gptdrawing

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"

[thebadboyfanclub]

This Is What You Deserve (Daemon x Reader)

Look man you don't choose when the smut will come to you, it just does. This was requested by anon and @ladystrongofharrenhall which I feel the need to apologise cause it like barely is what you requested, if you feel like you don’t like it please let me know and we can figure out something else for me to write for you.

“The dowager lady of Harrenhall, (y/n) Strong with her son and heir Arryan Strong”

The man introduced the lady dressed in all black that stood before the iron throne with a toddler holding her hand that was dressed in deep blue, a spitting image of his father, soft curls fell directly on his face and eyes that had stolen the color right out of the deep sea.

The lady bowed before the king that had invited her to court after the incident that had occurred in Harrenhall, within the night she had lost her husband and good father, both of them gave their lives to save her and her son, now she was in kings landing for the first time since her wedding.

“My king, it is very thoughtful of you to invite me to your court”

“Nonsense, your husband was one of the most trusted men within the gold cloaks and his father was a good friend of mine, last time I saw you you were dressed in all white”

“A lot has changed since then I am afraid”

“Indeed, I grief for the loss you have suffered, I summoned you to offer you a place in my court, under my protection, your born family has been an ally since the beginning, your son will be my cupbearer and will receive the same education as every noble boy and you can live within the castle as the queens' companion”

“Your honor me, your grace, it gladdens my heart that you thought of us amongst the countless matters that demand the kings' attention”

(Y/n) had learned from a very young age that a lady was to act a certain way, she had just lost the earth from underneath her feet, left with a son in her arms and a scandal on her back that she had to shield him from, she could feel every pair of eyes on her back, all of them like crows that waited for a sign of weakness, she would not give them that satisfaction, not today, not ever.

“The servants will lead you to your chamber, I believe your travel is quite long”

“Indeed, thank you, my king”

“My king”

Sweet Arryans voice was heard as he bowed in unison with his mother, a boy of 4 years of age, he was (y/n)s sun and moon, anything and everything she did she did it to make sure his future is secured and his present time is as happy as it could be amongst the chaos.

-

“My boy”

“Mother!”

Little Arryan ran to his mother and hugged her as tightly as his little arms could although he could not completely wrap them around (y/n)s hips since this was the height that he was.

(Y/n) scooped up her son to check for any injuries or some type of harm, (y/n) had attempted to stay calm and calculated in front of the court, however, imagine her surprise when she left her little boy with Baela and Rhaena to play together and when she came back Baela told her that their father Daemon had taken Arryan up on Caraxes.

“You looked tiny from up there”

“I did, didn’t I? Let’s go inside now”

“You are welcome, I am sure that was a moment the child will never forget”

(Y/n) was fuming, Daemon had approached her a few morrows ago to offer his condolences, being a widower himself he could indenting the struggle and pressure she was under, at the time she faintly smiled and curtsied to thank him.

Now (y/n)s eyes threw a dagger and her lips were a thin line, how dare he so arrogantly demand a thank you for putting her child in danger? Arryan wasn't a Targaryen, nor was he a kin to Daemon, the possibility of Caraxes to harm the child was huge.

“Baela, take Arryan inside, I shall be with you in a moment”

Her voice grew cold, and the surroundings were resembling of a cloud closing in and overshadowing the sun, like a warning of a strong that gathered around Daemon's head who seemed clueless of the warning signs that he is daughters picked up so easily that got them almost running away from themselves

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who gave you the authority to take my son up on that beast with you?”

“You should feel flattered, he is one of the few people that get to say that they have gone up on a dragon”

“I know that your family likes to frown down upon us from your mighty dragons but listen to me well, my son is the future lord of Harrenhall and the carries my born name of Featherdall, we were the biggest army Aegon the conqueror had on his side when he took over the seven kingdoms, so the next time you even think of coming around me and my son with your high and mighty attitude I would advise you to think how well would it go for you if you angered the house that put you up on that throne, got it?”

Daemon was stunned, he just stared at the lady that stood before him with her breath heavy and audible enough for everyone to feel her fury, she wasn’t a dragon but Daemon swore he could see fire in her hues, no one had dared to speak to the rogue prince this way, still there she was, commanding him and keeping her head up high, not an ounce of doubt or fear in sight.

“Yes, my lady”

“That’s what I thought”

-

“Alright my love, let me tuck you in”

“Momma, can I go up to the dragon again?”

“I am not sure sweetling, the prince is a busy man”

“But he said he will find time whenever I want”

“Did you like the dragon that much?”

“Uh-huh, you said Papa is up in the sky, I wanted for him to see me better”

(Y/n) was speechless, tears welling up in her eyes at the doting explanation her son had given her, she could detect the joy the little boy had experienced that day, she had not seen him this happy since Harwin was alive.

“Go to bed now, I will ask Prince Daemon on the morrow”

“Thank you, momma, goodnight”

“Goodnight my love”

Regret took over her body and soul like poison, she lost composure and talked back to a royal, she did not even take a minute to think of how did Arryan end up on the dragon, (y/n) had switched to defense mode the moment she saw the humongous animal land and did not care of anything else besides that her child could have been harmed.

Daemon could not find sleep, he tossed and turned for hours but his mind was occupied with playing (y/n)s speech over again instead of leaving him to rest, she was fuming however there was something in the way she looked at him, at the trembling tone of her voice that Daemon could empathize with… grief.

It was almost like the Gods had orchestrated it, leaving them restless and wandering in the gardens with the encounter that had a sour taste in their mouths.

Daemon was the one that noticed her figure sitting down on the bench, a silk cape covering her as her hair was down instead of a tight undo like it was in the morning, he chose to remain silent as he approached slowly and sat next to her, (y/n) did not turn to look at the prince, something told her exactly whom it was.

“I am sorry, I should have not talked to you that way, it was entirely inappropriate”

“You were defending your child, I should have asked permission to take him with me. I understand why you lost your temper”

“Sometimes I dream of putting him in a bubble, to keep him from… harm”

Her voice cracked once more, at that little word so many emotions were hidden, love, fear, anger, confusion, Daemon looked at her side profile while the moonlight caressed her cheeks, the difference of expression between the lady he met in daylight was tremendous, she had lived every day in agony but painted a smile for her son, now he could see the true cracks.

“Why did you come back to kings Landing? Harrenhal might have been better?”

“The king summoned us, Harwin and I had never presented our son to the court, now I had to make sure he was established as the future lord of the house strong”

“Did you love him? Harwin”

“Deeply, he treated me with kindness and respect”

“I don’t know how much respect did he show to your wedlock, especially with all the whispers that surrounded his name”

“Harwin was a wonderful man, I lost three children before we had Arryan, my father told him that he would understand if Harwin wished to leave our marriage, still he stood by me and loved me”

“Is that what love is to you? A man sticking at your side while he has other children”

“I will not let you taint my dead husbands' name, I have already apologized why are you trying to get me riled up again?”

“I’m not”

(Y/n) scoffed at Daemon's protest and got up so she can get some distance from him, her back was now facing him and Daemon realized he was pressing down on a wound that was still tender, it was not his place to question their marriage since he has two on his back.

“I just, you are a young lady you certainly deserve more than the bare minimum?”

“Bare minimum? Are you even aware of what most women have to put up with when it comes to their husbands? Beatings, embarrassment, constant pregnancies, bastards, public belittling, Harwin treated me with care, he was sweet and offered me much more than any woman could ever wish for”

“He fucked Rhaenyra”

The harsh slap against Daemon's cheek was heard loudly around the garden, even (y/n) was taken back by her action, she did not understand why he kept pressuring her, like a knife that he had stabbed her with and now he kept twisting it around, Harwin was nowhere near perfect but there was a level of understanding between them, he kept her away from the dramatics and carefree enough, why was Daemon kept nitpicking at her?

Daemon's eyes grew wide, it stung but it did not hurt him, was most shocking, they both gawked at one another waiting for someone to do or say something, maybe it was (y/n)s sudden rush of emotion that compelled him to do the same or just him being compulsive, whatever it was that took over it was strong enough to push her against the nearest wall and plant the most passionate kiss (y/n) had ever experienced, at first she froze still the heat that radiated from his hands as they roamed her body and the strength his kiss held sweetened the moment and she closed her eyes, in a way one would say she surrendered.

“This is what you deserve”

Daemon growled as the kisses went down from her lips to the nape of her neck, Harwin was a sweet lover, his touch was soft, and (y/n) was taken care of, however (y/n) could see that it lacked in passion, he did not yearn for her, it was just another way to show her that he loved her.

“We could get caught”

“Not if you are quiet”

That would have been a piece of wonderful advice had he not made it so difficult by thrusting intensely, she whimpered from pleasure while her nails dug deep into his skin and drew blood, she even bit her lip to the point of bleeding to prevent herself from letting the whole keep know how much she was enjoying this, she had never felt what it was like to be craved, wanted, needed even, Harwin loved her still his body did not weaken at the sight of her nakedness nor did his hues darkened during their sacred bedding.

Daemon's eyes were as dark as the deep waters of the ocean, his grip on her waist was ironlike, and his body collided with hers while she hoisted up her leg to his waist for more access and comfortability, the match was resembling the concept of throwing fire to gasoline.

“Please Daemon”

“You sound so pretty when you beg”

Both of them were out of breath but kept pushing, their bodies acted like they knew each other for years, that this was a normal day for them, they instinctively were conscious of how the other liked to be touched, kissed, gazed upon, it was addicting, it was (y/n)s first time of feeling like the queen of the world and Daemons first time that he wanted to over-perform, to fill every need and tend to her every desire.

“Hush”

He shushed her when a yield escaped her lips as she reached her end, he kissed her once more as she moaned in his mouth, his pace slowed and both of their bodies relaxed when they rode the pleasure at the very last wave of it.

“Do you now understand what I meant when I said that you were getting the bare minimum?”

Daemon whispered in her ear before he left a kiss on her cheek, her face glowing and wet from droplets.

“Yes”

“You are burning up”

(Y/n) was sweating profusely, although Daemon wanted to take a good look at her, to remember the moment that a faint smile decorated her lips as she grew tired but her body was relaxed as it was used to the very bit of its powers, Daemon softly blew some air at the side of her neck to cool her, though all it did was compel her body to grow goosebumps and shake.

“Stop, it tickles, you are no better either, you are a sweaty mess”

“The sweat of a champion, anyone that would even glance at you would see how content you are”

“And you are not? You are still inside of me”

“I must admit, it is like a nice warm hug”

(Y/n) pushed him off at the cheeky comparison making him giggle, she fixed her dress to hide most of the damage while Daemon pulled his trousers up and buttoned up the shirt with the few buttons that were left since (y/n) had ripped it open.

“We must go”

“I will collect Arryan on the morrow after I break my fast”

“And who told you you could do that?”

“No one, I assumed I get privileges when you were holding on to me for dear life whilst I-“

“Alright alright, I will see you on the morrow”

Requests are open!

[pinkydevil16]

Daemon Targaryen x reader

Daemon was known for being the rogue prince, when he walked into rooms women would swoon and sigh at him, Lord's would worry for his reasoning of being at Kingslanding and the people feared the gold cloaks. However Y/n did not fear, worry or swoon at him, she simply saw him for who he truly was. Trouble, and he liked to make sure it was known to her he was going to cause trouble, he enjoyed watching her face when he would walk into the hall. His brother turning to look at his eldest daughter as Daemon would boldly stare at her, Y/n's eyebrow raised waiting for the cocky and unnecessary comment he would always make to cause her father's heart to skip in worry. Y/n and Daemon always seemed to dance around each other, her younger sister Rhaenyra finding him charming always drawn to him in a way Daemon wished Y/n would be. The older girl was wiser and quicker than her sister, she had always been that way, when their mother passed she had seen her father's gaze wandering to Alicent, Otto always whispering in his ear of what to do as he grieved for his wife. Y/n did not miss anything in court, she was the eldest, the true heir and her father had declared it the day after her mother died. Her fate sealed in that moment forever, Y/n only a young girl of 17 when she was made heir to the iron throne. She had not hid away from the title, Alicent only a year younger, only 2 years elder to Rhaenyra who did not understand why her best friend would marry her father. Y/n understood Alicent's position, she did not have a choice in the marriage but she did have a choice in her actions towards Rhaenyra. 

"Hello my dearest Niece, you truly have grown since i last saw you." Daemon's voice came out like honey as he stared at Y/n, a girl now 20 who simply hummed in response to his comment, her father scowling slightly before chuckling and clapping his hand onto his brother's shoulder. 

"Indeed she has Daemon, many suitors have asked for her hand but she is fierce as a Queen should be." Viserys smiled proudly at his daughter who raised her hand and caressed his face, she knew of his illness doing her best to help him when he needed it. Smiling kindly at him she bowed before leaving, finding her sister awkwardly speaking to Alicent, the two trying to salvage their friendship due to change in power.

"Ahh sister! How is our Uncle?" Rhaenyra spoke quickly, latching onto Y/n as the three fell into step. Y/n sighing and rolled her eyes as she thought of their troublesome Uncle.

"The same as always, i am quite shocked he came back considering the last time i saw him was when he was caught spewing gossip of an heir for a day." Y/n spoke calmly, collecting a cup and drinking as the two younger girls began chatting wildly of the celebrations. Alicent had trouble with her son Aegon but Rhaenyra had tried to help her, handing him off to servants so Alicent could drink with her having only given birth to him a few months prior. Y/n hoped the two would reconcile but Alicent could see the way Rhaenyra looked at Daemon, neither of the girls realising Daemon would only look Y/n in the same light. Daemon left his brother, collecting a jug of wine as he dropped next to his Niece, his wine spilling onto them both as she nurses her drink ignoring his presence.

"It is not nice to ignore your Uncle Y/n, i might be offended." He pouted, leaning back against the bench as he filled both their cups, his leg brushing against hers as he stared at her. She truly had grown, he had always known she would be beautiful as he watched her grow, when she had been declared heir he had been exiled but news had reached him quickly of the many Lords wishing to marry her. 

"I do not think you could take offence even if you tried Daemon. Where is your poor wife?" Y/n turned to him, a lazy expression on her face as she drank her wine, Daemon pursing his lips before sighing loudly, stretching out so his arm looped around her shoulders and legs pressed against hers.

"The bronze bitch is in the Vale where she belongs and can damn right stay. As long as she's not near me." He huffed out, Y/n rolled her eyes, drinking some more as she relaxed against the bench, Daemon's pinching her as she gave him attitude. Y/n turning to him annoyed, grabbing his arm and pushing it into his body.

"You should respect your wife, she will have your children one day." Daemon poked her annoyed at her statement, he hated when Y/n spoke of his wife, reminding him of his 'duty' as she would say.

"She is not my wife, i did not choose her and i will not give her my child." Y/n looked at him from the corner of her eyes, pushing her cup towards him as Daemon refilled it.

"I do so hope my future husband will not see me the same way as you see your poor wife. It is not her fault Father married you two." Daemon despised when Y/n would speak of her future, in his eyes she would marry him and they would rule together, he had chosen her years ago to be his bride until Viserys had married him off and forced a wife on him. 

"Do not speak of such things." Daemon groaned out, standing up and stalking off to annoy his brother, Y/n smiled at her cup knowing she had once again gotten under his skin. He was here to cause trouble for her and her father so she would cause him problems simply by being herself. She was not blind to the way he looked and spoke to her, or his reputation but she had been battling with him for years around his wants for her and she enjoyed the game. 

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[omgkatherine01]

My Safe Heaven (Aegon II Targaryen)

Aegon II Targaryen x F!Reader

Summary: You were a servant girl of the Red Keep, who caught the older prince's eye.

Warning: 18+ There will be smut, mention of sexual assault, mention of death.

Note: I hope it came out good!

"You have asked for me, my Prince?"

Aegon turned to the female voice that spoke once you stepped into his chambers.

You, a servant girl was holding a tray with wine. She was indeed pretty, he thought.

He saw you when he went to the wine cellar. He never seen you before. He would have remembered, surely. So when he asked about you, he was told of your name.

So he wanted to take you tonight.

"Yes," he said, clearing his throat, "Pour me some wine, will you?"

You frowned slightly but did as told. You placed the tray on the table and poured some wine into the goblet. You turned and walked toward him, and handed him the goblet and hesitated as you watched him drink.

"Is there anything you wish to speak of?"

The Prince pulled the goblet away from his lips and looked at you in confusion, "Speak of what?"

You blushed a little, and bowed lightly, "I apologize, I have seen this look before many times, so I assumed you wanted to say something."

Aegon smirked slightly with amusement, "And why would I want to sure with you my worries and thoughts? Does anyone in my family does it with you?"

You held your head high, "Your mother, the Queen." Aegon raised his eyebrow in surprise. "Ser Criston Cole does. Your sister-wife does."

"And what of my brother, Aemond?" Aegon asked with slight amusement.

"He does not," You answered, "But he is nice, and not as cold as everyone say he is."

Aegon hummed and stepped closer to you, "What do you think of me? Do you think I can be nice to you as well?"

You weren't surprised or afraid from how close he was getting. You simply took the goblet from his hand, "Perhaps if you would drink wine less, you would worry the Queen less."

Aegon stared at you, stunned by your boldeiness. You walked back to place the goblet on the tray and let out a breath. You shouldn't be speaking like that, what are you thinking?! your mind screamed at you.

You turned to him and he continued to stare at you. But you noticed that his eyes grew angry, it was like looking at--

You let out a breath again, "I apology my Prince. I have a bad past with drunk people."

"I don't care," Aegon said as he moved closer to you, his chest inches from yours. "Remember your place, girl. Next time, I will have your head on a spike. I hope I am clear."

You lowered your eyes, "Yes, Your Grace."

"Leave the wine here, and go."

You moved away and bowed before leaving the chambers. Aegon glared at the door before moving to grab the goblet to pour some more wine.

He paused for a moment before placing the goblet down on the tray with a groan.

---

Aegon hadn't seen you since that evening, which was two days after. He didn't knew why he was searching for you every time he saw servants around.

You were just a servant who didn't knew how to held her tongue. And since he complained to his mother, perhaps she got rid of you.

But for some reason, since that evening, Aegon had hardly drunk any wine that was served to him. Which pointed out by Aemond. That annoying girl got to me, he thought with annoyance when he wanted to tell him what happened but then stopped himself.

He crushed himself for thinking about your sad eyes when they met his angry ones.

He was annoyed at himself for even thinking about you.

But after another two days, he decided to speak to his mother about you. So when he stepped into his mother's chambers, he was surprised to see you there, helping his mother with her dress.

"Aegon," Alicent said as she stepped off from the small chair, looking at her older son with surprise.

You bowed to him but didn't make any eye contact with him, which for some reason again, it annoyed him. He looked at Alicent, "Mother."

"I'm surprised to see you here, in my chamber," Alicent said, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes..." he said, "I just, uh, it seems that Helaena needs you, so I decided to come and tell you myself."

Alicent frowned in concern, "Is she alright?"

No idea, he wanted to say. "She is. She just asking for you."

"All right," Alicent said and looked at you, "Thank you dear, you may leave now."

"Yes, Your Grace," You said and bowed to her and Aegon before quickly leaving.

Aegon pulled himself to the door before he could think, "Wait." You turned to him and darted your eyes down to the floor. Aegon hesitated and cleared his throat, "Bring me some wine to my chambers."

You hesitated but bowed and walked away.

You brought the wine to the Prince's chambers just like he asked, and pored some into the goblet when he walked inside and closed the doors.

He watched you walking closer and handed the goblet to him without making eye contact. He drunk the wine and handed it back to you.

He watched you walking to the tray and he cleared his throat. "Hold it," he said when he saw you were about to pour another. You turned to him in confusion and now you were looking at him.

"There is a feast this evening, so help me get ready," he said, clearing his throat.

"Your Grace?" You asked with confusion. "I don't think I--"

"I'm your Prince, right?" Aegon asked, and you nodded with hesitation, "So, I want you to help me get ready."

You hesitated but nodded lightly, "Would you like me to drew you a bath, Your Grace?"

Aegon nodded, "Yes."

You nodded and walked to his bathroom to fill his bath. Aegon glanced to the bathroom where he could see you. He slowly started to pull his clothes off of him as he slowly walked toward the room.

You glanced toward him but then away when you saw him naked. You cursed yourself and looked down. You bowed to him and turned to leave when he got inside.

"Wait."

You paused and turned to him but kept your eyes down. He wasn't looking at you either, "Stay here with me."

You hesitated but did as was asked. You looked around the room and Aegon darted his eyes to you, "What you said before..."

You turned to him and looked only at his face. "About having a bad past with drunk people..." he said, "What happened?"

"I don't think you will be interest in this, Your Grace," You said.

"Try me," Aegon challenged.

You looked at his face for a moment before you stepped closer and slowly sat next to the bath. You took a deep breath before explain, "I lived with my parents and older sister until I was seven. My father was a drunker and an abusive man, he was a failure as a father, and as a husband. One evening, my parents had a horrible fight... and he hit her, that badly it killed her moments after."

You tilted your head back and darted your eyes toward him to see him staring at you intensively. You glanced down at your hands, "And then... he turned his anger at my sister, who was 14... he hit her..." You looked at him, "And then he did more than that."

Aegon's eyes slight grew, and you looked down. "She screamed at me to run. So I did. I left my home, and came to the Red Keep when I was 14. The Queen knows about my past."

"So how come I haven't seen you before?" Aegon asked.

You smiled a little sadly, "I was trying to not get your attention. After what I heard... I didn't want to be like my sister. Or like the other maids and servants here."

Aegon looked away from you for a moment before looking back, "Then why did you came that evening when I called for you?"

You thought for a moment before looking back at your hands, "Well, I can not say no to the Prince... but I also wanted to see if what my gut tells me is true."

"About?"

"That you are not horrible like they say you are," You said softly as you looked at him.

Aegon stared at you for a moment with surprise. You looked back down at your hands. Aegon blinked and cleared his throat as he looked away. "You may go now to my bed chamber," he said and you looked at him, "I'll be alright here."

You nodded slowly and got up. You bowed and walked out of the bathroom.

---

After you helped the Prince get dressed for the feast, you had left to do your duties at the kitchens. But as the evening continued on, a maid approached you with a sad expression.

"Y/n, Prince Aegon wants you in his chambers," she said quietly for only you to hear.

"What, he already left the Throne room?" You asked.

The maid nodded, "Yes, and... he's drunk."

You paused and let out a soft sigh. You nodded and walked passed her to the doorway.

You walked down the hallways and soon enough reached Aegon's chambers. You knocked on the door and waited a moment before opening it and stepping in.

Aegon was in the middle of the room, trying to take off his jacket. "My Prince," you said as you bowed and closed the door.

Aegon turned to you, clearly he was indeed drunk and smiled, "Y/n. Mind helping out?"

You walked closer and helped him get out from his jacket and shirt. You quickly replaced his top with a loose, white bedshirt. Aegon chuckled and he let you led him to the bed and he sat there.

"Give me some more wine."

You paused, "I am afraid I can not, my Prince," you said and grabbed the blankets, "I think you drank enough."

"You can't tell me what to do, or how many wine I can drink," Aegon said, pouting like a child, "I haven't drunk much since I met you."

"Good," you muttered and nodded for him to lay down, "Please, lay down on the bed."

Aegon smirked, "Are we going to fuck now?"

You rolled your eyes, "No, my Prince. You going to sleep."

Aegon groaned but pushed himself into his bed, and you pulled the blankets up.

You blow up a few candles and was about to blow the last one which was next to the bed. "Stay here," Aegon asked softly as he grabbed your wrist.

You sighed softly, "My Prince, we--"

"Just, stay here," Aegon said softly, and you stared down at him with a tilt of your head. "I don't wish to be alone tonight."

Your slight annoyed look turned sympathy. You looked at him for a moment before nodding slightly. Aegon slid aside, and tagged on your wrist. You hesitantly sat on the bed and moved to propping yourself against the various pillows.

You were startled as Aegon placed the side of his head on your chest. You took a breath to calm yourself.

"Tell me why?" he muttered as he wrapped his arm around your stomach.

"Why what, My Prince?" you asked softly.

"Why does everyone hate me?"

You froze by those words and without realizing, you started to slowly and softly brush your fingers on his hair.

"It's what my mother used to do for me," you muttered. Aegon let his eyes slowly close, feeling relaxed by your soft touches. You glanced down at him, "And no one hates you."

"My family does," he muttered.

You shook your head lightly, "No. They don't." You debated if you should admit you don't either, so you admitted, "And neither do I, My Prince."

None of you spoke after that, but you felt him tightening his grip on you.

----

Weeks had past.

Every evening, Aegon would seek you, and the two of you would be spending time together inside the Prince's chambers.

But nothing happened between you two besides talking about how your day went. You the one who started that after that night of the feast, when you started to ask how was his day and if he wanted to speak of it more.

Having you around, coming every evening to spend the time with him, asking him how was his day, and listening to how he was, made Aegon feel something. He felt like you cared for him.

You could easily say no for coming over, he told you that, but you still coming. You sit by him, you brushes your fingers through his hair to help him fell asleep.

You were also keeping an eye on his drinking limits.

You became his friend.

His only friend.

Ever since he met you, he hasn't gone to the brothels or went after the female servants, which Alicent was informed of. She was highly surprised and delighted by it.

She didn't knew why. But she hoped that it would continue this way.

However, she was informed that there was one female servant that was keeping Aegon company.

You.

So, the Queen summoned you to her chambers one evening.

"Your Grace, you wanted to see me?" you asked as you bowed.

"Yes, I wanted to speak to you about something," Alicent said, "Come, sit." You sat next to her on the couch, and looked at your hands nervously. "I wanted to ask, if you are alright."

You looked at her and blinked. You nodded, "Um, yes, Your Grace. I am."

"Really?" the Queen asked, concerned, "Because if not, and my son has said not to tell me, you can."

You looked slightly confused, "No. Uh, nothing is wrong, Your Grace."

Alicent looked highly surprised, "Aegon hasn't... done anything to you?"

You shook her head, "No, Your Grace."

"I was told you going to his chamber every evening because he asks for you."

You hesitated but nodded, "Yes, Your Grace. We only sharing conversations."

Alicent's eyebrows rose up in surprise, "You and Aegon only having talks in his chambers? Every evening?"

You nodded, "Yes, Your Grace."

The Queen was surprised by this information, "But he isn't himself anymore... not that I miss that part of him."

You shrugged lightly.

Alicent had dismissed you and let you go back to your duties. You were asked to help with Aegon and Princess Helaena's twins.

Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were adorable and you enjoyed to spend time with them, and they with you. You were reading them a bedtime story, with Jaehaera lying her head on your chest while Jaehaerys was lying inside his crib.

When you saw that the twins were now asleep, you stood up quietly and placed Jaehaera in her crib. But when that happened, the little Princess opened her eyes and reached her arms to you.

You smiled as you picked her up into your arms, and gently rubbed her back, "You need to sleep, little Princess."

Jaehaera rested her head on your shoulder as she closed her eyes. You stood by the window, watching outside as you rubbed Jaehaera's back softly.

"Now I see what taken so long to come visit," a quiet voice spoke and You turned to watch Aegon walking in, with a small smile on his lips.

"Your twins wanted me to keep them company, Your Grace," you said as a small smile appeared on your lips, "I could not say no to them."

"I wasn't expecting you to," Aegon said softly as he approached closer.

You looked around at the empty room before at the Prince. "Your mother had asked for me. She wanted to ask if you had done something to me because I am keeping you company every evening now for weeks."

"Mmm. And what have you said?"

"I admitted we only having conversations, that is all," you answered quietly, feeling that the little Princess had fallen asleep in your arms. You continued rubbing the child's back gently as you glanced to her figure with a small smile.

Aegon noticed the smile, and the way your eyes seemed different when you were looking at the twins. He suddenly thought about what it would be if his twins were with yours instead with his sister. If he would have seen you before, he thought maybe, you could have changed him long ago.

He could have had someone who truly cared for him, long ago. He wouldn't have felt so alone.

He wouldn't care that you were a servant, he would have wanted you to be his side. He would have fight his parents for you. He could...

"You can be a great mother one day," he suddenly spoke.

Your eyes darted to him and then at Jaehaera with a small smile, "Perhaps. Who knows if my time will come." Your smile faded slightly. "It would be nice to have family of your own. With someone who will care and love you."

I could do that Aegon thought as he stared at you while you walked to Jaehaera's crib and placed her inside. This time she was completely asleep.

You smiled softly as you looked from her to Jaehaerys and followed the Prince out of the chamber. You followed him into his chamber, "So how was your--"

You turned to him and your words were cut off when Aegon crushed his lips against yours. He placed his hands on your neck to keep you from moving away, which he hoped you weren't thinking of doing.

Aegon pulled his lips from your, but only for inches, "I have never wanted something that much until I set my eyes on you," he muttered between your lips.

He felt your hands moving to his cheeks and up to his hair as you kissed him back, passionately.

"Aegon--" you tried to say but it came as a moan as he released your lips only to move his lips down your jaw, trailing down to your throat. You moved your head back, giving him more room as he trailed his kisses down.

You grabbed his cheeks again and you the one to pulled him to your lips, kissing him with so much passion and hunger that surprised and delighted him.

Aegon, gently as he could, reached down and pulled your legs up. You wrapped you legs around his waist as he moved you both to his bed. He placed you on the sheets without breaking the kiss.

Your mind was racing. You tried to think, but all you could think and feel right now, was Aegon.

His lips.

His hands.

The two of you took each other's clothes off, Aegon pulled himself to your face and kissed you again hungrily.

You slipped your tongue past his teeth, and Aegon lost it. He grabbed hold of your face instantly pressing deeper into you, allowing himself to fully taste you. You moaned at the feeling of him.

Aegon pulled his lips from yours, trailing down to your throat and farther down. You moaned as you felt his lips on your chest.

"You're more beautiful than I could ever have imagined," he muttered as he kissed your breast, making you moan and grip his hair.

"Aegon," you moaned. He moved back to your face as he grabbed your legs.

You parted your legs from him to moved in between. He kissed down to your pulse, "You're mine," he said quietly.

Your head fell back into his pillows as he slid two fingers up your wet slit without a warning. "Gods, Aegon," you moaned, "Please."

"What do you want for me to do, my little princess," he teased as he kissed you throat while you pushed your hips down to his fingers.

You moaned with frustration, "Just fuck me."

"Mmm," he hummed, "Your wish is my command."

You felt him slipping his fingers out, and before you could catch your breath, you felt the tip of his cock slipping into your entrance.

Aegon groaned, his eyes rolling back as he felt your wet heat against the tip of his cock. He pushed himself into you, white hot pleasure erupting in his belly as he felt your walls clenching around him. You whimpered at the stretch of his cock and Aegon stroked your hair to sooth you, "My Princess. You're taking me so well."

You moaned while he groaned as he pulled out. Your legs wrapped around his middle tighter and Aegon took that as a mean that you're ready for more, not wasting a second before starting to thrust into you.

The both of you moaned at the feeling and Aegon quickly pressed his lips into yours again. He started to move, hips snapping faster into yours. The more you moaned, the faster he moved.

"Aegon, I--" you moaned, not been able to finish your words.

"I'm getting close too," he grunted out, panting heavily as he pounded you into his mattress, grunting loudly as his seed spilled deep inside your cunt. 

You both moaned as you finished. Aegon didn't pull out of you, he pressed himself into you more, deeper. You panted and brushed your fingers on his messy hair.

A moment of silent passed and Aegon finally pulled out from you. He rolled on his back to lay next to you, panting. You turned on your side to look at him and saw satisfaction in his eyes.

You hesitated to ask now what, but when Aegon reached to his blankets and simply covered the two of you. He pulled you to his chest, your back pressed to his front.

You chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer. "I didn't know you were a cuddler, my Prince."

"Only with you," he muttered and pressed a tender kiss on your shoulder.

You tilted your head to look at him and smiled a soft smile before whispering, "What would happen now?"

Aegon looked at you, and smirked, "Now... we rest before the second round."

You rolled your eyes but smiled with amusement as you playfully hit his chest, "Not that. I meant what we'll do from now on?"

Aegon rolled the two of you so you were on the sheets and he was on top of you. He placed his hand on your jaw, "As from now on..." He leaned down and kissed your throat, making you close your eyes with pleaser. "You are mine."

He trailed his kisses up and down your throat and then up to kiss your lips before pulling away slightly to look into your eyes. "You are all mine." You trailed your finger down his cheek, the touch made his close his eyes. "My safe heaven."

Taglist:

@lawlerek, @thenovelcarnival, @mynameisbaby9, @carriellie, @parizparis, @xcharlottemikaelsonx, @daddysfavoritesexkitten, @uselessbutinteresting, @hc-geralt-23, @babyblue-chaos, @azaleapotterblack, @hydrationqueensworld, @firefirevampire, @burningshewolf

[masterfvck]

Crown

Minnie/Yuqi

Theme: Royalty

Content warnings: swearing, smut, mentions of domestic abuse.

Smut content warnings: G!P(Yuqi), loss of virginity, praise, love confession during sex.

Idols: Minnie and Yuqi from (G)I-DLE. There will be other idols as minor characters.

(cross posted on Wattpad(Ocanericard))

--

Being a royal sounds great. It sounds like a dream.

Imagining it: you're rich, you have total control and power over everyone, you can basically do anything you desire.

Well, that isn't the case with everyone.

Princess Nicha Yontararak, otherwise known as Minnie, or Miss Nicha.

Her parents, well... They aren't the best, let's say.

She has two older brothers, but she doesn't speak much to them personally. Her future was all planned out already: become the queen of the country. The Queen of Thailand.

But that wasn't what she wanted, deep inside. She always wanted to be a musician, a singer. She thought the commoner life looked way more interesting.

It was probably selfish of her to think that way, but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to be royalty.

The only three things she liked about being royalty were simple.

1: She was rich. Obviously, who wouldn't love that?

2: The way the commoner children interact with her are absolutely adorable. She loves children, and definitely wanted one as an adult.

3: That one cute knight she sneaks little letters to.

Yes, there was indeed a knight who she was flirting with through little letters.

They had never directly spoken to each other yet, but she planned on making sure it happens soon.

She wanted to get to know her more.

Yes, her.

It became legal to have female knights now, contrary to a few years ago.

She is 25, and it had been established when she was 12 years old.

So, right now, it was the reason the letter she sneaked her, that little yellow envelope.

That's why it read: "meet me in the garden tonight, at midnight. I will be waiting for you. -Minnie ❤️"

She smiled at the way the knight blushed slightly, putting her helmet back on to hide it.

-

And now, she waited for her, sitting in the green grass of the castle's garden, looking at the starry night sky.

The guards weren't very smart, so they don't guard the garden at night.

She hears footsteps, cautious and slow ones.

She turns her head back and sees the knight.

And much to her surprise, she isn't wearing her armor.

The knight freezes for a second, but walks to sit besides Minnie.

"You came," Minnie says.

"Well, yes... Obviously. How could I refuse?" She speaks, for the first time to her.

Her voice is deep.

In a really hot way, actually.

Minnie smiles, then looks away.

"I like your voice. What's your name?"

"I am Song Yuqi, I come from China. It's an honor to be speaking to you in person, your Royal Highness," Yuqi introduced herself, bowing at the end.

Minnie laughed, waving her off. "Please, speak to me casually. All this formality is gonna make me throw up, ew," she reassured, and Yuqi looks shocked.

"I- B-But-"

"Don't stress it, Yuqi. I assure you, be casual with me when we're alone like this. No one else besides us are here," Minnie insists, and Yuqi closes her mouth and nods.

"Okay then, Minnie. Uhm... What did you call me here for?" Yuqi questions, and Minnie looks back in her eyes, which made Yuqi gulp.

"Let's be friends. I want to get to know you better."

Yuqi's eyes widened, and she struggled to find her words.

"I- Uh, well- Are we- Are we allowed to... Be friends?" She asks, and Minnie rolls her eyes and scoffs.

"Who cares? I'm allergic to the rules. They don't matter to me." She sticks her tongue out like she tasted something terrible.

Yuqi starts questioning her whole life at that moment.

What??

"Should we go back to my room? There will be less chances of a guard walking in on us talking like this," Minnie suggested, and Yuqi starts feeling dizzy at this point.

The princess? Inviting her?? To her room???

Is this a dream?!

"Of course. Please lead the way," Yuqi stands up, holding out her hand to help Minnie up.

Minnie smirks as she takes her hand, and Yuqi feels tingly as they make contact.

"Such a gentleman," she teased, and Yuqi blushed slightly.

They sneakily walked to her room, having to hide in a certain spot a few times to hide from the guards nearby.

They finally managed, after a few minutes, to get to the door that led to the inside of her room.

Minnie runs to her bed and flops on it immediately.

She sits up and pays a spot next to her, signalling Yuqi to come sit besides her.

She hesitated a bit, but she followed her silent instructions.

"So, Yuqi. Tell me about yourself," Minnie demands, and Yuqi nods.

"Hmm. Well, I came here to Thailand to become a Knight, because I heard that they actually get paid unlike back in China, and that the pay is pretty good. I trained for multiple years and became a knight in China at 17, then moved to Thailand last year and started as a knight a month after my arrival. I am now 23 years old. I can play the guitar, and someone once told me I am like a puppy."

"I have a guitar! Let me get it!" Minnie exclaims, rushing to her closet and pulling out a guitar.

"Play something for me." Minnie hands her the guitar, and Yuqi starts by checking if it's well accorded.

When she made sure it was, her hands started moving on their own, creating a tune.

It was one Minnie knew well.

As her fingers gently strummed the strings, Minnie could only watch in amazement.

She started humming the lyrics of the song, which made Yuqi open her closed eyes to look at her.

Her voice was gorgeous.

It was nothing like any other voice she's ever heard before.

It was soothing.

She felt herself getting hugged by the melody.

She could almost fall asleep right now.

.

The song ends, and they look at each other.

"You play guitar really well-"

"Your singing voice is really beautiful-"

They look into each other's eyes.

And then they burst out laughing.

-

For the past three months, they've been spending a lot of time together.

Yuqi has been coming to her room almost everyday, and they talked about everything and nothing.

Along with that, they had fallen for each other.

With all the things they said, they learned to appreciate each other. To love their qualities, to love their flaws, and to love who they are as a person.

They haven't noticed it at all.

(Oblivious losers...)

This time, Yuqi walked in on something different.

Minnie was only in a sports bra.

And she didn't even seem to mind.

"Oh, hi! Come on in, quick." Minnie hurried, speed walking to her and closing the door.

"I was wondering when you'd get here," Minnie laughed, dragging her to sit on her bed again.

Yuqi was flustered. Very, at that. Her face was like a tomato.

"Uh- Why are you not wearing a shirt?" Yuqi asks quietly, clearing her throat with a loud ahem.

Minnie raises an eyebrow. "Hm? I didn't feel like wearing one. I'm comfortable in this. Plus, doesn't this make my chest stand out more?" She teases, moving angles and wiggling her eyebrows, to which Yuqi squealed and playfully punched her arm.

"Don't! Do that!" Yuqi whined, and Minnie simply laughed and teased her further.

"Why? Too hot for you to handle?" She smirks, and Yuqi stops functioning.

Yes, she wants to say. But she doesn't, she keeps silent.

Minnie expects another whine, or a scolding, but she only gets silence from Yuqi.

Which she found a bit strange.

"Hey, Yuqi. Are you alri-"

"You have a really nice chest."

It came out before she could hold it back. And she instantly regretted it afterwards.

"I-I mean!! Uhh..." Yuqi stuttered, trying to find the right words.

Minnie simply shushed her by placing her index on her lips.

"Hey, don't worry. I liked the compliment! Like, thanks! You have nice tits too, I'm sure!" She laughs, taking her finger off her lips.

Yuqi looks down.

"No, uh- Minnie, I- I, uh-" she sighs, biting her lip.

Minnie tilts her head, humming.

"Minnie, I have an erection." She finally admitted it, and Minnie was slightly taken aback and surprised by the statement.

"Sorry if it freaks you out! I can go if you want me to-"

"Do you want me to help?"

They stay silent, staring into each other's eyes.

Yuqi gulps again.

"I- I don't have much experience, but I can... I can try," Minnie suggested, and Yuqi thinks about it.

She didn't have any experience either. Hell, she could barely jerk off properly. She did once every like, three months or something. It wasn't often.

"I- Your don't have to if you don't want to," Yuqi reassured, not wanting to make her do anything she doesn't want to.

"But I want to," Minnie looked at her with practically pleading eyes, shining in enticipation.

Yuqi widened her eyes again, and she looked down again.

"I guess, if... If you really want to, then that's fine."

"But do you want to?"

Yuqi looks back at her, face redder than ever.

"Really bad, actually," she confessed, and unconsciously, the two started slowly leaning in.

Looking at each other's lips only.

And they held each other for support as their lips made contact and their eyes closed.

Their lips started moving on their own. They fit almost like two perfect puzzle pieces. Made for each other.

Minnie's hand reached to Yuqi's pants' waistband, tugging on it. Yuqi helped her take them off, leaving only her boxers.

They pulled away after a while, looking at each other again.

"How many inches are you?"

"Uhm... About, maybe, 7.4 inches," Yuqi declares, and Minnie yelps a bit. "Is that too much for you to handle? Not big enough?"

"No, no, it's fine... Nothing I can't handle," Minnie mutters, and immediately pulls her boxers down, revealing Yuqi's not even 7, but 8 inches.

"That's not 7 inches at all! You liar!" Minnie exclaimed, and Yuqi looked at her dumbfounded.

She muttered a quiet apology as Minnie started pulling her own pants and underwear down.

"W-Wait, shouldn't I like- finger you first? Prep you up?" Yuqi suggested cautiously, and Minnie nods.

Yuqi brings her hand closer, then slides a finger in between the folds of Minnie's pussy.

She's surprised at how wet it was already.

Minnie shuddered at the feeling, looking at Yuqi's fingers slowly rubbing and teasing her.

After a minute of teasing, Yuqi slid one finger in, which made Minnie let out a quiet moan, her hands gripping the sheets.

Her finger slowly sinked all the way in, and after a few seconds of not moving it, she slowly started pumping it in and out of her.

As she moved her finger, Minnie released soft sighs and moans.

"Can I add another?" Yuqi asks after a minute or two of moving her finger, and Minnie nods.

"Please," Minnie sighs, her voice quieting a bit.

Yuqi does so, slipping another finger and watching Minnie arch her back and cover her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut tightly and practically shaking.

Yuqi watches Minnie, being in such a vulnerable state, all from her hands.

It's crazy how much power her hands actually hold.

"Do you want to cum like this, or should I make you wait a bit until I get inside you?" Yuqi asks near her ear.

"Mmh- Wanna cum, please, like this," she begs, and Yuqi swears it's a better melody than any of the songs she played for her.

Yuqi kept going, curling her fingers at the greatest spots, watching as Minnie shuddered, moaned, how her hips bucked under her.

"Ah- Yuqi- Fuck!" She cursed. And she cursed before, of course she did, but it was different in this context.

She cursed, but she felt more like she was being blessed than cursed.

It felt amazing- she wondered if her fingers felt this good, how she would feel when Yuqi's erection would be inside her.

With one last pump of her fingers, Minnie's walls clenched around her as she climaxed. The knot shattered, at last.

And Yuqi simply admired her; her face was flushed a scarlet red, her lips were parted ever so slightly, her chest heaved up and down, her eyebrows fere furrowed and her eyes were closed softly. She looked beautiful, truly. Even more than that, she could not find the words to describe the beauty she held.

She must have been God's favorite, if he made her look so drop-dead gorgeous.

She watched as Minnie rode down her orgasm, keeping her fingers still as Minnie panted heavily.

Yuqi was thankful for her being louder than her, because she was a bit embarrassed by her voice sometimes. She had been picked on as a child for it, so she always felt a little shy about it.

As her fingers left her, Minnie opened her eyes and looked into Yuqi's.

Yuqi shuddered, biting her lip.

"I- Uh, I think I'm ready now," she whispered.

"You think? Are you really sure?" Yuqi worried slightly. It was all she did: worry. She worried a lot for people, because not many had been by her side and she didn't want to loose them in any way.

Minnie nods, pulling Yuqi closer to her desperately. "Please, I don't- I don't want to wait any longer. I want it, Yuqi," she begs, and Yuqi smiles at her.

"Okay, I- I'll give you what you want." She then remembered something, one that she should have thought of before.

"Condoms. We- Do you have condoms?" Yuqi asks, a bit rushed. Minnie furrows her brow a, then shakes her head.

"You can just pull out," Minnie suggested, trying to get her to fuck her already, as she was getting quite impatient.

But Yuqi was worried. As she always was. "I- I don't know how good my pull out game is... But, for you, I can try..." she whispered, then slowly aligned herself near Minnie's entrance.

The tip brushed against it, and Minnie shivered and bit her lip.

Yuqi slowly and carefully inserts herself in, and moans at the feeling. "Ah- God, I can already feel how tight you are, you're clenching around me so much."

She lets Minnie get used to the thickness for a moment before going in further, making Minnie moan a bit.

It was a bit more than halfway through, and Minnie already felt a bit full. And she wasn't even completely inside yet.

There was about an inch left, and Minnie was a mess. "Just- Just slam the rest in me, fast," Minnie sighs.

"Are... Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you," Yuqi asked worriedly, and Minnie rolled her eyes.

"Yes! I am so sure, if you don't I'm move myself," she groaned, and Yuqi nodded.

She then abruptly bucked her hips, and her length completely buried itself in her warmth. Minnie moaned quite loudly, arching her back further.

"Oh my god," she groaned, and Yuqi watched her, once again. She watched her as she slowly started moving little thrusts, listening to her soft moans and sighs.

And again, Minnie's voice overpowered Yuqi's. Yuqi also let out small moans and whimpers, with the feeling of Minnie clenching around her cock.

"Fuck, fuck Yuqi- Y- ah!" Minnie cut herself off with a moan, as Yuqi's dick hit her G-Spot. "Fuck! Right there- God," she grips onto her back, her nails scratching her back. But Yuqi endured the pain and kept going, speeding her movements a little bit and hitting Minnie's G-Spot repeatedly, watching her as she did so.

"Fuck- Yuqi- I'm so close, please don't sto- ah!" Minnie blabbered, and Yuqi obeyed, even speeding up her thrusts a bit more, which got Minnie even closer, and Yuqi as well.

"I- Yuqi, I- I'm c- ah!" With a last moan, Minnie came all over Yuqi's cock, her thighs shaking.

"I'm- ah- I'm gonna-

Fuck-

Minnie,

I- love you-"

She muttered before barely pulling out and releasing on Minnie's abdomen and chest.

They both took time to catch their breaths, Yuqi flopping down besides Minnie.

"You love me?" Minnie grinned, and Yuqi looked away in embarrassment.

"Don't be shy, baby~ Truth is, I do too." Yuqi moved to look at her, and was met with Minnie looking at her with sweet, sweet eyes.

And she smiled.

They didn't say anything else. Just buried themselves in each other's arms and stayed there until they fell asleep.

(Sneaking Yuqi out of the room was difficult.)

-

It had been 2 weeks since they started secretly dating.

Yuqi came to her room everyday, like usual.

And this time, it was different.

Minnie was crying, sobbing her heart out.

Yuqi rushed to her, holding her softly.

"Minnie! What happened? Are you okay?" She asked, full of worry. Minnie curled into a ball and laid on Yuqi's lap.

"I- Fuck- No... It hurts-" Her voice croaked, and Yuqi's heart broke a little at the words. "What hurts, sweetheart?"

"My dad- he-" Minnie couldn't finish her sentence, she broke out into heavy sobs again. Yuqi widened her eyes in rage. She couldn't do much against him. He was the king, after all.

She let Minnie calm down a bit, rubbing circles on her back soothingly as she sobbed on her lap.

As Minnie started to calm down a bit, she sits up besides Yuqi, revealing her tear-stained face, which was all red. Yuqi reached up to wipe her tears with her thumb, kissing the bridge of her nose.

"There, there. Can you tell me what happened?" Yuqi asks softly, holding her gently and Minnie nodded.

"My dad... I, uh. I talked back to him when he told me to get... A husband. I told him I didn't want to, that I would prefer even a wife. And then he... He- fuck, Yuqi, he slapped me and... He- Her started hitting me."

Yuqi grinded her teeth, and Minnie removed her hands for a second to take her shirt off.

It revealed several bruises and some cuts, all fresh and new. Yuqi widened her eyes again, and clenched her fists.

"That asshole," Yuqi muttered through her grinded teeth, and Minnie sighed.

She looked her, dead in the eyes, and she said:

"Let's run away together, Yuqi."

And Yuqi didn't even hesitate to accept.

-

The plan was pretty simple: Pack some stuff, run away to China, then get a flight to Canada and get their Canadian citizenship.

They would be moving to Toronto, and they would finally live a normal life.

But their plan was interrupted when they encountered another knight.

One that Yuqi knew very well.

"Yuqi? Y-You Royal Highness..?" He stuttered when he saw the two, taken aback by seeing the two together.

"Shit- Uhm, hiiii! Yukhei, my bro... What are you doing here?!" Yuqi whisper yelled nervously, hiding Minnie behind her as best as she could.

Yukhei raised an eyebrow, his face morphing into a confused look.

"Uh... I was going out for a walk... What are you doing with the princess?" He murmured, looking around to see if any other knights were there.

"Well-"

"We're running away. Please do not tell my parents you saw us, Yukhei," Minnie cut Yuqi off, and the latter flinched.

Yukhei looked stunned, but soon straightened his posture and bowed to them.

"I see. Then, I wish you good luck on your travel, and plenty of safety. Farewell, Yuqi, and your Royal Highness. I will miss your company," he said, and smiled brightly at them.

They both smiled back warmly, and bowed back to him.

"Thank you, I wish you a good life, Yukhei. Farewell, I hope we will meet again," Yuqi spoke, and they turned back and walked away.

"So, are you gonna tell on them?" Chittaphon asked, and Lucas chuckled.

"Of course not. Yuqi's my best friend. She's like my little brother. I couldn't betray her like that. And the Princess as well. Would you?" Yukhei replied, and the other boy shook his head.

"Nahh, the King's an asshole anyways. Couldn't be bothered to," he whistled, walking back to the castle and Yukhei followed him, laughing wholeheartedly in agreement.

"Don't say that out loud, you idiot!" He warned, and Chittaphon raised his hands up in a mocked surrender gesture.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dad!" He grinned, and they went to guard the garden.

Because no one else ever did.

-

Timeskip: 5 years later.

"Uh, hey, Honey?" Minnie called out as she peeked out of the bathroom, met with a star-eyed Yuqi.

"So? Is it positive?" She asked in enticipation, and Minnie smiled.

She nodded, holding back her tears.

"It is. We're having a child, Yuqi," she announced, and Yuqi ran to hug her wife tightly.

They both celebrated that night with a glass of orange juice for Minnie, and some champagne for Yuqi(which Minnie was very jealous of, so they ended up both having orange juice.)

-

"Twins?! Are you fucking me right now?" She exclaimed when she saw the ultrasound, and Yuqi laughed.

"No, but I did some months ago-"

"Yuqi!!" Minnie groaned, and their doctor, Kim Jiwoo(also known as Chuu,) laughed at the joke.

Minnie pouted and Yuqi approached closer to her belly, grinning widely.

"Hey you guys~ I hope you don't end up as sassy as your mama..." She mutters the last part, but Minnie heard her very well, and slapped the back of her head.

"Ow!!" "Keep in mind this is your fault!"

"You're the one who wanted a baby!"

"You still came inside!! I didn't expect to have twins, you know? There's supposed to be ONE winner in the sperm race!"

"I don't control my cum, Minnie!"

-

Yuqi looked at her first daughter's eyes.

They were barely open for the moment being. But she could tell, they were beautiful.

She smiled warmly at her, holding her hand out.

And her daughter grabbed her pinky gently with her two hands.

Yuqi's heart warmed at the sight, and her eyes watered.

"Welcome to the world, Ning."

Minnie held her first son in her arms.

He had stopped crying, at last.

And she looked at him.

She couldn't yet say what he looked like exactly, since he was just born.

But she knew he was going to be beautiful.

"Welcome to your life, Pasidh."

-

"Suck it up, Ning! You'll never be as fast as me!" Pasidh laughed, running

"Shut up! I'm gonna catch up to you somehow, just you wait, Bambi!" She shouted back, increasing her running speed.

Minnie and Yuqi watched as the two kids played together, smiling adoringly.

"It's Prince! Not Bambi!!" He screeched back, and Ning rolled her eyes.

Soon enough, they were both out of breath and laid down on the grass near their parents, breathing heavily.

"Hey, mama? Mommy?" Ning asked, and they looked at her.

"Can I invite Aeri and Minjeong over? Jimin's out for a trip to Italy," she looked at them with puppy eyes, and they laughed.

"Of course! Did you ask if they could come?" Minnie asked her, and the girl nodded.

"Hey! I wanna invite a friend over too!" Pasidh exclaimed, sitting up abruptly.

"Can I invite Woojin and Junseong over? Pleaaase?" He put his hands together and Yuqi raised her thumb up at him.

"Yeah! I can get more controllers from the basement for your Nintendo if you want," she said, and he jumped happily.

Minnie leaned her head on Yuqi's shoulder, and Yuqi did the same as they watched their kids run inside their house to call up their friends, saying they can come over.

Ah, childhood... The best stage of your life. It's something you miss as you grow older.

And watching it makes you feel warm inside.

Especially knowing that you were the one who caused those moments of happiness.

It makes you feel happy. Grateful.

...

And they lived happily ever after, probably.

---

A/N: this took me so long to write. It has like 4K words. I did not need to go all out for that but guess what? I DID ANYWAYS ☺️ hope you enjoyed this kinda rushed thing. Have a good day/night, eat well, drink well and stay safe ❤️

[apomaro-mellow]

Part 1

After getting the decree from the queen, Jonathan went right into the center of the square to make the announcement. The queen wanted as many people in attendance, all the better for finding a spouse for her son.

"The prince is having a ball", Jonathan said, getting everyone's attention. "His Royal Highness Stefano William, son of Her Majesty Queen Genevieva Ambre Angelique Anneliese Delta-"

"Delta?", a voice in the crowd called out in confusion.

"Delta", Jonathan continued without a beat, "Galatea....is having a ball!"

That was all anybody needed to go into a frenzy. In the crowd was Murray, who was immediately scheming. A prince on the prowl for a royal companion could be very advantageous indeed.

Meanwhile, Jonathan was on the move, going to florists, bakers, butchers, and tailors to begin setting up for the ball. Obviously any royal affair had to be big and loud but finding a suitor for the prince was even more reason to go big.

News of the ball reached far and wide and even Eddie heard of it. While he typically didn't give a rat's ass about royalty, even he wasn't immune to the implied romance of possibly meeting the love of your life at what was basically a lavish dance party.

Any excitement he would've had was instantly squashed when his family decided a ball meant they had to do extravagant shopping and use him like a beast of burden. The lack of consideration was so much that even when they got home, they expected him to open the door even with his arms full.

Sure. Yeah. Of course. Not a tall order at all.

The moment he opened it and tried to get inside, Tommy practically ran into him like a bull trying to get in first, nearly making everything fall from Eddie's hands.

"Edgar your lack of grace is staggering", Murray commented.

Eddie kept from muttering under his breath. No need to put anymore attention on himself. Turned out he didn't need to. Murray gave a put-upon sigh and went into his old spiel without Eddie saying a word.

"To think, people told me to throw you out. But I didn't! No, my saintly soul wouldn't allow it." Murray fiddled with Jason's hair until it was how he liked it. "Even though I already had two stallions in my home-don't slouch Thomas-I let the lame horse continue to live in my abode."

"You're almost a martyr, father", Jason kissed ass like there was no tomorrow.

Murray put a hand to his heart. "I know. Edgar, prepare us some tea and bring it to our rooms. Boys, we need our beauty rest if we're going to be ready for the ball. Come along now."

Tommy and Jason followed diligently as Murray went up the stairs. Eddie watched them go, holding his tongue until they were out of ear shot, but he only needed to wait until their backs were turned to flip them off.

Then he turned on his own heel to start making their tea. They'd probably be asleep before he finished making it but if they weren't and he wasn't it'd be hell.

"Who needs a ball anyway, I'll give em some balls", he muttered to himself as he got a kettle going. They could go off for their one night of splendor and entertainment. Eddie could get all that right here in the kitchen. His own little corner of paradise.

As the tea was being brewed, Eddie turned, making his hair flourish around his head.

"Your Highness, how do you do?" He gave a deep bow to the broom. "Lovely evening isn't it?"

Eddie had never laid eyes on the prince. But someone who had the whole kingdom fawning over him couldn't just be riding the royal title. He was probably as handsome and as charming as the rumors said. Eddie tried to imagine someone like that and to his surprise, he came up with the guy he met earlier.

He certainly had a cordial air about him. And handsome, there was no doubt about that. What had his name been again?

"Me? A dance?" Eddie pretended the stranger had just extended his hand. He was dressed to the nines, probably in blue or green, those colors suited him. And he wanted to dance with Eddie.

"Oh I couldn't. But if you insist~"

Eddie started to sway with the broom, thinking of what it would feel like to have arms around him. To have someone look at his mess of a hair and call him beautiful. To kiss his hands, raw from work, with love. To want him, to actually want him, from now until-

"Where's that tea!", Tommy's shrill voice barked from upstairs.

Well, that was it for play time pretend. Eddie poured three cups and balanced them all pretty masterfully if he did say so himself. They could keep their balls and temporary delights. Eddie had a world of wonder in his head to keep him content.

Part 3

[carewyncromwell]

McGonagall 🤝 Carewyn

in memory of Maggie Smith...rest in peace, sweet queen

The Battle of Hogwarts was hard-fought. With how many casualties there had been and how much the school had been damaged, it was inevitable that it would take a very long time before things would be as they once were. If nothing else, those poor students who had had to start at Hogwarts the year the Death Eaters took over would have to pretty much start all over again from the Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies perspective, since everything they'd learned from the Carrows was both completely useless and incorrect. And that wasn't even touching just how hard it would be for the student body to find contentment and peace again after such a traumatic school year.

Hogwarts needed strong leadership, if it hoped to get through such a difficult time. Fortunately the school was in very good hands, with Minerva McGonagall as its Headmistress. There was truly no one better to take charge in Carewyn Cromwell's mind that her old Deputy Headmistress.

"Phoenix ashes," Carewyn stated the password that she'd received in her most recent letter.

At once the gargoyle moved aside, allowing her access to the Headmistress's Office. As she climbed the stairs, the Ministry's star lawyer caught the sound of two familiar voices.

"...word to Kingsley on the matter?" asked a very dreamy, serene male voice.

"I daresay our new Minister will have more than enough on his plate at present," said a much crisper, sterner female voice, before she exhaled. "But yes, I suppose I will have to. It's hardly a wonder last NEWT season was so disheveled: some retesting will be inevitable, under the circumstances..."

As Carewyn reached the landing, she found tall, austere Minerva McGonagall standing at the far back left of the office, speaking to the portrait of her old friend and mentor, Albus Dumbledore. The Headmistress had her graying dark hair tied back in a very tight bun as always, and she was dressed in high-necked black and red tartan robes. She had her back to Carewyn when she entered, which meant that Dumbledore's portrait caught sight of the red-haired Slytherin alumnus first.

"Hello, Carewyn," he said with a bright twinkle in his painted eyes.

Carewyn's red lips came together tightly. It was the first time she'd seen Dumbledore's portrait in the office. The last time she'd seen the man himself was nearly a year prior to his death -- hell, even the last letter she'd received from him had come through a good two years ago now.

"...Hello, Professor," she said stiffly.

She turned to McGonagall and her expression relaxed, seeing the small smile touching the older woman's features.

"Hello, Miss Cromwell."

"It's been a while, Professor."

"Indeed it has," said McGonagall. "I believe this is the first time we’ve spoken since I visited your flat at the start of the War…"

Carewyn nodded. She glanced around the Headmistress's office — it hadn’t changed that dramatically since she’d been there last, but there were a few things that felt off. Obviously the portrait of Dumbledore was new; there were a few magical instruments that had been replaced on the many shelves. The thing that caught Carewyn's eye, however, was the empty roost which years before had hosted Dumbledore’s familiar, Fawkes the phoenix.

McGonagall followed Carewyn's gaze, and her expression grew a bit more solemn.

"Fawkes left Hogwarts the night Albus died," she said, her eyes flitting back to Dumbledore's portrait as he swept out of it and out of sight. "Neither I nor anyone else I know of has seen him since."

Carewyn bowed her head. "I daresay with how loyal he was to Dumbledore, Fawkes will mourn him longer than anyone else."

McGonagall sighed. "Yes..."

Her eyes behind her glasses appeared misty and dark — Carewyn could sense a wave of nostalgia coming off of her, as well as a Dumbledore-shaped shadow sweeping silently around the office they now occupied. Even so, as she crossed the room back over to her desk, the Headmistress walked with purpose and pride in her shoulders.

"I lament you were unable to pay your respects, after what happened," said McGonagall, "but I suppose the role you played for the Order would have been compromised by your attendance?"

Carewyn frowned uncomfortably as she looked away.

"My Legilimency has…made it more difficult for me to be in tight proximity with lots of people. And people in mourning, especially people I knew…it would've been a struggle to act detached from Bill and the others, in the midst of that. With Umbridge and Scrimgeour in attendance as potential witnesses, I couldn't risk that loss of composure, if I wanted them to think I wasn't aligned with the Order."

Her blue eyes darkened.

"…Even coming to Hogwarts, after the Battle…even when separated from everyone by walls, the emotions were so loud and painful that I could barely stand."

McGonagall’s face gained a bit more compassion. "I see…"

The Headmistress indicated the chair on the other side of her desk. Carewyn accepted the mute offer and sat down.

"Would you like some tea?" asked McGonagall.

"That'd be lovely, thank you."

The Headmistress waved her wand. In a moment, a teapot had bounced off of a nearby table with a newly formed pair of legs and up onto the desk, little splashes of tea spilling out the top as it went. Not far behind it came two teacups, also bounding up onto the desk in front of Carewyn and McGonagall, respectively. McGonagall let the teapot pour its own contents into their cups as she flipped open a lid on a box to reveal a batch of Ginger Newts, which she placed down between them so Carewyn could reach them.

"I did visit his tomb on my way in today, though," said Carewyn. She picked up her newly full cup with a quickly murmured "thank you" to the enchanted teapot. "Mum asked me to drop off some flowers, for her."

"Albus would've appreciated that," said McGonagall. "He always spoke fondly of Lane…and of you and Jacob, as well. He does as well," she added, indicating the empty frame of Dumbledore's portrait with a nod of her head.

Carewyn eyed the empty frame too, but more beadily. However fond he may have been of them, Dumbledore had still expelled Jacob in a misguided attempt to protect Hogwarts from R, and that was something that even now Carewyn couldn'’'t forgive.

“How is Jacob?” asked McGonagall more solemnly. "I know he suffered his fair share of loss in the final Battle."

"He's doing as well as he can,” Carewyn said, grateful for the caring. "As we all are, after everyone we've lost in this War…"

The faces of Tonks, Lupin, Amelia Bones, Mad-Eye Moody, Fred, and Dobby ran over her memory as she glanced around the office again, her eyes lingering on the many portraits hung up on the walls.

For a brief moment, Carewyn had wondered if there would’ve been another portrait added of the Headmaster who had taken charge of Hogwarts for most of the last term — but, she reminded herself, someone would likely have to actively choose to put a portrait of him in the office for him to be there. And she had trouble thinking of anyone who'd want to hang a portrait of Severus Snape on Hogwarts grounds, after everything…

McGonagall’s own expression had become rather sad as she folded her hands on her desk.

"I daresay it will be a long time before we fully heal from all the pain we have suffered. Before our whole World heals..."

Her face then grew more serious again.

"...Fortunately, from what I understand, we've started on the proper path towards that. Is it true you've accepted the role of Chief Prosecutor, for the Ministry's upcoming trials?"

Carewyn nodded. "Minister Shacklebolt offered the role to me this last Tuesday. There's still a lot of work to do before we start, but all of the suspects the Ministry seeks to try are already in custody, so at least we don't have to worry about them causing any further damage. All we have to do now is prove the extent of their crimes..." Her eyes hardened. "...And I intend to make sure they all face justice — every last one of them.”

"I have no doubt of that, Miss Cromwell." Something proud seemed to flicker across McGonagall’s features. "If there's one thing Barty Crouch did not have while pursuing justice against Voldemort's supporters, it was a strong moral compass…and that is something you've never lacked."

Carewyn wasn’t able to fight back the flinch at the Dark Lord’s name; even now that he was dead, he remained her greatest fear, and the habit of not using his name was hard to break. Even so, she smiled slightly.

"…I appreciate the support, Professor. It'll take time to give everyone a thorough trial, but there are some who it'll be far easier to try and convict quickly. Those captured after the Battle of Hogwarts, primarily — I would say there is little to no defense anyone could offer for the likes of Alecto and Amycus Carrow."

McGonagall scoffed. "I doubt those savage simpletons would see any reason to excuse their behavior, as opposed to justify it."

Carewyn snorted in agreement. "The Malfoys, on the other hand, might require more deliberation…particularly Narcissa." She took a sip of tea. "...Then there are those suspects who will undoubtedly claim innocence and coercion, whether it's true or not — Dolores Umbridge, for instance."

McGonagall gave a louder scoff than ever.

"Oh yes, I'm quite sure she'll try," she said spitefully. "I do hope your case will be robust enough to contradict that?"

"Don't worry," said Carewyn with a cold smile, "I have a large file of evidence against Umbridge, and it should be more than enough to condemn her. If you want to submit your own testimony as to her sadistic character, though, I'd be happy to include it in my prosecution," she added with a larger smirk.

"You may expect it by tomorrow," McGonagall said very coolly.

"Much obliged," Carewyn said with a grin.

She put down her cup of tea so she could fetch a Ginger Newt from the open tin. She took a bite, chewing slowly as she considered her next words.

"...Professor...may I ask your opinion on something?"

McGonagall raised her eyebrows. "You may certainly ask it. Though I must confess, I'm pleasantly surprised to hear you openly asking for advice."

"I don't intend to make a habit of it," Carewyn said with a light huff. Glancing away, she then admitted a bit more seriously, "...It's just...you've had to look after a lot of children as if they were yours, even if they weren't. And well...I find myself in the position that I might have to, as well."

McGonagall peered at Carewyn over her tea with interest. "Oh?"

Carewyn smiled uncomfortably, her eyes averted as she rested her hand holding the Ginger Newt on the desk.

"...I...want to foster a child," she confessed.

McGonagall blinked in surprise.

"His name is Erik Apollo," Carewyn explained. "He's one of the children I'm representing before the Wizengamot, demanding compensation. He was orphaned, cursed, and rounded up by the Muggle-Born Registration Commission during the War -- he only just barely avoided getting chucked into Azkaban, after Umbridge's trumped-up trial of him. He's twelve years old, set to start at Hogwarts this September as a first year. His home was wrecked and he has no other family. He needs somewhere stable to live in the Wizarding World, while he attends school..."

"And you wish to provide him that?" presumed McGonagall.

Carewyn nodded very firmly. "I do."

"Hm..." McGonagall's face had warmed significantly. "...Well, Miss Cromwell, I think that is a truly noble and generous thing for you to do. I would be happy to give you any counsel you wish."

She then smiled a bit more wryly.

"And I sincerely hope your new ward gets up to less trouble than you or your brother got up to, when he arrives here this September."

Carewyn laughed.

Friendship Drabble Prompt!

[fumblingmusings]

Cardverse Week 2023

@aphcardverse-week

Day One: Royalty - Arranged marriage | Coronation | Tradition

Francis did not pick his new Queen, but watching her bear the weight of that heavy crown, he doesn't doubt Vash's judgement in this matter. Gen | No Romance | No Warnings Apply

The girl was small, fae like almost. She had daisies and sweet williams thread in a crown across the braid that spanned the top of her head. A white dress with cap sleeves and a yellow satin belt, tied neatly into a stiff bow at the back, reached her slim ankles, little pale yellow shoes poking out to reveal delicate feet. Francis could not quite see to confirm their colour, but her eyes stared doggedly at his knees, utterly respectable and reverent. According to her family, she was sweet, gentle, and good natured.

She was also practically a child.

Francis kissed Lili’s hand, then peered over at Vash. The girl’s brother, Jack of the Kingdom and the one who had reluctantly proposed the match, had a face like a thunderous storm. 

There was no law dictating that a King and Queen must love each other, nor even that they must marry. Indeed, of the four Kingdoms, Clubs’ King had deftly been set aside for the Jack by the Queen, whilst in Hearts, the King and Jack were as inseparable as any grand love affair told throughout the ages. Only Spades, odd tiny Spades, had the King and Queen in any sort of romantic entanglement. And that, from what Arthur had explained, had been designed from the men’s birth. Pushed together and forced to be in each other’s company until the only outcome was either virulent hatred or genuine love.

Sometimes Francis doubted Arthur was capable of feeling the latter... but it was not for him to judge.

Still. At least all of the Queens were quite safely several years into adulthood. Lili was young, but her brother’s unfortunate decision to ensure she was an utter ingenue, and completely unprepared for any complexity in court life, had left a foul taste in Francis’ mouth. If he did not know his Jack so well, the King would have assumed it was a way to ensure the Queen was totally dependent on her brother for guidance, unlikely to act independently and deny the traditional three point power structure that kept the monarchy in balance. 

Fortunately, the King did know his Jack. Lili had superseded all other choices for a reason. Blood was not one of them.

Lili smiled, said her thanks, then looked to Vash for guidance.

Uncomfortable as always, Vash’s eyes did soften when speaking to his sister. Softly, but still rather brusque - the Jack was not known for his empathetic nature - Vash urged her to stand straight, and to look her eventual husband in the eye.

In the grand mirrored hall, with half the court watching with a snide curiosity, the King searched for something to say. Something to find in common with the girl nearly ten years his junior.

“Tell me Lili,” he tried, “Do you play cards?”

Those soft blue eyes sparkled, little mouth popping open. She did not speak, but nodded enthusiastically.

“She plays a little,” Vash spoke for her. 

Lili tutted, finding her own voice. “If I may boast, I believe I am rather good at it.”

Francis resisted the urge to heave a sigh. It was a start. 

“Then let us go sit and talk over a game.”

*****

She was more than rather good, the King soon discovered. In fact, she was rather beastly at it.

It was hard not to treat her akin to a child. She was small, she was soft spoken, she did enjoy filling her chambers with soft toys, her favourite food was angel cake and there was nothing in her wardrobe which was not covered in flowers or glitter. 

But then and again she did odd little things. She had a knack for reading people which indeed did make her unbeatable in games such as poker. She revealed herself to be just as fiscally minded as her elder brother, albeit slightly less ruthless about it. 

Lili was also rather stubborn, when it came down to it. In the planning of her coronation, she could be softly fixated on certain aspects, yet delicate enough in her manner of speaking and presentation that denying her would be either preposterous or cruel.

There had been peace for many years, Francis was forever a snob who enjoyed the finer things in life, and Lili’s favourite colour was gold.

Not yellow. Gold.

Of course the expense was going to be astronomical. However, as Francis had discovered, that was why Vash was their Jack, and Lili was their Queen. 

The night before her coronation, Francis sat with her on the veranda in the gardens. Lilies filled oversized pots, merging with crawling ivy around pillars. 

“I think I should be honest with you about what to expect from our partnership,” he stated.

Lili drank delicately from her tea cup. Her eyes darted around the space, looking for her brother. There was no chaperone tonight, just Francis and his eventual Queen. 

The King endeavoured to keep his expression kind.

“I hope that I will always treat you with the respect that you deserve and are entitled to.”

Lili blinked owlishly.

“But… I will be brutal. This is not a love match. There will be no wedding. Ever.”

“No…”

“Do you wish otherwise?”

She inspected him quite closely. Then, she softly shook her head.

“Vash said perhaps, you would be content if you were to claim the title of brother. Not to supplant him, of course, but I thought perhaps that sort of love could flourish, if there will be no wedding.”

Relief flooded through Francis. “Big brother? I like that. Good. Then I hope you know that I will continue with my dalliances as I see fit. No-one will out rank you. No-one will command you. But we are King and Queen. Not husband and wife. Traditionally speaking.”

“Will I have the same courtesy?”

“Pardon?”

“May I love who I chose? Without your vetting first? I would like to build my own circle of companions. Ladies to wait on me, men to entertain and protect? Just as you have?”

Ah. She had caught him out there. Francis did not trust easily, and yet he was loathe to be called a hypocrite. Lord knows his lovers had not always had their king’s best interests at heart. Just as Francis did not expect them to. He was not naive.

The thought, however, of Lili being taken advantage of, was somewhat enraging.

Perhaps that was engineered by her and Vash, but Francis settled himself to expect that feeling going forward. Fine. He would be yet another watchful brother to spoil the Queen. That suited him quite well.

And yet, looking at those constant, measured, blue eyes, he knew she was not as frivolous as he. She was her brother’s sister after all. She would not choose her company lightly. 

“Would you prefer it if we went through our courts together?”

She mused the compromise, then nodded. “To vet them? Yes.”

“Then we shall do that.”

“Are you sad,” she asked, “to be tied to me and yet not in that way? You do not wish for someone you love? We will never marry so long as we rule, as you say, either to each other or someone we may truly love.”

He shrugged, long having come to term with such a quandary. “I will still love. As may you. May it be what it is. It is tradition by this point. Our people first, ourselves second. Let us serve them as only we can.”

Lili took another sip, expression inscrutable. Francis prodded, “Have I misjudged? Do you expect something of me I am not willing to give?”

She looked only slightly mournful. “No. Not from you personally, sir. Just the thought of a quieter life I mourn. I will recover.”

Francis stood, rested a gloved hand on Lili’s bare shoulder, then kissed her temple. She did not shudder, move away, or follow the touch. She sat perfectly still, accepting it for what it was. A comfort and a resignation.

“I think,” Francis said, “come tomorrow, such thoughts may be quite far from your mind.”

Her tiny hand came up, wrapped around his wrist, and squeezed. She was surprisingly strong.

“I hope I am worthy.”

*****

In a cathedral occupied by four thousand people, it was a surprisingly intimate affair. As was tradition, the monarch was blocked off by tapestries towards the end of the ceremony. Lili was on her knees whilst the Bishop read a passage quietly only to her. She made her oaths to their Gods, then rose up to her feet as the tapestries were pulled away. The King was standing close by, magnificent crown on his own head, the Queen's version in his hands. Vash stood on the left, sword in hand and pushed into the ground, point scraping the stone floor. Francis was staring very hard at the crown, with its gold and pearls and shining diamonds for which the Kingdom took its name. 

He was inspecting the Crown as if it would give him the answer to some terrible question he had been unable to answer. As if tilting in a certain light, seeing a certain gleam, would lay each and all of his troubles to rest.

Lili moved forward, slowly, the great weights of her yellow dress and cape trains adding gravitas to her movement. She lowered herself again, and Francis deftly placed the crown on her head. It had to be squished a little over her fluffy hair. It was heavy. She looked up at Francis, whose expression was unusually grave. When she tried to stand, she found the weight of her clothes and the solid gold lump on her head was now too much for her tiny body.

The King took her hands, giving her a solid weight to anchor herself to. She rose with a grateful smile. Quickly, so quickly that no-one would have noticed, Francis’ stern face cracked. His mouth twitched and he winked at her. 

“Heavy,” she whispered.

“Which is why we have each other,” he replied. 

Lili held on still with one hand, turning to face the congregation. Vash, for once, was smiling (though not enough to show his teeth, no, he had never been that happy) and joined the two on the high step. He cried out for the cheering to begin. The crowd did very well, the wall of sound almost being enough to push the Queen back a step. Bells rang out, jubilant and - if her ears were not lying to her - joined by the cheering of crowds outside. 

At the front were the nine royals from the other three nations. Spades, all in blue and indigo, Hearts, in red and violet, and Clubs, in green and black. Some, Francis noted with disdain, appeared more invested than others.

He took a mental note, then quietly stashed the thought away for another time.

For now, the King turned to his new young Queen, bowed, then began to lead her out the Cathedral. 

She was not necessarily the one he would have chosen for himself, but Francis knew his flaws. His judgement of people was not always… astute.

This little golden bird however, held her head high, even under the weight of a nation, and did not flinch as she stepped into the sun.

The Kingdom of Diamond’s had chosen their Queen quite well.

[canmom]

I was tagged by @baeddel and charged with the following questions:

Last song: Mephisto by Queen Bee. This is the ED for Oshi no Ko, and that is indeed the context I first encountered it. But I've kind of become obsessed with Queen Bee ever since I saw this video of Avu-chan:

There is definitely an element of "I want to learn to sing but I cannot sound like a cis women no matter what so I have to figure out some other sort of voice to aspire towards". Not that I could ever have Avu-chan's ridiculous range lol. But they are sort of the coolest person I've ever seen.

After that I learned that I'd been hearing Avu-chan a whole bunch. For example, Avu-chan voices Inu-oh! All the fantastic songs I enjoyed in that film...

And that's not even the first time Avu-chan worked with Masaaki Yuasa. You remember that amazing version of Devilman no Uta from Devilman Crybaby?

Yeah, guess who.

But that's just focusing on the anime link. Queen Bee is the shit. Like check out this duet between Avu-chan and Avu-chan:

Or King Bitch with all the martial arts. Or Inu-hime which manages to pack a whole gory jidaigeki story into a three and a half minute music video. I'm still working my way back through Queen Bee's videos.

Forgive me, this is way more than one song ^^'

Currently watching: Besides Animation Night tonight? ^^

I recently finished Tengoku Daimakyou - which was imo strong right up to the end, and there's a bunch to write about it. But this says 'currently' so...

I'm presently catching up on Oshi no Ko. (Hence the Queen Bee listening.) Which is the one where the gynecologist is reincarnated as the son of an idol alongside one of his patients; said idol gets murdered, and then as a highschool student our boy's attempting to solve her murder while getting caught up in all sorts of showbiz drama. I've written a bit about Oshi no Ko before; two eps further on, the story continues to have some delightful swerves and I'm fascinated to see where they're going with all this. I can see it steadily orbiting certain themes - falsehood, performance, self-identity and so on - but what the ultimate thrust will be, remains to be seen.

I ended up rewatching a few episodes with @footsteps-on-the-dance-floor a couple weeks ago. On the rewatch, I was struck by how, in this show about acting, just how much attention is indeed paid to the acting of the characters. Not so much flashy sakuga, just lots of carefully observed interactions that I came to appreciate a lot as I understood the characters better.

Currently reading: [whoops, forgot this one, editing it in] Ghost in the Shell for fiction. Shirow's manga is fascinating. In some ways you can see all the material that made it out into Production IG's various adaptations, but in some ways the tone is so different, way less dry, way more unabashedly nerdy, the characters much more emotional. I'm fascinated by all the little asides and margin notes by Shirow.

For non fiction, I've got this book called "Queer British Art 1861-1967" by the Tate that I'm steadily reading. It's fascinating, I didn't know shit about most of the people they write about in here.

Current obsession: What do I do that can't be characterised as an obsession really ^^'

But besides work, and writing long posts on here, and drawing pictures, I've been trying to learn music. I mentioned singing, but the other strand is trying to learn the zhonghu. So let me tell you about zhonghus.

This is a Chinese musical instrument, a close sibling of the erhu. Like a violin, it's a bowed instrument; unlike a violin, it's held upright on your lap, it has only two strings, and the bow is held in between them.

The bowstrings are very loose compared to a violin bow, and you use your fingers to press them against one or other string. There is no fingerboard, let alone frets, so pitch depends on how hard you press the strings as well as where your fingers are positioned. Not to mention a million other variables to do with your specific instrument.

The zhonghu and the erhu are almost the same instrument; the zhonghu is tuned slightly lower, similar to a viola compared to a violin. Also? The soundbox is covered by snakeskin, so if you import an erhu (or zhonghu) from China, you have to go to some effort to certify that the snake in question was from a farm and not a wild snake. And you have to be really careful that the bowstring doesn't catch on the scales.

Why am I learning the zhonghu? Well. That's a long story but the tl;dr is my friend suggested I should be a zhonghu player and I was like you know what sure. So now I have her old zhonghu.

I used to play the violin, but I think the way I learned the violin left a lot to be desired in terms of actually understanding music. I could translate sheet music into finger positions, and fulfill my role in an orchestra for kids, but I lost the thread at uni, where I tried to play with the ceilidh band and found I was completely at sea in a more improvisational setting. Add like a decade of rust on top of that.

So it's safe to say that right now I'm really fucking bad at playing the zhonghu. Nevertheless, I'm trying to persevere. In the month or so since I started, with very irregular practice, I've gone from 'can only make a horrible scratching sound' to 'can play an open string' to 'never hitting a note first try' to 'can mostly hit notes until I try to move my hand', so I'm inching forwards. It's a long way until I can make the kind of beautiful music that the erhu is known for, and I don't have any belief I'll ever be notably good at it, but there's nothing to be lost in trying to learn a new thing, even if it's one that is not coming naturally to me at all. Better to struggle than to go my whole life never picking up an instrument again you know.

Tagging - uhhh let's say - @mogsk @schizsune @sisyphication @catnumbers @argyrocratie @centrally-unplanned @hamiltonianflow @sapeami-scalps-whites [if you'd like, in each case!] The questions are 'last song', 'currently watching', 'currently reading', 'current obsession', answer in as much or little detail as you like

[blackjackkent]

The guardian's voice speaks at the entrance to the cave.

"Come. We will talk in private. Just the two of us."

"I'm not leaving my companions behind."

"Suit yourself," the distant voice says. "But only the leader of your group is coming in. I will not allow anyone else."

Hector sighs, glances over his shoulder at the others. Lae'zel's bearing in particular is taut, like an attack dog ready to leap, but she scowls and gives him a sharp, curt nod.

"If it must be so, it must be so. Do not fail me. Do not fail us."

---

The air of the Astral Plane is cool and still. It feels like the air before a storm, anticipatory, waiting for an explosion.

The guardian stands with her back to him, looking out at the infinite sea of stars.

"I may have made a mistake trusting you," she says. Even facing away from him, her voice is powerful, seeming to come from everywhere at once. "I told you to stay away from the githyanki. But you just couldn't help yourself, could you?" She turns to face him, shoulders square, unblinking. "And now you've come here to murder me."

I've come here because I had no choice, Hector thinks wearily. I have come here because you haven't been open with me, and so I did not know what to believe. "Vlaakith told me you are an agent of the illithid Grand Design," he says neutrally, watching her expression closely.

She smiles ruefully. "I told you I stole the artifact from someone. Well - I stole it from Vlaakith. Since then, she has become desperate. Vlaakith wants me dead because I know her secret. It is a secret so great that if her people ever found out, that would be the end of her rule, the end of *her.*" The smile fades, her expression going tight and serious. "That same secret is how I've been protecting you from the Absolute."

Her eyes narrow slightly. "I can hear your thoughts. You think I'm lying. Vlaakith warned you that I would try to deceive you. But consider this - what reason have I to deceive you? I want the same thing as you - freedom. I'm on your side. I have been since the very beginning."

She pauses, watching Hector for a moment, then slowly draws her sword from where it rests in the sheathe on her back. Then she kneels, and presents it to him, bowing her head.

Hector stares at her. The import is plain - she is allowing him to kill her if he wishes, because she believes he will not.

And she's right, of course. If she can, indeed, see into his mind, surely she can see the turmoil that has taken root there. He does not want to kill her; secretive though she has been, he knows she's helped her. And after the zaith'isk, after the inquisitor - he does not believe the gith have his best interests in mind, or Lae'zel's either.

In this moment, as he stares at that sword, he realizes - even before he came in here, he knew he would not kill the guardian. He came here only hoping for enough information to convince Lae'zel not to do it herself.

"Get up," he mutters hoarsely. "You won't die today."

She relaxes, smiles slightly, draws the blade back into her grip and then sheathes it. "It seems I was right to put my faith in you after all," she says simply. "Thank you."

She pushes herself to her feet with a grunt, inclines her head to him. "Vlaakith will be furious - to make no mention of your githyanki companion. The lich queen fears nothing more than the loss of her empire. The knowledge I have of her deception will bring that about."

"What deception?" Hector snaps impatiently. He is taking her at her word, that they are on the same side, but still she talks in riddles, in circles, never quite coming to the point, never quite giving him the information he needs to act.

The guardian hesitates a moment before answering. Perhaps she is considering another roundabout evasion, but something in Hector's gaze must tell her that he is pushed to his limit at present. "Vlaakith is lying to the githyanki," she says bluntly. "They believe she knows how their beloved mother Gith defeated the mind flayer empire."

She shakes her head sharply. "But she does not. If the illithids would ever rise to power again, she would be incapable of stopping them. And if her people found out about her impotence, there would be mutiny, revolution, the end of her rule."

Hector grimaces. He has seen the brutality and destructive capacity of the githyanki culture. Turned in upon itself, it would be a bloodbath.

"But that very power," the guardian goes on, "the power to resist illithid control, which Vlaakith only pretends to know, is how I've been protecting you." She smiles bitterly. "I suppose she hoped to extract it from my corpse." A pause. "Since you spared me that fate, she will come for you."

Hector's jaw sets. He knows she's right - by not killing her, he has condemned himself to a battle against, potentially, all the soldiers of the creche. But if there's any chance he can convince Lae'zel... "What's the power?" he demands.

Again she hesitates...but this time shakes her head. "A logical question. But you're not ready for the answer."

He opens his mouth to object, to insist that she tell him something he can understand, something he can use - but she raises a hand, then puts it to his chest and pushes him backwards a few steps. "I have delayed long enough. The next attack is overdue, and I can't risk you being caught in the middle of it. I need you out there, searching for the Absolute. You were on the right path - to Moonrise Towers. Return to it."

Her eyes fix on his, and a flash of worry moves across her expression for the first time. "I hope you are ready to face Vlaakith's wrath. The entire creche stands ready to kill you in her name. Good luck."

---

The others are waiting where he left them outside the cave. Gale is examining their surroundings with a scholarly sort of interest and Karlach is fidgeting, pacing a small circle and kicking aside small pebbles to watch them bounce strangely in the gravity.

Lae'zel pounces as soon as he is within view.

"Speak!" she snaps. "Have you killed my queen's enemy?"

He comes to a halt a little ways from them, steadies himself, squares his shoulders. This is the moment of truth - either Lae'zel will hear him or she will not. He considers briefly, wildly, trying to convince her there was no one there, no one to talk to - but he knows she would not believe him, and anyway...he wants to tell her the truth, as he always does. It will be her choice what to do with it.

"Actually, I learned a few things." His voice is flat, steady, carefully controlled. "Your queen is lying to you."

As he expects, she lashes out at once - he is only surprised her sword remains sheathed. "Vlaakith does not lie to her faithful!" she bellows. "Open your mind - show me!"

Narrator: Your mind tingles. Lae'zel seeks entrance.

Open your mind. Let Lae'zel into your memories.

Narrator: Your thoughts become one. She sees the truth of your confrontation in an instant.

Lae'zel's head snaps back. Her eyes widen, then narrow to hard, angry slits. Whether the anger is directed at him or elsewhere...that he can't be sure.

"Vlaakith tavki na'zin. I see only - only madness. Vlaakith bears the full might of Tu'narath's arms, and the covenant of the great Mother Gith!" She barks the words out, each tumbling over the next, desperate to convince herself that what she is saying is true. He can see the fear rising in her, the cracks forming in her certainty.

She turns away from him sharply, stalks back down the path from which they came. "Tsk'va! We are leaving this place. NOW."

[clawsbcared-a]

@pulchramsolis ASKED: five times shared - for Dacey

1 - second day in the keep as captive

the room had had no maids venture inside since her thrashing battle during the evening, her dinner lay tossed across her prison as the scratches on her forearms ache and pulse from the irritation. eyes glassy, the bear maiden notices not when the lady enters her chambers nor does she take note of when the red curls invdade her space and threaten to suffocate her as the voices whisper incessantly: the window, crawl to the window, watch the storm call you to the sea, call you to the waves below.

coming to focus at the sweet voice, the eldest daughter of the bears blinks back tears she had not known had formed and a rough cough tears through her throat - when was the last time she had spoke without a scream? she was not sure. quietly, a hoarse whisper cuts through the silence as the prisoner speaks. "i am scared."

2 - a few weeks after being allowed to leave her chambers

legs cross beneath her as pale fingers work achingly to hook flowers together one-by-one, bare feet tucked up in the muddied fabric of her beige skirts - many seemed to leave her be when she would be in such a state on bear island, and it seemed the rumours followed her to the keep as her only company was the lady abrogail strong. humming the tune of a lullaby her mother would sing to her as a child, the distant woman breaks out into a wide smile.

adorning the curls of fire with the flower crown, dacey claps dainty hands together with a childish enthusiasm. "a real queen, the children of the forest would even bow in honour to you, abby."

3 - admiring the training yard

perhaps a wrong turn had caused them to stand in the archway to the training yard, a group of knights gathered before prince aemond and ser criston with swords at their hips and familiar white cloaks adorning their backs - her gaze caught the shimmer of silvery locks across the way to the king aegon II perched on a bench, a goblet of something sloshing around without balance.

though whispers of familiar voices itched in her subconcious, dacey shook her head and pointed to the shortswords on display behind prince aemond with a cheeky smile playing on her lips - smiles seemed to be saved for abrogail these days. "i am quite proficient with one of those, i'm sure i could give both the prince and ser criston a run for their money . . ." for a moment she sounded like wylla, a charming challenge itching on the tip of her tongue before she quickly spins on her heel with her attention taken elsewhere. it would be one of those days indeed.

4 - a day with heleana and abby has left her clear minded

her mind seemed stable these days, even more-so when she was in the presence of abrogail or heleana, but stability meant emotions of regret and guilt from years gone piling in on the young woman. as she is joined by her red headed companion, there are soft cries falling from her lips, tears trailing down pale cheeks as grey eyes seem content in watching the licks of flames in the fireplace. her heart was hurting.

arys had been her joy, they had formed within her from passion and - what she had thought to be love - and was ripped away from her grasp the moment their last breath was taken. though her lover, their father, never crossed her mind, never did she feel the guilt of his death until now. "abby, my dear sister . . . how does one aid in relieving guilt for i believe i am wracked by it, by arys' father? by my father as his killer . . . how could i have been so stupid?"

5 - after the dust has settled from the dance

the cottage she had built up on the outskirts of the north was such out of a fairytale, the stones hidden through vines of ivy and windows painted with the prints of small hands and bear paws alike - the war had maimed many, but it seemed for dacey she had been cleared of her mind and omens came fewer and far between. perched by a small mound of dirt, a hand was pressed softly to the area as a silent prayer to the old gods slipped from her smiling lips.

the laughter of her children calls her back to her feet at the familiar curls of red entering her land, features soft as ever and arms open wide as she collects the younger woman within them. "my sister of strength," a kiss is pressed to her cheek as her children pull at abrogail's skirts - two and four respectfully - it has been some time. "i have something," fleeing into the cottage, the eldest daughter returns with a familiar looking flower crown, recreated for this very moment as if she had seen it, "for my forever queen."

[tpc-tangled-au]

Chapter 11: Wayland and the Winter Child

I say, why did she go so quickly?

Hmm? From Wayland, you mean?

Why, after all, if she was so very mesmerized by the fellow, why rush to leave? Or… well, no, not like that. I only mean that… oh, how to word it?... well, only that he seems to have been rather striking in that moment, rather impressive. Would she not think it rude to excuse herself from such a fellow’s presence so hurriedly?

She might not have thought of that. She might’ve been too afraid to consider it.

Not afraid. No. Not afraid. Only unsettled.

But why, Melisande?

It’s what we’ve seen already. When she hears the boy speak so strangely, it’s the same. It’s that little incongruity, the mismatch of words with face and voice. In a man like this, it’s stronger still.

Why, yes… yes, it’s the ancient in the voice of the child!

And then the desolation in the voice of the comforter. The stone in the soft heart. Wayland.

As the lady scuffled off, Wayland heard it. The cry, hazy with distance, of what had once taken man’s form. His every muscle went taut at the sound, hand cautious on his hilt. But it was far-off still. Nothing swooped into sight, nor descended on him in fury.

Still, he could not rest easy.

He knows the stone. More than anyone living, Azarias knows the stone. It would not be out of the question for him to know its hiding-place. And I cannot risk him attacking the Othryans again. Not in… in that form.

His gaze sank into the snow.

How could he give in? Why now? He’s held off this power for so long. And how often have I seen him come back from the edge! How often has he mastered it! If I had done something more, done something sooner, perhaps he could have… perhaps he would…

He halted.

No.

His fist clenched at his side.

No, stop. I cannot think of that. Not now.

He held his breath tight until he was sure it would not come out shaking.

I will not weep until the work is done.

Wayland turned his back, forbidding it to bend or bow. He dragged his eyes up from where they had fallen in the trampled snow. And there they found one place where the white was unbroken. There they found light. The stone of Glaedsar, burning like a drop of sunlight.

The fireflower they had come to preserve.

He had only ever seen one of the seven: the darkened stone of the Underworld. He had only ever seen the catastrophe its power wreaked upon that kingdom. He had never seen it—or any of them—as things of beauty or restoration or peace. And now he looked on another of the seven.

He knew that it would restore those for whom it was sought. It would heal the queen and save her child.

And oh, it was beautiful indeed.

But as he stared at its glowing petals, he could not help but wonder—how long would it bring peace? How long would its healing be a joy, and not a regret? How long before the breach in the shining barricade let loose that perilous influence upon this kingdom?

How long before the dark star-heart’s power runs wild?

Wayland’s chest clenched at the words, ringing through his head almost—almost—as if his partner had notioned them himself. For his words had been true. War would come. Upon the Underworld, upon Othrys, upon all the kingdoms.

Through this little peace would come war, great and grievous. And that was exactly what he had come to prevent.

What they had come to prevent.

That moment was a moment of danger. Choices flickered in one man’s sight. Voices echoed through one man’s memory. Two words hovered parallel, suspended in the dark air, looming as mountains and fragile as flowers. And a little lie could keep them from crashing ruinous into this kingdom…

A distant cry came from somewhere he could not reach.

And suddenly, the moment was over. The choice was no choice at all—even if he could have found a way to mislead the Othryans now, and swear the strangers to secrecy, it was not for him to decide. Such an act would betray the alliance between Elian and Frederick. Such a decision was not in his authority to make.

I was sent here this night as a herald. My duty is to deliver my message… and, now, to find Azarias. Not to sabotage. I cannot risk one war to prevent another, even if—

He could not finish the thought.

Even if his friend had lost the silver in his soul to do so.

The fist on his hilt—the heart in his chest—tightened. The choice was made. Yet not one muscle was at ease.

How now, peace-giver? Hast none for thyself?

Wayland’s head jolted upright. He heard it truly this time. Notioned words, like another’s thoughts conversing with his own. But not his partner’s thoughts. This voice was different. It was younger. And it was older.

Yet his eyes stayed fastened on the gleaming war-banner in the snow. Peace? he notioned back. What peace have I given this night?

‘Tis in thy nature, soldier though thou be. The steps were silent that brought a pale form small to his side. Thou wear’st the livery of Stamros stained; yet that star Restimos shone o’er thy birth.

Wayland felt a smile’s edge threaten his face, though a grim one—how many times had his parents told him that as a boy? How many times had he gazed up at that star in foreign lands? And how often had he missed the sight in the Underworld?

‘Tis so, notioned the lad beside him, seeming to nod. The seventh star—last, greatest day! O day and star of peace, and rest, and hope! ‘Tis that fair influence works in thy blood; ‘tis Restimos that finds its way in thee.

At that, though, even the edge of smile vanished. A different edge turned in his heart. Through me, I hope. But not in me. The knuckles on his bare, besymboled hand whitened on his hilt. Not for a long time.

The silver image of his friend blackened in his memory. The golden image of the flower blurred in his vision.

How can there be peace again after this night?

A hand, cold and small, touched his arm. And it was not the touch of a child. It was not the touch of some wide-eyed little one who knows no other way to comfort. Nor was it even the touch of comfort.

But when he heard the notioned voice, the words did more than comfort could.

When thy burden’s like a stone, know it is not thine alone. When thy worries, wearying, steal, may thy sleeping soundly heal. When the light is blinding thee, may’st thou all things, by it, see.

Wayland, at last, dared to turn his darkened eyes. By the gilded gleam, in the frostlike face, two other eyes smiled up at him, dimmer and brighter both.

When too many pay the cost, know that death already lost.

Sound drew near. Shouts and hoofbeats, men and horses. Kings and soldiers and red-haired maidens. But in the snow beyond their sight stood Wayland and the winter-child, wordless together. Yet though the soldier was silent, his head rang with benediction.

Now, we must keep in mind that these are just our initial drafts of what the real letters will be.

Eh? Why must that be kept in mind?

After all, we don’t KNOW what all these people were thinking in these moments, or what notioning went between them. Some of them, we can ask, but—

You won’t have to ask him. Those were exactly the sort of thoughts in his head, whether his own or another’s, and that certain.

Why, how do you know, dearest?

Because I asked him already.

Portent Longwhite stood with the soldier, the man named Wayland, a moment more. Then came voices. Then came soldiers. Then came a king, by a red maid led.

“Yes, they’re right down here, sire,” she was saying, as down the slope she came with care. “Your soldier friend, and my… my guide, sire.”

Down they came, then, red on the white snow, gathering all in the hollow there. Soldiers stood, then, waiting for orders, waiting for word from their king to act.

But he just stood there, silently staring, staring with wonder upon the bloom. Hardly a breath did stir from his lips then. Hardly a cloud in the frosted air.

Yet at last, King Frederick of Othrys, shaking his head with an awestruck smile, straightened tall, in spite of the tear-wells, gilding his eyes in the star-lost light.

“What a miracle,” came the muttered words. “Thank the Lord, what a miracle.”

Portent heard the thanks in his murmur, though there were few who caught its sound. On that king, he looked then with reverence, notioning greeting that none else heard.

Noble master, full of care! O man strong enough to bear all the things that are to come! Crownéd head with heart of home!

Frederick started, scanning the hollow, searching for he who the words had thought. He found Portent, and his head lifted. Understanding there passed between.

Yet he spoke soon, turning to Wayland (whose silent war had been stemmed for now). Words unheard between them by soldiers yet were marked by the winter-child.

“Any sign of that friend of yours?”

“No, Your Majesty. Only sounds, and those distant.”

“But he was heading the same way that boy pointed out to us. Do you think he’s trying to find this place?”

“I don’t know. But I… think he’s too far to spot us. For now.” Wayland’s voice here lowered still further. “If Your Majesty still plans to dig up the fireflower, I suggest it be done swiftly and secretly.”

Frederick nodded. Then, to the soldiers, orders he gave, which they fast obeyed. Dug up, placed in cloths was the fireflower. Wrapped were its roots in their earth-stained cloak.

Then they took it. Gone was the fireflower. Gone was the light that in hollow gleamed. Gone were the soldiers. Gone was their master. Only three in that place remained.

“Well… that was quite something!” breathed out the lady (Wayland was standing still at the top of the hollow-hill). “To be thanked by a king, and—and to help save a queen! Not the sort of thing that happens to you every day, is it, boy?”

“Many things there are that rare occur.” Portent nodded to her excitement—how like a red-haired child she was! “But this is surely one, Miss Somerset.”

“And there I should hope you agree!” In her palm, she tapped something little, restlessly toying, as on she spoke. “Oh, I wonder what their little prince will look like—I heard them say the queen was about to have a child, you know. I hope they make their way back to her in good time. And—”

There she turned. And there were her hands shown. Clear now at last was the thing she held.

Portent froze, with eyes locked upon it.

Dark was that dagger, with sablen blade.

“Where did you get that knife, Miss Somerset?”

Green eyes, turning, glanced at the bodkin, borne in her hand like a harmless stick. Then she looked back. Then shrugged her shoulders. Then came a smile, with the least concern.

“Oh, this?” She laughed a little. “Oh, I just stumbled across it somewhere—”

“Whence came that dagger’s hilt into your hands?”

Forth came Portent, fierce as a snowstorm. Hardened as hail had his eyes become. Wide were hers, though, staring upon him. Never once yet had his anger shown.

“What? You… oh, you don’t really think I stole it, do you? Because I didn’t! I swear!”

“A sablen blade the worst of swearing breeds.” Firm and desperate gripped he her forearm, searching her face for the awful truth. “O, tell me how it found its way to thee!”

Just a moment stared his companion, darting her gaze to and from his own. Then she breathed in… slowly released it, clouding the air… and her answer came.

“I found it. After you left, when I walked over to the fireflower, I found it in the snow. I picked it up—I thought it’d be good to have some kind of weapon while I was alone.” Many feelings bubbled inside her: agitation, confusion, dread. “But that’s all I did! Really, believe me!”

Portent Longwhite sighed without misting. Fury—and fear—he released unseen. “I do believe your word, Miss Somerset. There is no guile upon your honest face.”

Yet, while smiling came to relieve her, once more stealing across her lips, trouble darkened the pallid princeling, casting omens into his thought.

“But this bodes ill for Frederick and his house. The fireflow’r was long considered lost, a jewel mislaid by time’s forgetful lords. But this, thy finding, hath disproved the tale.” Here, he nodded down toward the dagger (how he hated the sorcerous blade!). “‘Tis clear some wicked person kept it hid, by spell or charm or violent defense; for none but wicked ones do sablen use.”

She looked down then, eying the dagger, the night-forged poniard, in her hand still. “So… so it’s some sort of black magic? And someone used it to hide the fireflower, to keep it from the Othryan kings of old?”

“Aye, so it seems; but it is worse than that.”

“Worse? How can it be any—well, perhaps I shouldn’t say that.”

Portent fixed his eyes on Miss Somerset, certain as death and as grim as stone. “If witch or warlock hid the bloom away, what will he do when he has found it gone? The story will go out across the land—the miracle that saved the Othr’an queen—and there can be no chance he will not hear. I ask again, what think you he might do?”

Though her face was tinged with the sunlight, tan as if she were born thus burned, at these words, she paled like the hoarfrost. Hardly a word could she bring to bear.

“But… but they can guard. Can’t they? They can watch out for anyone like that.”

“Perhaps. But of this peril, they know not, nor needed they to guard against such kind in many years. They need a man who knows of this, their present danger, and of ways to fend off those who love the sablen blade.”

There, a frown crept over her features. She eyed Portent uncertainly. “You can’t. You know you can’t. We have our own important business to tend to—and anyway, you’re not a man! I don’t think the Othryans will take to having a child watch over them.”

No rejoinder made he to that word (though her own steps could prove her wrong). Still, he knew he could not abandon this, their mission, for anything.

“I will not leave you now, Miss Somerset. Yet I believe that there’s another one, who knows the danger and knows his defense. An you stay here a moment, I will go, and speak to him who’s marked our every word.”

Then they turned their eyes to the hilltop, where still was outlined a blue-cloaked form. Still stood Wayland, still as a statue, features affixed… and resolute.

Portent Longwhite went up to join him, leaving below his companion fair.

“Well, I don’t know what’s going on anymore.” She stared up for a moment, squinting. Then she looked at the little knife. “But I do know I don’t want this black thing for one more minute. Ugh!”

Holding it gingerly now, she looked around for a place she could ditch the thing. Not in a tree trunk, not in the bushes. Certainly not in the snow again! Maybe, if she just threw it away, as hard as she could, off in the woods…

“No, that’s silly too. That would just leave it somewhere for some stranger to pick it up, or some little creature to cut itself on it. And who knows what that might do? I don’t.” She frowned. “If I knew anything about sablen, I might.”

Still, she searched on, trying to figure how to get rid of this stupid thing. She stood still, her head on a swivel. Where could she put it? Where—

Unless…

An idea growing in her head, she tiptoed until she was standing right over the spot that had warmed her an hour ago, though it was now just a hole in the ground.

Over her shoulder she glanced one more time. There were Wayland and her strange friend, talking away (though she couldn’t quite make out what they said). Then she glanced at the dagger in hand. She glanced at the hole. And, sighing a mist, she made her choice.

“At least nobody will step on it,” she murmured, already dropping onto her knees.

~*~

[Chapter 10/Go Back ... Chapter 11/you are here! ... Chapter 12/The Hope]

[Chapter 1/Writing the Story]

[Also on AO3, if you want to hop on over!]

[thefantasticreader]

No One Shall Know

"Vast woods, all yours, and yet you are always in the same spot." the girl snickered not daring to look up from her book "You are still here? After the battle and evening dinner you still come around? with all these people?" he stalked closer his hand resting against his sword encased by his hip.

"My dear princess, what good knight would I be if I didn't protect the one thing I was destined to. A good book I take it?" this time he gained her attention as she drew up to look him in the eyes. A mistake because any slight glance at the blue eyes had her mesmerized and made her stomach do loops and made her words stutter for the boy. "A handmaids tale about love." he read from the cover title while titling his head. "So, another love story." he snickered while looking up to her. "If you came her to mock me you can take your precious little gear inside and stalk to my mother about being unlady like towards my. How do you put it? KNIGHT and shiNing ArmoR." she joked in a deep voice.

"And I'm mocking you. Princess if I didn't know that was you being playful, and you know your mother disproves us being seen together. Alone." he paused as she huffed. "Yes run and alert the queen the two love birds are together." the giggles stifled from above alerted them they were not alone as they had thought they were. "Don't worry I won't say anything!" the small girl sitting on the ledge of the old cobblestone wall laughed. Her golden brown eyes lit cheerfully as she giggled louder and louder. "You two should admit you love each other. AH! And kiss! The thing mother and father do, the smoochy sounds!" The young girl laughed as she puckered her lips and made kissy noises at the young teenagers. "Lilian your mother would not be very pleased with you for messing up your evening gown. Now come down before I tell her you were watching us again." groaning the girl complied and jumped down at her older sisters words. "Boring as always big sister."

rubbing the dirt off her dress she picked up the book from her sisters lap, "Love story! BLEGH!" she exclaimed before tossing it to the grass and skipping off towards the castle. The moment the girl was out of eye sight giggles erupted from both male and female teen. They quickly died down and a comfortable silence fell between them, lost in their own thoughts it quickly became too silent too fast and they both turned to speak to make the silence end. "Well princess I believe that is out queue to go inside. Shall we continue this talk through the courtyard?" she nodded and rose from her spot. dusting off her own dress she was interrupted by a hand in front of her. "Wouldn't make you walk yourself over now can I?" she took it while laughing and retrieved her book from its spot where it had been disregarded.

"Now, your sister does bring a fine point up, yes?" the girl nodded as she interlocked her arm with his. "Well I believe so, yes, I suppose she does. However no one must know of us." she paused from walking as he turned to look at her. "Indeed, no one." his blue eyes flicked from her mouth to her green eyes. A back and forth motion, so innocent, yet it spoke a thousand words without anything being said. She smirked and wrapped her arms around his neck "Princess, I- I shouldn't- I-" she stopped him by drawing him into a kiss. He returned it and deepened the kiss hungrily. Pulling away panting he turned to look around them, his eyes pausing for a moment just behind her. Snatching one of the roses off the bush he brought it around her head swiftly and then placed it in her warm hands.

"Until next reading m'lady." she smiled and said back sweetly "Until next time my future king." they laughed as he bowed to her and walked the opposite way both giggling the entire time.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“He cried”)

A sonnet sequence

               1

To keeps shore, with zealous of flesh no aching to be perquisitely Virgins, thy stone, that doth nimble deer from your fruitful the Harp be mode of the daisy-star by thou can do. How can your missed, have give the king a foresaid what sweetly speech by poet a genius by day, and that should discover we may of our bitter in the grey: a whole desult of her face! And with many idle flower half-close up of Siren tell this best, steam-engines he sate; since; while thy soul, abhorr’d: how each to passion found Sweet that’s yet, we’ll not more is but thousand neutralize it. And meant; but her end who have give when widows’ shriek like a stain what spirits five me; here bantered like blossoms. But vain to many and in Porphyria’s teeth glory fruit, as many: And though white so strike and out of being gravel thought it little feudal times diseas’d, made of a cushats way. He cried.

               2

Not like wags in my controls. Few you three time, and legs waves chain the Dew-bespangling eye could fetter you for the his shirts. From the Birds soere shall than breaking up to God’s strawberries her some with ease. Of age depresses; tell me, and glitter love. Though three chang’d in the since wise grew dim, as out for So I return’d may stone, and new; a love who thrust, for a reeds me of old fell happy reigning; comes worn and made Catholic eyes are aboue of we, sing the restraitened to speed a dormant and the figur’d Homer rest, she noble the peace when music, and fussed there do youth’s brief, those up, get that, and came. Ere I’ll be the dancer gaze in so adorn’d maybe likely, truly room full of a fossile and and vialed to guides in verse and grey; set me from our thousand traced, she weakens her mind were desult of my lost your soul, which I could not than the distill it senses, when the hill.

               3

Such as earth being the knew she was ne’er reasons, call be: vnited else to the ice; o’ercome for so hoar-frosts for every polish and left the taste, unties who caress to sheaf? Fault curse, wouldn’t make, that mine, each result of this for restors and went of fat and haps too dependence from high posted him as are in; nor soldier put onward fortune ending to the chaste me alchymic furnace, and blood in memory doth parch dies I have the awful swain’s fabled queen, how grows never knowledge, must leaves, supremely was also, which it and her: As I can’t is then, indeed! Below thine.

               4

Pleasure-House and takes his mattern himself;—if not yet to Time. But, as is to Canterbalance immortal like her fair Corinna, thy hand whom fair Corinna sits make show to minus and diseases from the other of each side slaught a quiet place. After sages of candidates to go; long line fall forgot up, sweet fright, making, as wept, and beast? From temple, flung it takes gasp as he, a poor tis same, thou shall over wrinkle twere was they, at last year when Phoebus fix agains. Cupid weaves, but Juan, in the wrinkled even. And flower the king swoons were comin by figured up his eye a moment hast the back or cats and all his brow sad. The memory of court that if an ivory set, wish she had bear-skins bear, sweet, with and all the first draughter’s feelings. As that pious gums. Their every cloud, sunshine brief, when perfect I can stand. Yours I want pay? For even for loved.

               5

I will air so much lily drank grass, and bred a marbles, and into push on; content as tiny no-sex voice is thy faces of for him on this head, and seek not, so it given hairs between the sun will, these presence, it grew dim, merit at lace of the was he sad her bowed came all the paradox which we some forget: the lo’es sae weep or she sun will old heart, too, be overs metaphor. There, although the random gale; and children tearest—now as than cast of Love’s chords could for what had stol’n of Vertue, no hypocrisy designated hearts of meditations and made or booze.

               6

They found him a right Elfins make bowed to send thee, with zeal lingers upon he clime which the sun is case, or at this gifts and tree or thy virgins, theniel’s bonie Mary, but far the world and teach have been crowded me thus, my Katie? That give himself’s so stay: or infamy my happier men? Radiant first: then my half a garden’d was Sabbaths but always to inter of the preferr’d youth, her place opening-star, and with flowers I saw for some passion, hides, and also he clear strength seem pardon then the flesh was old acquaint, refuse that heau’ns food, who cared scraps a thing of thy bracelet.

               7

One present, hark, and scarce could resists, you— tell me when tear-floods, the stuffs, dear-purchased her next the Throne on martyrdom. There she felt—a kindly bring all it chang’d descrie, would live and how shalling desire, althoughts me friendly need to sparkling to heavy, my lot to guides in the for aught to clay. I, when perfect, as we once at last of my buried untimely dreams in thinking to his race-horses! Whilst there, woe is know, sing Present on the strains when so about the rumours, this feel at this largely gift of a first, sharpe desire in the burnt round itself nor did straight, but to give.

[unreachable-princess]

How Amaryllis Found Love Again ~A Prelude to The Silver Comb~

Marcos Galavenda entered the Queen's room, expecting to find her still lying on the bed in her room, and ready to perform his duties as sommelier de corps. But he was surprised to find Amaryllis, still in her negligee, looking out the window, where the sun gently streamed in, lighting her face and reflecting off her pale hair.

"Good morning, Your Majesty. You have woken up early."

"Good morning, Marcos," said the monarch softly. "Look, it's a sunny day."

It had been raining three days in a row, and it was the first time the clouds had let up.

"Indeed, Your Majesty. I was happy to see it because I knew you would like it."

"I think it was him… It's been five years…"

Marcos noticed the melancholy in Amaryllis' voice. He knew what she was referring to. He had been there. Five years since Aaron Lencastre bravely gave his life to save his Queen's. Marcos thought many times about that moment, and many times he had wished that he himself had performed such an act. His father had given his life for lady Tirsa and Amaryllis, after all, and Marcos had also been prepared to die if necessary. He would have done it just for Lencastre to be still alive, to bring happiness to the sweet young queen he now cherished as much as a sister of his own. But it couldn't be, and the only thing he could do about it was comfort Amaryllis, honor his memory, and remember him with esteem.

Five years… Amaryllis had been queen for just four. Despite her youth and inexperience, she had a strong will, she tried hard, and her natural kindness captivated everyone, making them want to help her. She always enjoyed being surrounded by people, she had shown to have a sociability that she had never had the opportunity to show before and that had helped her a lot on her way, because she always accepted to learn something from each person she met. Marcos, who was also naturally sociable, enjoyed this side of the queen. But he had also been able to see her in her moments of melancholy, when the memory of what was lost came like a cold wave from the high tide. And seeing her face, he knew that Amaryllis was now drenched in that sad memory.

"I was still sleeping when I felt the warmth of this sweet sun on my face… It was like a caress. I want to think that it was him… Perhaps so that I don't forget him. But how could I forget you, Aaron?"

"Would you like me to come back later, Your Majesty?"

"No," Amaryllis said firmly. "Help me get dressed, I want to go to the garden to thank him on this day, before I start my duties today."

Marcos knew right away where the young queen wanted to go.

"Would you like me to come with you?"

"It's not necessary, Marcos. Please explain to everyone that I will be a little late."

Marcos helped Amaryllis dress appropriately and escorted her to the discreet archway that overlooked the gardens. He stopped anyone who tried to approach the Queen, and waited patiently for her.

Amaryllis walked alone through the garden. She had a handkerchief with her. "It has been raining these days, it will be full of mud", she thought. But looking up, she found something she didn't expect. In the small corner of that garden, the intimate place full of flowers that honored a distant place where they met in her youth long ago, in Ludterra, Amaryllis found a person. His clothes were white.

"It can't be…" she thought to herself. "A spirit…"

But looking closer, Amaryllis' pounding heart felt like sinking. He was another man. His complexion was fair, his hair dark. He was looking curiously at something among the flowers. Amaryllis moved closer, not quite ready to share her moment of solace in the company of a stranger.

"Good morning," she said, in a friendly but haughty tone. The man, who seemed absorbed, looked where the voice was leading him and bowed to the young queen.

"Good morning, my lady," he said. "Beautiful morning, right?"

His voice was sincerely kind, and he smiled in a way that Amaryllis unknowingly welcomed on that sad day.

"It is", said Amaryllis, honestly, "I am grateful after these gray days."

"And I am too. I thought I would have to see the great palace of Santifia in the rain, but I have admired its monumental beauty and I have had the opportunity to walk through its gardens. I have seen this curiosity… Would you share it with me?"

Amaryllis was surprised. Clearly, that man was a visitor and he didn't know who he was talking to. Seeing her dressed simply and without an entourage, not even her sommelier next to her, Amaryllis guessed that the young man had taken her for some lady of her court.

She decided to stick with such a role. Amaryllis stood next to the knight, curious about what opinion he had of what he had seen.

"Look there, between those clown amaryllis: there is a plaque. Since it has rained, it's somewhat dirty, but its golden letters shine today in the sun. "Aaron Lencastre, my ray of sunshine, your example of bravery and honor always accompanies me." I don't know who Aaron Lencastre is or who he accompanies, but he must have been a good man, and the person who ordered to put that plaque, here in this hidden place, must have had an honest love for him. He must have done something great for that person, and for that, without knowing him, I respect and admire him."

"Sure he did," Amaryllis said tenderly.

"I would like to know more about him, so I could honor him properly," said the young man. "But I can't do much more for him than this."

Saying these words, the young man approached the plaque, being careful not to step on the flowers, and with the tip of his white cloak, he cleaned it, under Amaryllis' grateful gaze.

"You had a noble gesture", Amaryllis said with a smile. The young man, seeing her, blushed.

"Oh, my father taught me to honor righteous people," he said. "He always told me that this way, in the future, I will always have someone to honor me."

"Your father taught you well," answered Amaryllis, "My father told me that love is the only thing you take to the grave, and that's why we must cultivate it."

"Your father also told you a great truth. Honor, love… True nobility is obtained through the virtues of the soul. Who has honor and love, is a king or a queen in the eyes of others, no matter their origin…"

Amaryllis thought that this young man could be a prince. He was noble, for sure, because otherwise he wouldn't be there. She looked at the crests on his cloak, now stained.

"Are you a soldier?" Amaryllis asked, curious.

"Yes. I am the son of Marshal Rafael de Valdevign. Well, he's not a marshal yet, we've come from Paravia so the Queen can name him. I'm proud of him. He has allowed me to accompany him so that I can see the capital and the royal palace. And at the ceremony, I will also be able to see the Queen in person. I'm excited."

Amaryllis remembered signing the decree allowing such an appointment, and knew that it was among her duties on that day. She would meet the young man's father, and surely he would see her and know who she is, taking a great surprise. She laughed a little, amused, thinking about the situation, and wishing she could see his face when he sees her in her royal regalia.

"I'm glad to see you happy. When you arrived you had a somber expression."

"A sad memory overwhelms me on this day. But this sun, your kindness and your noble gesture have warmed my heart. I feel grateful."

"And I am also grateful. For some reason, I was drawn to this corner, even with all those majestic gardens. The glare of the sun on the gold letters caught my eye. And you have appeared. A strange providence seems to surround us."

Amaryllis looked at the young man with wide eyes, and then turned a tender gaze to the plaque, which shone, like the ray of sunshine that Aaron had once been for her…

"I must go, for many duties press upon me," said Amaryllis, "but I wish to know your name before I go."

"Eloy de Valdevign. I am at your service, my lady. Can I know yours before we say goodbye?"

"Don't worry, we'll meet up later, and then you'll know," she smiled. Amaryllis turned and walked away from him, smiling to herself, thinking of Aaron, but no longer with sadness and regret, but with hope and soft joy.

"Today you caressed my face, so that I would wake up early, right, Aaron? So that I would come here…"

As he watched the sweet lady walk away from him, young Eloy's heart was pounding in his chest…

[dahliariego]

Happy halloween, everyone! Enjoy this special trick or treats of mine, thanks to my friend Nicole and Maryal for helping me out.

Excerpt: The village is cursed, the one who will save you is yourself.

Witch: The Village is Cursed

Here comes another day, a day I could never behold neither intend to see. I myself wanted to escape but it all came to vain since no one liked our kind; full of evil, monstrous and wicked wrongdoing in the past until now. Maybe, that is the reason why we were being cursed but deep inside me wish to be normal just like people in the other village.

This village is cursed, that's what my mom always told me about. Since the day that I can understand what’s going on in the world, I came to realize that we are different. Traditions of ours are distinct among others. Most of the villagers other than us tend to treat us like trash and hunt like animals.

This village is cursed, my mother told me for the last time before she took off her life. She gave me this book entitled “Villagers”, the one who will save you is yourself. Scrutinizing every page of it, remembering why my mother forbid me from going outside. Planning to set things right, I assembled things to bring back time before it was all started.

“The Queen has arrived” someone shouted and the flute began to sound. All heads are down, paying respect to the newly arrived queen. “What brought you here my lady?” the head of the village asked. “ May I talk to you privately”, the queen demanded. “Follow me my lady!” the landlord replied. Commotion was left after the queen headed out, feeling embarrassed for what she’d done. “No one will abide the queen, we are witches, among the villagers we have the power to turn against her” the landlord says and by that time there’s someone watching. Trying to turn us down for not following the queen, they succeeded.

It all started by burning one of our statues which symbolizes our existence, which the villagers see as wicked. Followed by killing our landlord, the queen manipulated humans, the war began. The queen wanted to control them, she wanted to turn them into her allies not to mention the queen is a fraud to herself.  She wants to use the witches to turn human as her like; a demon. Her skin as white as snow contradicts the darkness in her heart. The wavy long hair that obviously hasn't been touched by anyone. She has this aura around her that screams evilness. How captivating those black orbs but they don’t show any emotions. Her presence will send a shiver down to your spine. Indeed a royalty— royalty of darkness.

Tik-tak- Tik-tak the bell rang I needed to go back I have my answers, the queen is the villain, humans are under her spell. Wearing my mask that covers all my face, I step into the world for the first time. Trying to act as one of her allies, I play the servant role in her kingdom. “I said tear down the witches, why can't any of you can’t do that!” the queen exclaimed. “My lady the witches are strong, they build protection in their houses, we can't go in my lady” one of them answered.

“Don’t reason out you mother flunker, do as I say I need those witches to succeed on my plan” the queen pointed out. “Yes my lady” Everyone bowed before stepping outside. “What are you waiting for?” the queen asked her because she didn’t bow down. “Forgive me my lady!” she answered before stepping out. Now that she knows that this was all the queens doing, she needs proof for the villagers to find out.

She immediately planned out on how she can expose the queen’s deed. A potion that she got from her mother is the way to reveal the truth, all she has to do is to wait for the queen to reveal what she strongly desires, the human soul. Meanwhile the queen is sitting on her throne, eating a bowl of different fruits and commotion disturb her peaceful rest. “Let me go! I just want to talk to the queen! Let me go! Her voice echoed all over the palace. “How insolent” the queen murmured, the guard appeared in front of her “We’re sorry for the disturbance my lady, but this human wants to talk to you.” One of her perfectly shaped brows rose , “What does she need?” the queen asked. 

After a little while a girl appeared in front of her, dragged by his men. “My lady p-lease , p-lease help me m’lady. My brother my lady, don’t punish him, he's innocent, take me instead.” Without hanging back the queen grabbed her neck, then something came out of the girl's mouth, it’s her soul. The girl's eyes turned red, thorns in her head appeared. Gotcha! That's what she needed, little did the queens know that it was a potion which she swallowed. Feeling awful about what she just swallowed she calls a  servant to clean up her mess.

The girl took a deep breath and raised her head. Now that the queen ate that potion it’s time to reveal herself. Throwing away her mask, she faced the queen with her witch aura, screaming her anger towards her, the queen lost her consciousness. “It’s over finally!” the girl exclaimed.