrily. "Well, that was a private conversation you should not have been listening to," Kate said a bit annoyed. "It doesn't matter if I should not have heard it. You should not have said those things," Anthony said louder and Kate looked around to see if anyone was around, it seemed that it was still too early in the day for people to be working. "As much as I am sorry for you to have heard it. It's not like what I said wasn't true," Kate shrugged. "Eloise is genuine and means well and trust me when I say that her feminist ideologies mean a lot to her," "I know she means well but…" Kate sighed "Oh come on Anthony even you can admit that she comes across a tad bit condescending," Anthony crossed his arms and Kate could not help but divert her eyes to his muscular arms for a second "So would it be better if she did not champion her causes?" "Why is it that every time someone questions a white ally they threaten us with their apathy?" Kate asked and then spoke again before he could answer "You know what? Don't answer that. Instead, tell your little sister that if she wants to have a conversation about racist and misogynistic power structures with those less fortunate than her, she might want to check her billionaire privilege at the door," Kate gestured to the left of her and had taken steps closer and closer to Anthony and now there was barely any space between them. "You know you are not so different from Eloise," Anthony said with a smug smile. "Excuse me?" "You stomp around vomiting your beliefs and judgements on everyone and yet I am to believe my sister is the only one who needs to be less smug?" Anthony asked with a raised eyebrow. Kate did not like how heated the action made her feel. Kate rarely had a debate this thrilling as most men did not like her verbal combative nature "If I'm smug then so are you," Kate declared pointing at him. "Oh so mature," Anthony said closing the gap between them with one step, Kate could feel his breath on her face now. "Yes I am mature and so are you. How old are you again? Chasing after 20-year-olds on national television looks exactly like a mature move, DiCaprio," Anthony looked taken back her words and Kate felt victorious but then Anthony looked at her with his almost molten eyes. He almost looked lustful and Kate felt herself get a little turned on at the thought. "Maybe, you're just mad because you're not one of them," Anthony said with a raised eyebrow, the heat-filled look still in his eyes. "No. I'm just mad at the idea that women can truly be fooled by a pretty face, some money and nothing else," "So you think I'm pretty?" Anthony asked, his smug smile had returned. "I think the opinion you have of yourself is way too high," "You didn't answer my question though? Do you think I'm pretty? You know what? Scratch that," Anthony leaned in and whispered, "Do you want to know what it is like to be one of the women who succumb to my charms?" Kate could feel the vibrations of Anthony's voice and his breath on her cheek and Kate had to steady herself by grabbing his arm. It was then that she heard someone clear their throat. They both turned to see who had been watching their heated exchange and simultaneously exclaimed "Daphne?"

//

Kate was mortified. Not only was she caught in a compromising position with the Bachelor of the season but she was caught by Daphne, Anthony's sister.

Usually, Kate was not such a prude about being caught in public showing PDA but any form of sexual activity with the contestants and Bachelors/Bachelorettes is forbidden. It was probably why Colin quit the show after meeting Marina, come to think of it. The problem with the producers getting into these kinds of relationships comes down to it being a bit of a power-dynamic mess. Producers can make or break a contestant's chances on the show and the Bachelors/Bachelorettes need to be focused on the contestants, not the producers.

The real problem was that this was not the first time Kate had been caught in a similar 'compromising' situation. In fact, it was the reason why Thomas Dorset, who was heavily favoured by Philippa, was surprisingly placed second last season.

[penthesilea1623]

I’m not going to do any Inktober for Writers prompts, I told myself. I’ve got to many other things to finish, and I’m certainly not going to see a prompt for “Ring” and write a 2500 word one shot that’s a continuation of a story I have yet to finish on AO3.

I am apparently a big fat liar.

So here it is, a one shot continuation of “In the Absence of Light” a modern au of a modern au about an evil Anabel Hawke, and an unreformed Sebastian Vael who’ve entered into a business like (with benefits) relationship in order to probably take over Thedas eventually. They are surprisingly fluffy in this one-shot however, titled, appropriately enough: Put a Ring on It She’d been nervous the whole evening, in spite of the fact that she knew how it would conclude; with the formal engagement of Lady Anabel Amell-Hawke, heir to the Viscount of Kirkwall, and Prince Sebastian Vael, ruler of Starkhaven.  

It was an event six months in the making, every move, every action, carefully planned, practically choreographed. Where they went, what they did, what they wore. What she wore; as usual men had an easier time of it. The dress she wore now, for instance was a pale pink confection of lace and tulle, kept from being too demure by dark blue velvet ribbons that formed the straps and criss-crossed the bodice. The choice had taken hours. Sebastian was wearing a dark suit and tie. Definitely easier. He only had to look respectable. She had to look demure but not meek, young but not too young, innocent but desirable, desirable but not sexy. Nothing too low (necklines), or too high (hemlines). No black (too stark) no white (too bridal), no red (too sexy). 

While by now they had been seen together in public on numerous occasions, other than some hand holding, one public hug and two public kisses (one on the cheek and one on the lips, all planned in advance with notice to favored reporters) there had been nothing further, though the papers and the internet were buzzing with excitement and breathless anticipation of their engagement.

Which was happening tonight. At some point during this dinner. Not that Sebastian had alluded to it in any way over the course of the evening.

They were in a private dining room in The Golden Stag, Kirkwall’s finest dining establishment. There was candlelight and flowers and a beautiful crystal chandelier illuminating the room with soft light. Their waiter had left them with coffee and dessert a quarter of an hour ago. 

She’d finished her dessert a good five minutes ago, and had ignored the coffee: she was nervous enough without adding caffeine to the mix. Sebastian was still sipping his, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

She tried not to fidget. Tried to wait patiently. Tried not to ask. She failed at all three.

“Aren’t you supposed to be proposing to me?” 

His smile couldn’t quite be called a smirk, but it was awfully close. Instead of answering, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box.  

She couldn’t help straightening in her chair and leaning forward, just a bit, to get a better look at it.

And then, to her surprise, he tossed it to her. 

She caught it instinctively, and started laughing. “Oh that’s romantic. The proposal every girl dreams of.”

His blue eyes were twinkling. “I proposed to you six months ago in Val Royeaux. I’m just ‘putting a ring on it’, as they say.’”

She gave an exasperated huff. “Putting a ring on it? Who on Thedas says that?”

He gave her an unrepentant grin. “Isn’t that how they put it in Ferelden?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Only in the back alleys of Denerim,” she informed him. “And since you’ve brought it up I don’t recall your original proposal dripping with hearts and flowers either.”

“It was memorable for other reasons, though.” There was heat in those blue eyes now.

Her heart raced just at the memory. “It was,” she admitted. Being together like that had been a rare occurrence since then. Rare, but just as memorable. Hopefully, the rare thing would change after tonight.

Sebastian stayed where he was, and didn’t say anything more.

She tried to ignore the vague disappointment she felt, telling herself not to be silly, theirs was a business arrangement. A business arrangement with mind-blowing sex and the eventual founding of a dynasty. Nothing more. But that was more than enough. And it came with what she was certain would be a fairly impressive piece of jewelry. She weighed the velvet box in the palm of her hand. Heavier than she thought. She’d been wondering for days now (months if she were honest) what sort of ring he’d pick out for her. Everyone knew his taste was exquisite, his knowledge of gems impressive, and of course the fact he was one of the wealthiest men in Thedas could only help with the choice.  

But still, for him to just sit there like that.  

She looked at him expectantly, but he simply smiled that deceptively serene smile that he’d mastered since his return to respectability.  

Was he expecting her to ask if she could open the box?

Like hell she was going to ask. 

She arched an eyebrow at him, giving him one last chance to say something. 

Still smiling he took a sip of his coffee. And didn’t say a thing.

With a scowl that she didn’t try to hide, she opened the box.

And temporarily forgot how to breathe. 

When she finally remembered how to, she spoke, surprised at how shaky her voice sounded. “That’s the Aeducan Pink.”

“I thought you might recognize it.”  Sebastian sounded entirely unconcerned. 

The Aeducan Pink. Fifty-six carats. Sold at auction three months ago, to an anonymous buyer for…

“Eighty-four million.” She said faintly.

It had set a record. A completely flawless vivid pink diamond. She’d read about it, seen pictures, but nothing had prepared her for the sight of it, the almost shocking pink color of it and the size. It looked unreal, like something you might find glued in a plastic tiara in a child’s princess dress-up chest. Or would have, if your grandfather had ever let you indulge in anything as mundane as dress-up. But that gem would never have sparkled the way this one did, the lights from the crystal chandelier above bouncing of the facets so brightly that she actually had to blink. 

Wow. She bit her lower lip to keep from saying it out loud. Wow. 

Sebastian rose from the table, laying his napkin beside his plate, and walked to her side. He took the box from her hand, removed the ring and slipped it onto her finger. The stone reached past her knuckle. The fit was a bit loose, and the weight of the rock made it slip to one side.  

Anabel stared at it without speaking.

“Anabel?” Sebastian prompted.

She didn’t raise her eyes. “Mmm?” She murmured. She seemed mesmerized.

The corner of Sebastian’s mouth twitched. “Do you like it?”

“I...I…” She stopped, but finally raised her eyes to his, giving him a sweet smile. “I think it’s possibly the most vulgar piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen.”  

Sebastian burst out laughing. He’d thought she’d see through his joke, but had also thought she’d be a bit more...gentle in her opinion. He should have known better.

She was looking at him expectantly. “Where’s the real ring?” she demanded but her eyes were dancing merrily now.

Still laughing, he pulled the ‘most vulgar piece of jewelry she’d ever seen’ off her finger, and placed it back in the box, before reaching into his other pocket, and pulling out a slightly smaller box. He opened it, holding it for her to see.

Her breath caught again, in a slightly different way than before. 

It was beautiful. Delicate somehow: not that the stone itself was small (though any stone would look small after the Aeducan Pink). Like other ring, the diamond was pink, though a less vivid pink, and it flanked by two much smaller white diamonds.

It was pretty. That seemed a strange word to use for such a gem, but that was what kept repeating in her mind. It was just the sort of ring that she would have picked out for herself, and she wondered that Sebastian had known that. 

To her alarm she found herself blinking back tears. “Much better.”  She said, hoping he hadn’t noticed the tears. 

If he had he didn’t comment on them. “I’m glad you like it.”  

“8 carats?” she guessed.

“Almost.” She frowned and for just a moment he thought it was displeasure at the size, but then realized she was displeased that she’d guessed incorrectly.  “7.97 carats.” He told her and the smile was back.

“It’s beautiful. Tell me about it.” 

“7.97 carats, cushion cut, pure vivid pink but rare in that the skillfulness of the cut causes it to reflect an almost orange light. I was told that there was some debate about whether to classify it as a red diamond rather than pink because of that, but the pink classification prevailed. I thought the peachy tone would compliment your coloring.”

She’d expected him to choose carefully, but she’d thought he’d be picking for the impression it would make on Thedas, not on her. When she looked at him he was watching her carefully. “What’s its history? Who owned it before? Does it have a name?” The questions came out too quickly as she tried to ignore the emotions that realization had caused.

“It’s from Orzammar, from a recently discovered or rather rediscovered mine, a week below the surface.”

“From an Aeducan mine?” She asked. The best diamonds usually were.

“Yes,” He confirmed. “I’ve had some dealings with Bhelen Aeducan in the past. I phoned and he invited me to come and see his personal collection and was kind enough to let me have my choice.”

She gave a small snort. “For a hefty price, I’m sure. How much did…”

He cut her off. “I am not telling you how much your engagement ring cost me.”

“When did you go to Orzammar?” He hadn’t said anything about it.

“I made a slight detour during my trip to Jader last month.” 

Had he wanted to surprise her? And what did that mean? “Does it have a name? I’ve always liked the idea of naming stones. It makes them more unique.” She was starting to babble, never a good sign.

“It does.”

She looked at him expectantly.

“Anabel’s Blush.” He told her and smiled as her cheeks turned a pink almost identical to the rich pink of the diamond.

She put her hands to her cheeks to cool them, silently cursing her fair skin that showed every blush so readily. He’d gone all the way to Orzammar to find stone for her ring and named it after her. Anabel’s Blush. It pleased her more than it should. Stop it, she told herself, it probably has little to do with you. There was a reason to everything Sebastian did, it was one of the things she liked about him, and she suspected she knew the real reason for this. “The press will love that.” She said looking up at him with a smile that felt a bit forced. 

Something flickered in those blue eyes, and was gone before she could identify it. “Yes. It should prove quite the morsel during tomorrow’s press conference.”

“Yes.” She agreed. It would. The press and the royal watchers would eat it up, because Maker (and Sebastian apparently) knew she would blush all over again when he told the press the name of the stone. 

Anabel’s Blush. He’d chosen it and named it for her. 

“Sebastian?”  Her voice sounded small, uncertain somehow. She looked up at him, and from the puzzled look on his face she knew he had heard it too. The words came tumbling out before she could stop them. “I love it. Truly. It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. Thank you.” Shit. She shouldn’t have gushed like that. 

But when she looked at him he was giving her a smile that was different from any she’d received from him before, and she found her self returning it.

For a moment they just smiled at each other. Sebastian came to his senses before she did. 

“Well, then we’d best settle this matter.” He turned her chair slightly, so that it faced away from the table, and went down on one knee in front of her.

Or maybe he hadn’t.

Her eyes widened in surprise.There was no one else here. No one to see it. No one to impress. 

He’d gone down on one knee.

He took her hand in his. “Anabel Esme Amell-Hawke, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that for a moment she was worried he would hear it. 

“Yes.” She told him. Maker help her. 

She watched as he took the ring from the box and slid it on her finger.

It fit perfectly. And he was right: it did compliment her coloring. 

She slid forward so she was actually sitting on his knee, and kissed him. Softly, almost chastely at first, and then as he slid his arms around her she ran her tongue over his lips and the kiss became something else. When it ended they were both breathing heavily. 

She rested her forehead against his.“The reporters are waiting outside the restaurant?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he confirmed. 

“Once they get a picture of the ring, how soon until they descend on the Amell manse?” 

“Twenty minutes?” He suggested. He turned his head pressing his lips to the side of her neck. 

She bent her head to the side so he had easier access. “And perhaps another twenty after that before they start looking for you to leave? I’d be a poor hostess if I didn’t offer my escort coffee, or brandy.  Or something else?” 

He pulled his head back to find her giving him a look so hopeful that he couldn’t help laughing. “After accounting for travel that doesn’t give us much time,” he pointed out.

“Plenty of time if you don’t insist on a bed. Up against a wall or bent over a sofa would hardly take any time at all.” 

He didn’t answer, but after a brief pause set her on her feet and stood himself. 

She was already reapplying her lipstick. 

She handed him a tissue, and he wiped his mouth clean of the traces of pink, and then reached over and scooped up both jewelry boxes.

She smiled as he slipped them back into the pocket of his jacket. “I imagine the owner of that rock will be relieved to get it back.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think it belongs to someone else.? 

Eighty-four million. “What are you going to do with it?” She couldn’t help asking the question.

“Oh, I’ve a few thoughts. It would make a spectacular pendant.” 

She pictured it in her mind. “Yes. Yes it would.” And one could hardly blame her if she sounded a bit breathless. “Any thoughts as to who the recipient of this necklace might be?” 

He leaned down and kissed her again. “I thought I might give it to my wife on the occasion of the birth of our first child.” 

Wow. “I’m certain she would appreciate such a gift.” She said closing her clutch. She transferred it to her left hand, holding it so that the ring would be impossible to miss. 

He took her other hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm. “I don’t know. I hear she considers large stones vulgar.”

She pretended to consider the matter. “Perhaps you’ll be able to persuade her otherwise by the time this child makes an appearance.” 

“I’ll certainly make every effort to do so.” He paused with his hand on the doorknob, and smiled down at her. His eyes went briefly to the ring on her finger. “Are you ready?” 

I’m going to marry a prince. She took a deep breath and gave him a brilliant smile.“Yes,” she told him. “Yes, I am.”  

[tammyfeabakker]

Watch "Abandoned 18th Century Palace of a Portuguese Viscount | Unreal Discovery!" on YouTube

[humblestudentofbeauty]

perpetuallyadrift‌:

“I do not see why not,” Decimus said, smiling just ever so slightly - he hadn’t intended to sound conceited, of course, but he could not deny that he was a little bit shocked, and even in disbelief.  Never had he been offered something like this - of course, he’d had several tutors as a child and then as a youth, but he had gone to lessons partially out of obligation.

This was the first time someone had talked to him as if he was an equal - someone to speak with and not fear, not that he’d ever thought there would have been a reason to fear him - he had been near death ever since he was a boy.

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Hallward - I think I’d rather enjoy that, and - and I mean this with - “  he stopped, backtracking a little, “I mean this genuinely.”  He didn’t know why it felt almost forbidden to him.  He was conversing with another man, that was all - and they were conducting business - but Decimus himself had never felt so genuinely unrestrained in the company of another person.  “You would wish to, ah - acquaint yourself with me?”  Of course, he was aware that he was more or less going around in circles, but it seemed strange and unreal - he did not want to trap Mr. Hallward himself into any sense of obligation!

Basil blinked, uncertain at first whether or not his suggestion had offended the viscount.  It wasn’t until Decimus continued speaking that he relaxed a little.  “Mind?  My dear boy, I live via my art.  It is one of my constant joys.  If I can offer that same joy to someone else, I would be more than delighted to do so.  It would give me great pleasure to be not only your painter, but your teacher, as well.  And given that my room, board, and supplies are all being covered by your family, I see no reason to charge any extra.  My time is yours whenever you will have me.”

There was something about the way Decimus phrased his next question that almost led Basil to blush.  From almost anyone else, a line like that would undoubtedly be a flirtation.  ‘Acquaint yourself with me...’  But this young man, so full of innocence, seemed incapable of such double entendres.

For that reason alone, Basil was able to maintain his composure as he replied, “Getting to know my subject often helps me to paint them more accurately.  I hope...  that it, I don’t wish to be forward.  You are, of course, entitled to your privacy... but whatever you wish to share with me - even if it’s simple things like your favorite animal or favorite fruit - will help me to infuse my painting with all that makes you, you.  The more of yourself that you bare to me... the more lifelike my painting becomes.”

It wasn’t a line - although Basil knew it sounded like one.  Dorian was an excellent example.  Never before had one of his subjects shared SO much of himself with the artist, and that painting was undoubtedly Basil’s most remarkable masterpiece to date.  Dorian.  He did his best not to dwell on the tow-headed man who’d captured Basil just as surely as if he himself were a painting on canvas.  Those days were gone, stolen from him by a once-trusted friend.  Basil had no choice but to move on.  It was the reason he’d agreed to this job - an escape to the country.  Only a few hours in and he could already tell his decision had been the right one.  Decimus would make a glorious muse.

Always Unfinished - Decimus and Basil

[dreamyfanfix]

Chapter 1: Pilot

Kate worked hard for her Masters in Psychology and yet here she was prepping a bunch of tipsy girls on the bachelor they were going to meet. Because that's how things worked in reality television, those moments when the girls get out of the limo and meet the Bachelor for the first time, the thought would be that it was all a real first meeting but no it is merely another manufactured moment made to look real.

Kate, like most people, did not know just how fabricated those moments on reality television were until she got this producer job on the show. Her old classmate Colin Bridgerton recommended her and she was more than excited to finally have a job that did not require her to pick up coffee for old misogynistic men. That was until she got on the job and unfortunately got a look behind the curtain.

Don't get Kate wrong, three years at any job is sure to come with its ups and downs and the first year was great. The first year she came was The Bachelorette UK season and it was none other than Daphne Bridgerton herself. Daphne kind of reminded Kate of Edwina at first, so she was shocked when someone so young came on the show but the more Kate got to know Daphne the more she realised just how Daphne's innocence and naivety often made her rife for manipulation so Kate took her under her wing and guided her and when the final rose ceremony came about when Daphne did not get engaged but instead chose to continue getting to know Friedrich, Kate was proud.

It also helped that Friedrich was a part of her batch of contestants that she picked out of the applicants. Cause that was how the show worked, each of the 3 producers get 10 guys or girls to pick from the contestants, they guide their contestants in hopes of getting further and further along in the show. The goal was to get the bachelorette/bachelor to pick their contestant so that they can win the producer's bonus. The bonuses went to whoever's contestant made it to the top 2. Kate won the first year and that £15,000 and car definitely helped because the next season with the Bachelor Simon Hastings, Kate's contestants didn't even make it to the top 10.

I guess it ended up well because Simon Hastings was a notorious man whore. He and his college buddies spent most of their twenties bedding almost every girl in the country. She had no idea how Benedict was able to get him on the show but considering that the engagement between him and Philippa Featherington did not last long, Kate felt a bit vindicated. When Philippa Featherington returned for the next season of the Bachelorette, Kate's contestant Thomas Dorset made it until the top 2, winning Kate a nice sum of £10,000. Philippa went on to get engaged to Albion Finch and their wedding was still being planned. Although there seemed to be a bit of a hiccup which caused much strain on the show's narration scriptwriter, Penelope Featherington. Yes, this business was quite a bit incestuous. 

This brings Kate back to the present as she gave her batch of girls information on the Bachelor they were on their way to meet.

Kate held up the picture "His name is Lord Anthony Bridgerton,"

"Ooooohhh," said the girls in the car.

"Bridgerton? Like Daphne the previous Bachelorette?" one girl asked.

"Yes, apparently British people cannot get enough of watching members of the peerage fall in love,"

"Well, that is interesting. I don't know about you girls but I do know that I have no idea about the peerage," Claudia spoke up.

The girls all hummed in agreement.

Kate sighed "Yes, yes us Brits love to watch two members of nobility fall in love but you know what causes even greater sensation?" The girls leaned in for the answer "A Cinderella story. A girl with no title falls in love with Prince Charming,"

"Like Princess Diana," Jane spoke up.

"Exactly. Only without a tragic ending. I want you girls to play into the fact that you don't come from the peerage. You are in awe of his world but hopefully ground him in what's important. Family. Anthony Bridgerton is big on family," Kate finished.

She knew the other producers were not going with this angle. Sophie Beckett was new to the show this season and unfortunately had to deal with the contestants that Benedict and Kate hadn't picked. When Kate heard it was Anthony Bridgerton that was going to be the new bachelor she was concerned that it would give Benedict a sure win. No one would know Anthony better than his brother, right? But Kate had a feeling that Benedict's picks were merely rich noble versions of women Anthony had dated in the past. A couple who had titles, others who had siblings with titles. Benedict made it clear in his choices that Anthony wanted someone who would fit in.

It's not like Kate knew Anthony all too well. Just gossip and that brief interaction from earlier.

FLASHBACK (2 HOURS EARLIER):

"Benny boy, I do like you do dear but I will have your head on a pike if you do not get your brother out here to do his introductions to Sophie's contestants," Agatha Danbury said sternly, walking away.

"What is your brother's problem anyway?" Kate asked Benedict once she saw Danbury had rounded the corner.

Benedict sighed and knocked on the dressing room door again.

Kate needed some air so she walked outside of the building and made her way behind the building. There was a nice lake view if one was willing to walk far enough. She also knew that she was not supposed to be out here, but she needed time to think before she went to go get her contestants ready. It was then that she heard a noise. She turned to her left and saw a figure in the woods.

"Who's there? I have pepper spray and I'm not afraid to use it," Kate said.

"Lay down your weapons, my lady," The figure said as it came out of the woods and Kate saw him in the moonlight. It was Anthony Bridgerton.

"Shouldn't you be inside your dressing room Lord Bridgerton," Kate asked with a quirk in her eyebrow.

"I should and yet I find myself looking for an escape," he said smirking at her. He was attractive, Kate could admit that much but Kate also had seen so many kinds of attractive over the years during this show. Yet there was something about the way he held her gaze. Most men ogled her like he did, going from her long legs to her face but it was hard for them to maintain the look once she looked back. Kate was sure Anthony was just that confident that he did not seem to be afraid of her, it was interesting. It sparked something in Kate.

"I never pegged you for a quitter," Kate said "Then again when Benedict told me that his man whore of a brother was quitting that life to settle down, I choked on my coffee I was so shocked,"

Anthony turned to her smirking "You don't like me very much," It wasn't a question.

"No, I don't. But you don't have to worry about that. I know how my bread gets buttered and I also know that unless you get your behind back in that building, there is a bunch of people out there who will be out of a job for 7 months,"

"I understand the contract I signed okay. You just don't get it,"

"Maybe I don't. But if you are not about filling your obligations to this show or your brother then I can tell you that if you continue your walk down the path in the forest, it leads to a road," Kate said taking one deep breath and then turning back to the building.

"You really don't care if I don't participate?" He asked surprise on his face.

"No. If you leave, I get to leave," she said with a smirk.

"So it's not just me looking to hide from obligation?" Anthony said with a satisfied smirk and Kate did not know why but it irked her. It also made her heat up a bit.

"We are not the same," Kate said taking steps toward him "I am here to take care of my family,"

"And I am here for my family," Anthony said taking steps toward her. They were too close now.

"This is ridiculous," Kate said "You can do whatever you want. What's the point of having all this money and power if you are still so constrained?" Anthony did not seem to have an answer to this. "Look I should go," 

Anthony stepped towards her "Wait. I didn't catch your name,"

"That's cause I didn't throw it," Kate says as she begins to walk away.

"Well, I guess I will be seeing you around... If I choose to stay," He said smirking

"Well, if you choose to stay then it will prove that you can be devoted to your family, even though you cannot be devoted to a girlfriend," He laughed at that and Kate couldn't help but smile as well.

Kate was making her way to the producer's trailer to pick up her information to present to the contestants in the limo. Sophie was nowhere to be found.

"Kate, there is no need to rush for all we know there might not be a season with the way this bachelor is behaving," Penelope was sitting by herself.

"Ah it seems he may come around," Kate said to her.

"Well that's good, lord knows the family cannot deal with any scandal," Penelope said.

"Backing out of a reality show is hardly scandal-worthy or am I just that uninformed about nobility?" Kate asked checking the time.

"You don't know?" Penelope asked surprised.

"No, I don't. What am I supposed to know?" Kate asked.

"Well, you didn't hear it from me but I heard Anthony made some super-secret deal with the owner of the network so that he would be this season's bachelor," Penelope said.

"Super-secret? What could the network possibly have on him?" Kate asked.

Penelope sighed "I don't think it's about him. I think it's about Daphne... I think she's pregnant,"

"Oh, that's great for her. I know having a baby out of wedlock is not the best scenario but is that something we are still condemning these days?" Kate scoffed turning to pick up her bag

"Well it wouldn't be so scandalous if the supposed father was Friedrich and not Simon Basset," Penelope said.

Kate dropped her bag on the ground and whirled around "You lie!"

"I mean I cannot be sure but I heard Anthony got into a huge fight with Simon about it. It also explains why he hasn't been seen out on the town for a year now. The gossip rags all thought he was still hurting over the Philippa situation but anyone with eyes knows he didn't love her," Penelope rolled her eyes.

"Damn Pen. You still know all the good gossip," Kate said before she left.

END OF FLASHBACK

Kate was stunned when she heard Pen tell her all that stuff about the Bridgertons and Simon Basset. He was a looker and a charmer sure but Kate was under the impression that he and Anthony were best friends, and going after your best friend's little sister knowing she is involved with another man AND getting her pregnant was extremely scandal worthy. It also did not help that Friedrich's aunt owned the network, Charlotte Queen. Kate could see how Anthony would have to negotiate a deal like this, the highest ratings the show received were when Daphne was the Bachelorette, maybe they thought another Bridgerton was needed to elevate the show's declining ratings.

Kate always thought that Daphne was never the type to fall for the kind of tricks and charms of men like Simon then again there is a reason why men like that actually get the girls. Even Kate could admit that Anthony was quite fit and he seemed like he could put on the charm. If Penelope was right, which she normally is, then it was really sweet he was doing this for his sister but, if not, Kate worried about his real motivations. He was still a 'reputable Rake' as Pen would say, which means she had to do everything to protect the hearts of her contestants especially because one of them was her baby sister, Edwina.

[dreamyfanfix]

(WIP) The UnReal Viscount Chapter List

Kate Sharma is a producer on the bachelor. Anthony is the Bachelor. Peel back the curtains of reality television. With this many attractive people in a single place, there will be some sexy times.

Chapter 1: Pilot

Chapter 2: Compromising

Chapter 3: Unsettling