#the way he raises his voice a little about the wagon

[procyonloser]

Pt 2

Lucifer had been thinking about the guy at the aquarium for the last two weeks, on and off. He'd not really been eager to date since the divorce, and Lucifer was not a hook up kind of guy. He truly did want to be an anglerfish, he wanted to latch onto his partner until one or (ideally) both of them died. He was obsessive, but in a fun caring way that definitely didn't drive his ex wife away.

"Ugh..." Lucifer dragged his hand down his face, trying not to look at himself in the mirror, at the risk of seeing the purple under his eyes that seemed just ever present at this point in his exhausted life.

"Papa, look!" Charlie said, standing up from her little table he had in the living room for all her arts and crafts. She ran over, holding a big piece of paper with a bunch of scribbles on it, but in the middle was unmistakenly a jellyfish from the aquarium. Lucifer grabbed it in his hands with a big smile, marveling at it - his daughter was so talented!

"It's beautiful, Charchar!" Lucifer exclaimed, kissing her all over her head, to squeals of giggles. "Wow, look at that, what a perfect jellyfish! You really liked the aquarium, huh?"

Charlie nodded her head, eyes big and bright. "I like the one tank with the pink stuff, and the other one with the one thing, and the floppy little guys on the ground, and the-"

"Do you want to go again?" Lucifer asked her, and Charlie froze up for a second, processing the question, before she bolted for the door, grabbing her little red coat and boots. Lucifer wanted to cry, she was so cute.

Lucifer had packed in the car her stroller wagon, because Charlie had started to get tired last time by the end, and she'd made Lucifer carry her coat and stuffed toys the entire time. They'd been rolling around the aquarium for a bit, looking at the different displays, before Charlie got excited at the penguin exhibit. Not exactly what Lucifer considered aquarium animals, but he supposed it made as much sense as an otter or seal.

He lifted Charlie up so she could see the birds waddle around, and he was so distracted by her reaction, he didn't notice the shadow beside him.

"I hate penguins," the voice said, and Lucifer turned slightly to look at the man, before doing a double take, eyes going wide. Oh, oh it was the hot but not hot guy from before, Lucifer opened his mouth, before closing it, and then opened it again. "You doing your best fish impersonation? You really do want to be a male anglerfish, don't you?" He asked with a cheeky grin, and Lucifer finally got the chance to see his name tag.

Adam. Yeah, he looked like an Adam.

"Well, you know," Lucifer laughed nervously, maybe a little too enthusiastically, but he had a hard time gauging that sort of thing. "Why don't you like penguins?"

"The stink, and they're fucking sociopaths, like they're tiny demons. Everyone goes, oh they're so cute, oh look at the gay penguins, aren't they great? No, they're awful. Worse than dolphins. You know what necrophilia is?" Lucifer regretfully nodded his head, grimace spreading across his face.

"Like I said," Adam said with a huff, looking back over at the birds. "I don't like penguins."

"Reasonable," Lucifer said in a slightly higher tone, growing more aware the man was just... There. Standing next to him. No one else was around. Sure, maybe he was an employee talking to a client, but it didn't seem like that was it. "Do you like any birds, or is your thing just...fish?"

"Swans are cool," Adam said, glancing at him. "They are super loyal, they mate for life, and they're giant vicious shits."

"I like ducks," Lucifer said plainly, immediately regretting it.

"Don't get me started on ducks," Adam rolled his eyes, before pushing away from the banister. "I'm about to go run the touch tank in the kid's activity reef room, if your kiddo wants to come see. You can touch little rays, starfish, shrimp, sea cucumbers."

"...Sea cucumbers?" Lucifer asked, raising an eyebrow. He'd never heard of them, was that like a sea sponge? But Adam sent him a wicked grin in response to the question, like he'd been hoping Lucifer wouldn't know much about them.

"Yeah, they're long tubes basically, and if you rub them too much and they get overwhelmed, they shoot out their intestines in long white stands." Adam said with a wink, before he walked a few feet away, glancing back at Lucifer with a smirk. "You gunna come, or do you need to latch onto me to keep up?"

"Ha...ha," Lucifer wheezed out, eyes falling to Adam's backside, before Charlie tugged on his jacket.

"Can we go? I want to see the shrimps." Charlie asked, giving her best puppy eyes, which worked instantly of course, Lucifer was a bit of a push over when it came to her.

"Absolutely," Lucifer said, already planning on buying a yearly membership to the aquarium.

[itmightrain]

Joel de la Fuente (the narrator) did not have to make the First Terror sound so hot

[rubysunnday]

to leave you behind

a/n: let's not talk about how long its been or the fact this is likely (maybe) the last time i'll write for s&b...

summary: reader takes jurda parem instead of nina and kaz is losing it

To Y/N, they'd all accepted their imminent deaths far too easily. They'd done the impossible, they'd broken into the Ice Court. They were not about to die in a tank, a few hundred metres from the Ferolind and freedom.

She glanced over at Kaz. They'd hardly spoken since he'd fainted in the prison wagon. He'd been avoiding her gaze whenever they'd been together and barely acknowledging her existence.

Y/N was growing tired of it. She loved him, she'd come to accept that truth whilst wafting through the crowds at the Ice Court. Perhaps, deep down, hidden and suppressed, he loved her too.

But she had been waiting for too long. Her heart was aching and her mind was tired of the not knowing, of the constant hatred and love all at once.

Y/N looked from Kaz to the rest of their group. She loved them all in different ways. She trusted them all and knew that she'd gladly die for them all.

Which made the next decision that bit easier.

She turned to Kuwei. He noticed her gaze and looked back at her. Y/N didn't speak. The boys eyes widened.

"You don't understand -"

"I understand, Kuwei," Y/N said softly.

Kuwei reached into his pocket and pulled out the little leather pouch that had begun this whole heist.

"Y/N, what are you -" Kaz trailed off as his eyes fell upon the pouch, its rim stained with a rust-coloured powder.

"You're all out of tricks, Kaz," Y/N said, taking the pouch from Kuwei. She shrugged, a sad smile on her face. "What else is there?"

"No, Y/N, don't be ridiculous," Inej warned.

"Personally I think this is my greatest idea yet," Y/N replied, trying to hide her shaking hands. "Besides, not everyone gets addicted after the first dose."

"You can't risk it, Y/N!" Inej exclaimed.

"No, Y/N, she's right, it's not worth it," Nina said. "I'll do it."

"No," Matthias said, shaking his head furiously.

Y/N laughed tiredly. "I have no one to fight for me, Nina," she said softly, trying not to look at Kaz. "You do."

The voice echoed out from amongst the Fjerdan ranks, counting down, getting ever closer to the end. Y/N took a deep breath in. She mentally counted to three and then turned to look at Kaz.

She was aware of everyone else around them trying not to look. Y/N shifted her weight from right to left, bringing herself closer to Kaz. Their elbow brushed.

Y/N raised her hand and gently placed it against Kaz's cheek. She let her thumb trail over his cheekbone. He flinched, his eyes closing tightly. Y/N swallowed the disappointment.

"I expect ten percent of your cut for this, Kaz," she whispered.

Before anyone could realise what was happening, before Kaz could ground himself back into reality, Y/N tipped the parem into her mouth, forcing herself to swallow it in one stodgy swallow.

Instantly, her blood began to thrum, power surging through it, the fire making it grow hotter. She could hear her heartbeat, pounding away over and over and over again. Her cheeks were burning, sweat was running down the back of her neck.

Her fire was screaming to be released. All it needed was one spark.

No.

It didn't need any spark.

Y/N could feel it at her fingertips. It throbbed.

Her gaze moved across the Fjerdan soldiers. She could feel the gunpowder waiting to be lit. She could hear the pistols being loaded and cocked. She could feel the flicker of the flames dancing off the torches they held.

She tilted her head to the left. She focused her gaze on a bomb filled with gun powder.

Her fingers snapped. The fire shot across the space between them and hit the fuse, burning it up in seconds.

The bomb exploded.

Orange light lit up her face, she could feel the heat burning her skin. It was thrilling.

Everything was burning around her and Y/N could still feel fire burning through her veins, desperate to be released into the night.

Y/N took a deep breath in, letting the cold air burning her nose as she did so. As she exhaled, fire flowed from her fingers, lighting up the sky as it soared across and over the soldiers, sending them all scattering to the sides and into the water.

"Drive," Y/N said softly, looking ahead, staring at the fire as it burnt its way along the ground.

Kaz looked at her, a hint of fear in his eyes.

In the middle of the True Sea, there was no fire. Y/N's desire to burn the whole world to the ground had faded to a dull ache. Instead, it'd been replaced be a reluctant sense of acceptance for what was to come.

She was sat on the main deck of the boat, her legs dangling over the edge. It was quiet out here. Everyone seemed to be avoiding her and, when they did run into her, giving her pitiful looks.

Y/N sighed, tilting her head back, letting the ocean spray hit her skin.

"I'm presuming you can't just burn it out your system."

She didn't even react. "No. I'll be burning myself from the inside out."

Kaz stepped forward and pivoted on his heel so he had his back to the railing. He leant backwards, holding his cane loosely in his hand.

"I won't take anymore," Y/N said quietly.

"I wasn't going to mention it," Kaz replied.

"Then why are you here?" Y/N asked, turning her head so that she was looking at him.

Kaz didn't speak. He didn't acknowledge that Y/N had spoken for a while. Eventually, he looked down at her.

"I wanted to talk before it begun."

Y/N nodded, turning back to look at the water churning as they passed. "I fear you're too late."

Kaz glanced down. Her hand rested on the railings, shaking even as it sat there.

As the sun rose, the aches set in. Everything hurt, from her jaw to her toes. All Y/N could do was lie there, shaking, trying not to cry. Inej sat with her for a few hours, her cold fingers combing through her hair, massaging the back of her neck.

Nina, they had decided, was going to be a last resort. If she absolutely had to, she would lower Y/N's heartbeat enough that she went into a coma, allowing her body to work through the drug without causing her too much pain.

Every candle on the ship had been extinguished. Y/N could feel them burning even if they were the other end of the ship from her.

A few hours later, her skin began to burn. She lay on the bed, wearing the thinnest shirt she could find, unable to tolerate anything else touching her. All the blankets had been thrown to the side and her shirt was soaked in sweat. Y/N kept her eyes shut, trying to fall asleep, trying to pretend that what was happening to her wasn't happening.

When the tremors began, Matthias was sat beside her. In her delirous state she'd vaguely realised that they were all taking turns to sit with her, to watch her.

They're waiting for you to die.

"Do you need me to get Nina?" Matthias asked, gently dabbing her sweat covered forehead with a wet cloth.

Y/N shook her head. "No... not, not yet."

"Do you -"

"No," Y/N said, clutching her hands into fists. "No, I can't fall down into it, I can't Matthias, I can't."

"Okay, okay," Matthias whispered, dipping the cloth back into the water and then placing it back on her forehead.

Y/N didn't remember Matthias leaving. One minute he was next to her, the next he was gone and -

"Kaz?" Y/N whispered, turning her head to look at him.

"Y/N."

He'd undressed to just his shirt sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows. He still had his gloves on and his cane was resting against the wall next to him. But he was there.

"Why... what -"

"We're taking turns," Kaz said, his voice hoarse and quiet. "It was mine."

Y/N smiled but, as she did so, the aches overwhelmed her. Her bones felt like they might burst through her skin and her head was pounding, being squeezed through a vice. Her skin was burning, her face was on fire.

She groaned, arching her back as she tried to escape the pain, to free her sweat covered back from the mattress.

A cold hand landed on her arm, pushing her back onto the bed. Y/N groaned, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her heart was pounding, she could hear it.

"Kaz, I can't - can't do this, I can't -"

"Don't give up," Kaz said, leaning forward. His hands were bare, holding her arm down and combing through her hair. "Don't, promise me."

"I can't, Kaz, I can't," Y/N sobbed. "Please, please just -"

"No, don't you dare," Kaz replied, his voice firm. "You're not dying on my watch, Y/N."

Y/N cried, her back arching again, her nails digging into her palm.

The door opened. Kaz looked over, watching as Nina quietly walked in.

"I could hear her heartbeat getting faster," Nina replied, shutting the door behind her. "I wanted to check..."

Kaz looked back at Y/N. He turned to Nina. "Please, Zenik," he said quietly. "Just do it."

Nina stepped forward and sat on the edge of the bed. She took her wrist and pressed her fingers to her pulse point.

"Kaz," Y/N said, whimpering. "Kaz?"

"I'm here," he said, leaning forward. "I'm here."

"Stay till the end," she whispered, her tremors slowing down, her eyes growing unfocused.

"Y/N -"

"Promise me."

"I promise you," Kaz whispered, hand stroking her hair back from her face. He watched her eyes close as Nina gradually slowed her heart down. Y/N's eyes closed and her grip on Kaz's hand weakened, her body going limp as Nina put her body into a coma.

Kaz held tight to Y/N's hand. "I'm not going anywhere, Y/N."

[lovely-peace]

Lovely?

Summary: You don't like the marauders. You don't talk and don't even look at them. But as you visit your friend in the hospital wing you encounter a certain boy with brown hair, scars and this lovely eyes.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: Low self esteem, past bullying?, This is no bully! Marauders fic!!

Part 1 Part 3

"Hey, do you want to study for Transfiguration together?"

A normal day. It should have been. But ever since I was asked who I would date, I've been hearing giggles and whispers. And now James is standing in front of Amy and me. Ready to finish something. I don't know what yet, but it's going to hurt.

Because it will be a joke of theirs.

"Why should we?" I go straight on the offensive. Leave fears behind and intimidate them.

Sirius, who was standing behind James, looked to the side to stifle a laugh. That kind of upset me.

"Well, in the last lesson you had... We thought we could help each other."

Oh. My mistake. That they laughed about. Learning. Together. Actually, they just want to smile at my stupidity. SMILE.

"Amy doesn't even have Transfiguration." I hissed, looking the boy in front of me in the eye for the first time. He looked almost uncomfortable.

This boy I rode to Hogwarts with in the same wagon. And who now feels too cool to remember my name. I'm just a joke that you crack a few times and then forget.

"Which is why, unfortunately, I have to say goodbye and go upstairs. Important subjects are waiting for me!" Amy tapped my shoulder and I was about to thank her inwardly until- "That's why I'm leaving this sweetie here with you, okay?"

Peter looked up from his book for the first time. He was sitting on the couch by the fire.

In the common room of Gryffindor, it was not uncommon for people to fight over this space. Peter snatched it early enough so that Remus, who looked very ill that morning, just sat on the chair at the table next to it.

Peter was probably just as disappointed that Amy left as I was, if I interpreted his expression correctly.

"Amy," I whispered to her, "what are you doing?"

She raised her eyebrows, rolled her eyes and sighed briefly. And I understood. She wanted me to give them a chance.

I looked at her with begging eyes and screamed at her in my mind not to leave me here alone.

"So...?" James stood there like a boy waiting for his mother's permission.

And I wasn't going to give it to him.

"Sorry, Jarry, but I was planning on studying for other subjects with Amy today. So if you'll excuse us." What did I just say?

"Oo-," James looked to his friends while Sirius laughed out loud, "-okay?"

I didn't look at Amy and just stomped faree upstairs to our room.

Amy followed me, but not without letting out a sigh of disappointment.

~~

"What was that about?" My voice was a little louder than usual. "I thought we agreed that we didn't like the four of them?"

Amy groaned and threw herself on her bed. "I never said that. I meant that they can be assholes sometimes, that's all."

"But they just were assholes?"

I also sat down on my bed and looked out of the window. The Hufflepuff team was playing quidditch.

"How were they assholes in any way, please? James just asked us if we wanted to study with them in the common room."

I could hear Amy starting to get angry.

"You know what he meant. He only asked because I said something completely stupid in Transfiguration the day before yesterday and everyone had a laugh. And now he wanted to hear more of it."

Amy had gone quiet. Then she snorted loudly. "Jesus Christ."

"What?!" As I turned around, two piercing eyes looked into me.

"Can you please stop painting the devil on the wall for once? You sound worse than Cassandra!"

Now I snorted.

But Amy wasn't finished yet. "You're so afraid of being ridiculed that you're becoming an asshole yourself!"

The sun was setting. And the moon slowly rose.

"Why are you so sure that the four of them are making fun of you?"

I hated that tears were welling up in my eyes. "That's how it always is! Suddenly all these people are nice to you, who didn't even know who you were before, to lure you into safety, but in reality they're blaspheming and laughing at you. It's always like that!"

Amy shook her head.

"No, it's just always like that in your head. There's a chance that these people just want to get to know you better."

Amy took her DADA textbook and turned to the other wall. "To exclude this opportunity from the outset is not only a mistake, but also a missed opportunity to make new friends."

I looked up at the full moon. I felt as if he was out there suffering with me.

You understand me, don't you?

Probably not.

~~

The next morning, Amy was still mad at me. I couldn't blame her. What I said already sounded pathetic.

But so far it had always been the truth.

It was unusually quiet at breakfast. Amy ate almost nothing and hurried to her tray.

We had different subjects at the beginning of the day, but at lunch Amy was nowhere to be seen. There were whispers again and I wanted to scream.

And it was only in charms that I was told she had been taken to the hospital wing. 

That was not uncommon for Amy. Amy was very fragile. Amy always put on a very strong front, also to help me. But the truth was that stress really affected her and at one point she almost fell over sick.

Was it because of our argument? I don't know. But I certainly felt guilty.

~~

After class, I hurried to the hospital wing and let myself be led to her bed.

She looked almost peaceful as she slept. I carefully sat down next to her and took her hand. She was sweaty and cool at the same time.

Madam Pomfrey explained to me that Amy had been under a lot of stress lately and had eaten something bad. Then she went to the next bed and talked with the visitors there.

Visitors with... familiar voices?!

"Oh, please, you can't expect us to just leave him here alone?" Was that Sirius?

"Yes, I must. You know he needs his rest now. So shoo." Madam Pomfrey sounded a bit annoyed.

"We can stay here quietly!" That was James. Ironically loud.

"No, Mr. Potter, you cannot. So, gentlemen. Out!"

I saw out of the corner of my eye how Madam Pomfrey shooed several people outside. But who was behind the curtain of the bed? Whom were they visiting?

The curtain didn't cover the whole bed. In fact, it was only drawn on my side. Quietly, I got up and tried to get a quick look at the person. I took a cautious step to the side and—

There layed Remus. A pretty battered Remus, wrapped in bandages.

Suddenly, the curtain was pulled back and I stood there as if caught red-handed.

Remus looked at me in surprise. His look was somehow different than usual and I imagined he took a deep breath before he spoke.

"Hi." ... "Hi."

His body was even worse wrapped up than I had seen from the side. He was sitting upright and his upper body was full of bandages. His face also had scratches but his eyes were still so deep-

I stared at him. For far too long.

I quickly sat down next to Amy, who was still asleep.

Remus cleared his throat. "Is Amy very unwell?"

Somehow I wasn't prepared for a conversation with him. Not with one of the four. Not with Remus.

"According to Madam Pomfrey, it's just stress. She just needs to get some rest and then she should feel better." I was almost whispering, my voice was so quiet. Nothing compared to yesterday.

"That's good. I hope she gets better soon. Has anything bad happened?" I looked up at him. His eyes were so gentle, as if he really cared. "Something that's really stressing her out?"

When he noticed my look, he looked away. To my disappointment. "But actually, it's none of my business-"

"We had a fight." Why did I tell him that? "I worried her again."

I looked at Amy. Her face wasn't quite so pale and her hand, which I was holding, wasn't quite so sweaty.

"Oh." Remus' voice was very quiet. As if he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. As if he was worried to say the wrong thing.

"And why are you lying here? What happened to you?" It was only when I looked at him that I realized the question was a bit rude.

"If you want to tell me," I added.

He just sighed and suddenly looked so far away. "It was an accident."

I waited for him to tell me more. He didn't.

It stayed quiet between us for a long time. I could feel his gaze from the side, but somehow it didn't bother me a bit. I almost felt safe.

Suddenly he asked me: "Why did you argue?"

I looked into his eyes and almost wanted to tell him everything. I looked at Amy and borrowed her words. "I was an asshole."

He tilted his head and smiled cautiously. "Somehow I can't imagine that."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"Why?"

"Well, you... It's not like you at all."

I continued to look at him. He continued to look at me.

"What do you mean?"

"You're usually so... Lovely."

Lovely? He saying I was lovely?

I had to laugh. He looked away.

"Me? You don't know me then." I giggled softly. "Besides, anyone can be an asshole, no matter how sweet the person still is."

He looked outside. The moon was up. He had that look again. "Yeah, I guess you're right about that."

It was quiet again after that. I heard soft footsteps outside and my anxiety wanted me to leave. So I stood up and was about to say goodbye to Remus as he-

"I want to know."

"What?"

He suddenly looked into my eyes so intensely that I felt dizzy.

"I want to know you properly."

I didn't know what to say and just looked at him as he continued.

"I want to know what goes through your mind when you see me us."

His gaze moved away from me. "I want to know why you hate us so much."

My whole world suddenly spun and I was in the middle of it. What was he saying? What did he mean, why was he even talking to me? What was going on here, why was he even here? And why did he call me lovely? What did he mean?

I wanted to say something. Something about... What actually?

Somehow I couldn't get anything out of me and was stuck in this spiral of trying to say something and figure out what to say. I opened my mouth, as-

"Remus, we're here!" James' voice tried to sound quiet but was unmistakable. Just like the footsteps of the two boys walking towards his bed.

When I saw them, so many things came back to me. Why I didn't talk to Remus.

"Are you feeling better? Remus -" Sirius faltered when he saw me. He looked between me and Remus and then grinned at me.

"Oh hello."

He turned to James now and 'whispered' to him. "Prongs, let's go and give these two some time to themselves-"

Remus cleared his throat and pointed at Amy who was lying next to me. Sirius fell silent.

"I'd better go now." I said in a very quiet voice again. James and Sirius even left me alone, but I heard their voices before I closed the door behind me.

"So, did she talk to you?" "What was going on with her?" "Is there something-"

The door slammed behind me and my head seemed to explode with questions.

[socksracoon10]

Pirate

Pairing: Will Turner x F!Reader, Jack Sparrow x F!Reader (Platonic) Read The Second Part: Not Just A Pirate

That imbecile had left you with Barbossa, and the thought of having to deal with his monkey's stupid chattering had nearly driven you to madness. Seizing any opportunity available, you had found yourself a small boat and began your search for Sparrow. You weren't expecting much from him, considering you were technically a part of his crew - the rest were with Barbossa. Not that it made any difference, though, because at the moment you were without a captain and unfortunately in the eyes of a few redcoats who eyed you, warily. They drew their rifles closer to themselves, marching over with some fire in their eyes.

"Oh, curse me," You muttered underneath your breath, throwing your hat into the water below, before carefully stepping onto a dock. Your foot dangled helplessly onto the boat, almost causing you to lose your balance. Gesturing for a soldier to come help you, you grabbed hold of his arm and hoisted yourself up onto the wooden platforms and sighed in relief, thanking them with false kindness.

"Enough, enough," One of them grumbled, rolling his eyes. He sneezed, the droplets of his mucus flying past you as you cringed at the sight. Despite being a pirate, you still had at least a little bit of hygiene left in you during your days as a "proper" lady. "What brings a girl like you to Port Royal, especially in that poor excuse of a boat?"

You followed the soldier's fingers to the vessel, noticing the way a few splinters poked out from the oars. It was a ghastly sight and a miracle that it had managed to take you this far without sinking. Shaking your head, you came up with the best excuse you could think of,

"I was robbed by a pirate. I was hoping at least one of you would show some mercy and help me find that treacherous man." 

"Was it Jack Sparrow?" Another soldier chimed in, his voice so delicate as he uttered the name.

"Precisely!" You whispered, excitedly as you wriggled your eyebrows, "Have you seen him lurking about here? I ought to give him a piece of mind!"

"Now, now, listen here, you don't have to do anything," The third soldier cried out with an exasperated sigh, "As misfortunate as your encounter with Sparrow must be, I implore you to go find yourself an inn for the time being." He had this air of haughtiness in his voice, one that made your frown deepen into a snarl. Biting the inside of your cheek, you pushed any emerging ill comments at him down to your boots and merely nodded your head in response.

Pushing past the soldiers, you trailed up the staircase to the cobbled streets of Port Royal and found a group of more soldiers running down the streets from The Governor's quarters. Frowning, your faintly heard the mention of Jack Sparrow among one of the redcoats that passed by you and you instantly figured out what was going on.

Crossing through an alley, you found a familiar set of beads dangling from an individual's head, hiding behind a wagon; he occasionally lifted his head to peer for any danger, unaware of your presence behind him.

"AHEM," You crossed your arms, glaring at him. Either he was ignoring you on purpose, or he was incredibly deaf and stupid. Rolling your eyes, you slapped the back of his head and watched him hurl into the wagon with a yelp of pain. He turned around on his heels, swiftly, narrowing his eyes for a moment to scan your face. Upon recognition, he grinned and held his hands up in the air,

"(Y/N)! Sweetheart, what are you doing here?" He exclaimed, holding onto your hands. You wriggled out of his grasps, before slapping him across his face, sharply.

"You moron! You left me aboard Barbossa's ship! After everything we've been through, I thought you were a brother to me! Family! You've decided to lurk about and be the prying little-"

"Whoa... now, love, we don't have much time to listen to your usual rants, do we?" Jack interjected your thoughts, raising a finger up. He swayed towards you, looking over your shoulder to ensure that there were no redcoats nearby. His eyes then glanced back towards you, "Listen, I think we should split ways and then meet up back at the docks. What do ya say?"

"I say no," You hiss, "I don't trust your words. We go together, or I'll throw you to the soldiers myself!"

"Darlin', you're a pirate too. You're only doing yourself a disservice here," Jack scoffed, and you clutched onto his collar,

"Try me. You cross me one more time, I won't care if you're my captain or like a brother to me, I shall drive my sword through your head and watch you scream for mercy." You threatened him, before shoving him off. Jack dusted his coat, creasing out the new wrinkles you caused with what he assumed was an indifferent expression on his face - he couldn't hide the slight fear your words caused him. 

As you extended your hand out for Jack to accept, the thunderous footsteps of the redcoats just around the corner caused you both to pick your feet up and run. Jack had hopped over among the roofs, and you had run inside a blacksmith's keep. Grabbing a sword from the sleeping blacksmith, you were set to head back out when you had noticed a shadow emerge from the other side of the door. 

"Oh, bollocks," You whisper, in a panicked tone, leaping behind a wooden table somewhere far enough for cover. You heard the footsteps of someone patter across the room, shifting through some equipment before they loudly whispered,

"Not where I left you..." 

Ah, so it was a man. And judging by the sound of his voice, he was pretty young. You peered, carefully, from the table and noticed his ponytail, and his well-fitted yet a bit dirty clothes. He wasn't bad-looking, surprisingly. He tapped his foot, impatiently, before drawing out his own sword and turned to your hiding spot. Sighing in defeat, you stood up from the cramped place and stretched your arms with a lazy yawn, stalking over to him.

"You're a pirate," He spat, his sword dragging up and down the air as he gestured at you.

"I'm also a lady. Now, this can go two ways. Either you let me go and I find myself back to Jack Sparrow, or I kill you... and find myself back to Jack Sparrow." You reasoned, forcing a smile at him as you made your way to the exit. Within seconds, you felt the tip of the blade against your chin, turning your head to face him. He had a deathly glare on his face but his eyes spoke of something else. Seeing that there was no way out of this without blood being shed, you raised an eyebrow,

"Come now, love, must there be hostility? Fine then, have it your way." You spat, before dragging your sword and jabbing it towards his stomach. He deflected my attack, and swung his sword around towards your neck. Dodging backwards, you lunged forward and elbowed his gut before parrying the thrust of his sword. He fell back for a moment, catching his breath as he shook his head,

"That's cheating." He breathed out between pants.

"Well, that's life, and now help a lady out and let her escape." You snickered, prying his fingers off his sword.

"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken... you're a pirate." The young man smirked, and the front door swung open with Jack at the hands of the redcoats, a sheepish look attached to his stupid face. Glancing back to the now standing young man, you found yourself handcuffed and dragged off with Jack besides you. 

William didn't fail to notice your menacing glare as you were taken away and he let out a proud smirk at the sight. And yet, something felt wrong. In all the years as a blacksmith's apprentice, nothing had excited him as much as this encounter had. He turned to the burning furnace, his thoughts fixated on seeing you.

For one more time, at least.

[hanasnx]

⋆˖⁺‧₊𓆩𓆩 ❝ stranded. ❞ 𓆪𓆪₊‧⁺˖⋆

-ˏˋ꒰ CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE - ! ꒱ PART ONE ✩ PART TWO ✩ PART THREE MINORS DNI 18+ SUMMARY: be a part of the story! vote on the poll at the bottom. WARNINGS: your vote affects how the story continues | the winning decision affects how the story ends | f!reader | eventual smut | semi-established relationship | romance | suggestive | eventual conflict.

! ── PREVIOUSLY: You and ANAKIN SKYWALKER are stranded on a seemingly deserted planet. He asks you how to proceed because he trusts your judgement.

You consider his question, rubbing your bottom lip thoughtfully with your finger. The responsibility he’s given you is not one you take lightly, and you phase through the options until you decide the smartest route. “Where’s your communicator?”

Anakin's lips press together as he nods. It’s uncharacteristically submissive of him to relinquish control like that, and part of you wonders if this is his way of calming your nerves caused by the situation. He retrieves the communicator in question from his sea of robes, and when his gloved hands brings it to both of your views, it sparks.

He flinches, protecting his eyes from the device if it sees fit to explode in his hand. Fingers fiddle nimbly with its buttons, and its silence doesn’t bode well for your plans. You approach him, watching the little mechanism sit idly in the palm of his hand. “Can you repair it?” you ask, peering up at him. He doesn’t look at you.

“We’ll have to find out.”

As he works on it, you lose track of time, but the sun does not forgive. It beats down on the two of you as you try to shade yourselves in the minuscule shadow of your totaled ship. He remains in his uniform, and beads of sweat fatly roll down his forehead. That concentrated crease in his brow makes him look older than he actually is, glaring down at the communicator as he pinches wiring together with his meticulous touch. You swallow, mouth dry, and you incline into his direction.

“Anakin, maybe you should shed some layers—“ you begin to suggest, laying a familiar hand on his arm. He tenses under your contact, and perks up at attention to hear someone call out.

“You two look a long way from home.” a gutty and baritone voice leers, and Anakin’s jaw sets. His lightsaber is hidden from view by his robings. “Did’yer ship take a tumble?” The joking tone goes unappreciated as the two of you raise your heads to see a native of the planet. Relief washes over you that you aren't alone, but Anakin does not seem convinced, wary this local is unfriendly. He's seated high up on an animal with flat feet and spindly legs, one you don't recognize at all. Its trunk is stout, and wiggles absently as it disinterestedly awaits its owner to decide on whether or not to pass on. The native wears thin clothes with a strap across his chest, the bag of water sloshing at his side as he swings to a halt against his hip.

"Engine failure." Anakin replies, vague and curt. It's a lie, and one you bite your tongue on correcting. Your eyes meander the large stranger, a flat bedded wagon with heaps of fabrics is hauled by his mount, but you know those veils are just to conceal whatever he's got underneath them. "Is there a town around here?"

The local leans forward on his saddle, propping himself up on the grip with an amused and removed grin. "Naw, not for miles." Out of the corner of your view, Anakin's hand slowly disappears under his robe. "Why don't you climb aboard? I'll take you in. S'long as I get what's left of yer ship."

Anakin glances to you, but ultimately decides he'll work on the communicator during the ride. His saber remains clipped to his belt, hidden. However, his senses aren't dulled. There's something about this stranger that tells him he can't get too comfortable, but this is progress. Regardless if there's a town at all. The two of you collect the emergency supplies from the vessel, and climb aboard the wagon. It sinks into the sand from the extra weight, but when he spurs his mount on, she doesn't have a problem in tugging it.

"Sorry I didn't introduce myself, the name's Drice. S'lucky I came through, followed the smoke trail of your ship. Can smell it on the two of you." You and Anakin exchange eye contact, silently agreeing he'll be talkative the entire trip. "Yep, this nose never lies." His finger raises to tap-tap the side of his nostril. "What were y'all headed for? Before, y'know, the 'engine failure.'" You furrow your brows at the way he quotes the statement, as if he's suspicious Anakin was dishonest. "I could'a taken a look at it if it didn't have such a rough landing. S'lucky I want the parts. I'm a mechanic by trade."

Anakin doesn't respond, instead fishes out the communicator to continue his inspection. Its guts spill out, and he carefully pools it onto his lap. "The Adega system." he replies, again another lie.

Drice emits a noise of confusion. "That's a long way to travel for a ship that size."

"That's likely why we crashed." Anakin responds, and you can hear in his voice that growing annoyance.

The reticence from the back of his vehicle unnerves the local, and he continues to try to muster up some conversation. "You two are real cute together, y'know. A real pair. How long have y'all been together?"

Anakin's gaze flickers to you.

@HANASNX 2024 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.

[waywardrose]

SIDETRACKED

stranger things

eddie munson x reader

rated: teen | word-count: 900

for @theold-ultraviolence

mechanic!eddie, gn!reader, slice of domestic life, complete fluff

-

Eddie's late getting home. You turn the oven off, yet leave the casserole in to keep it warm. He's never late. He always clocks out at six and is home within fifteen minutes. According to the clock above the sink, it's nearly 6:45. Something is wrong. You eye the phone, debating if you should call the garage. Maybe something last-minute happened.

Like an emergency tow. Or a quick flat-tire fix. Or a gaggle of geese had waddled into one of the bays — again.

He'd called you that first time, laughing and insisting you had to see it. When you'd pulled up, geese were honking and flapping and pooping all over the garage floor. A giggling Eddie crouched behind a station wagon while Wayne rubbed at the seat of his coveralls and Jeff waved a dirty rag at a couple of unimpressed geese. You saved the day by turning on the hose and threatening the gaggle with cold water.

Eddie proclaimed you their knight in shining armor and the slayer of winged beasts. You'd kissed him and told him to bring home dinner. He'd been home at 6:30 with a pizza and a six-pack of Miller.

You walk to the front window and check the street. The old lady down the road sweeps her front porch. Across the way, two kids' bikes lie tangled on the stoop.

Fuck this.

You march to the kitchen phone and dial the garage. The line rings and rings and rings. Wayne and Jeff must've already left for the day. With a sigh, you hang up. If they'd left, Eddie had as well.

For a distraction, you pull the casserole out of the oven. One edge is darker than the others because of the extra cooking time. You pick off the dark bits, flinging them into the sink for later clean-up, and cover the dish in foil to steam it.

That took a whopping five minutes. It's now almost 7:00.

Maybe there'd been an accident. Hopefully, not one Eddie had been in. He had enough trauma for one lifetime. Maybe it's road construction, though you hadn't heard about any��

The front door bangs open. You spin, brandishing the serving spoon. Eddie stands in the doorway, boots grubby and top of his overalls knotted around his lean waist. He raises a stained hand, the other hidden behind his back.

"Where the hell have you been?" you demand as you shake the spoon at him.

"Sorry." He winces and lowers his hand. "I know I should've called."

"Damn straight, you should've called."

"I left work a little late. And, uh, well… I got sidetracked."

"Sidetracked."

That isn't anything new with Eddie. He's a menace when it comes to cleaning alone. He'd volunteer to dust and neaten the living room while you went grocery shopping. When everything was in piles, he'd discover something cool, or something he'd forgotten, and focus on that for the rest of the afternoon. You'd come home to a bigger mess more than once.

He holds out his hand for the spoon.

"Trade ya."

You frown.

"What?" you ask, though you offer the spoon.

His calluses rasp over your skin as he takes it. He sweeps his other hand from behind his back to present a bouquet of orange ditch lilies. He'd used one of his hair-ties to keep the long stems together.

A tightness you hadn't been aware of before uncoils in your chest. Your eyes prickle with unexpected tears.

You whisper, "They're beautiful," and rub a silky petal tip between two fingers.

His voice is rough as he says, "I didn't mean to scare you."

You shake your head and give him a smile.

Silly boy. Sweet, silly boy — the one you fell in love with years ago.

He spreads his arms with a self-deprecating grin and shrug. As if to say he knows he's beyond hope, or useless, or incompetent.

You scoff. "Oh, shut up."

You wrap your arms around him. His old Metallica t-shirt smells like sweat and fresh air. He hugs you tight. The lilies' petals caress your neck, making you shiver.

You pull back enough to look into his warm eyes.

"Thank you for the flowers."

He sways you a little.

"Next time, I'll get you roses."

"Oh? Going to ruin some poor lady's garden?"

"For you? Of course."

You thump your palm on his waist with a delighted laugh. He grins roguishly and moves in to kiss you. Your lips meet, and it's still a spark. You've been burning for him since that first date, that first kiss. Your whole body heats at his touch.

The serving spoon clunks on the floor. His hand presses at your lower back. His lips are as soft as petals and hot like embers. He kisses you harder, deeper. His clever tongue slides against yours.

Urgency like a fever has you pulling him farther into the house. He kicks the front door closed, a grin against your lips. You take the bouquet from him and place it by the sink.

Dinner can wait.

[lassieposting]

So in the wake of my post on Astarion and cptsd, have another concept I've been thinking about lately:

Tav/Durge (or an origin character, but I'm gonna use Tav because there are so many potential ships) using magic on him - with his permission, of course, they're not a complete monster - to help him cope with the symptoms.

I feel like there's a lot of potential here? But I haven't really seen anyone using it in fics, so. Here are some ideas I've been turning over.

Spells Tav Can Use On Astarion:

Calm Emotions: magically subdue intense emotions.

So.

I have a fond headcanon that while Astarion is still in survival mode during the game - the worst symptoms of his cptsd are on lockdown and he's mostly able to keep it together well enough to be functional and clear-headed - there is an incident where Tav sees him have a panic attack.

Like. Maybe they're attempting to sneak around patrolling guards in enemy territory, or edging around hostile wildlife in the Underdark. They're alone, the party split into two pairs with different tasks, and some threat is headed their way. They don't want to raise any alarms, so Tav drags Astarion back into a narrow crevice in the rock, or a chest loaded onto a supply wagon, or something, to hide until the threat has passed by.

And. Astarion has never mentioned that he's claustrophobic. He doesn't show weakness unless he's forced to, and at this point, he hasn't told Tav about being sealed in a tomb for a whole year. So the first they know of it is when they're crushed up against him in a cramped hiding spot and they realise he's shaking. They try to calm him, but his eyes have gone unfocused and glassy and he's starting to hyperventilate, a wounded animal noise brewing in his chest.

And Tav has to make a split second decision, because he's going to get them noticed. So they try to comfort him and instinctively cast Calm Emotions - and it works. It cuts the panic attack off, and once the threat is audibly moving away from them, they're able to emerge and carry on undetected.

He's angry, on and off for a while, that Tav used magic on him without his consent, even once he understands what they did and why. But the thing is, it did work. It helped him get his fear under control. So down the line, as they get closer, and he begins to really trust Tav, he agrees to them using that one on him when he really needs it, when he's crippled with the panic of 200 years' worth of obediently withstood torture sessions, when he feels like dying is the only way to escape the fear. They're both aware though that Calm Emotions is a deferral, not a cure - it won't help him work through the panic attacks, and it won't stop him having them.

Heroism: instill the caster or an ally with courage

I like to think Tav uses this one on him a few times as the group approaches the city, when he's fretting about being back within Cazador's reach. They're not ✨sleeping together✨, but they are sleeping together - he has an open invitation to share Tav's tent at night, just to cuddle and rest a little easier with someone he trusts close by to watch over him. They know he's scared, and they know he doubts the group's ability to protect him if Cazador tries to take him back. Heroism here is essentially a stand-in for anti-anxiety medication - it stops him ruminating on what-if scenarios the group is determined not to ever let happen.

Enthrall: capture the attention of a creature, making it look at you

Another one that could be useful in a panic attack situation, though it's far too similar to Cazador's control to ever use on him spontaneously - it would need to be something suggested, discussed and agreed upon while he was clearheaded, to see if it was useful for him. Making him focus on Tav stops him focusing on whatever is causing him to nosedive. It's the, "Astarion, hey, look at me, just focus on me, breathe with me," spiel taken to a level that actually yanks him out of his fear spiral when just their voice won't do it.

Dancing Lights: creates magical orbs of light that brighten an area

Sometimes, Astarion struggles to switch off and unwind at bedtime. The "trying to get to sleep" gap can be a fucking horror show when you have a condition like cptsd - everything goes quiet in preparation for sleep, so it's the perfect time for all your intrusive thoughts and ruminations and spiralling to dogpile you, the way it struggles to do when you're compulsively keeping busy in the daytime.

A Tav who can create Dancing Lights is essentially giving him Candy Crush. A mindless, no-complex-thought-required distraction that shuts up all those bad thoughts long enough for his eyes to start closing.

Light: makes an object shed light in a small area

He's not afraid of the dark. The dark is a vampire's natural habitat, after all. But he is, in the early days, sometimes afraid of what might be in the dark - he has nightmares of Cazador lurking around the outskirts of the camp, waiting to snatch him up. Shifting shadows against tent fabric can warp and twist into horrors to a groggy, fresh-from-a-nightmare mind. He would rather die again than ever ask Tav to magic him a nightlight. But if an object bespelled to cast a soft, grounding glow inside his tent happened to be left beside his bedroll, well, finders keepers and all that. Of course he uses the damn thing, darling, if he leaves it off for one night Gale will probably eat it.

Detect Thoughts: telepathically link to unprotected minds and hear the thoughts of targeted creatures while talking to them.

I like to think this mostly happens when he's struggling to express something and getting frustrated.

Sometimes, it's a vocabulary issue. Faerûn is a medieval-esque setting - Astarion doesn't have terms like "trigger" or "dissociation" or "flashback" to express what's going on in his head. He has to cobble together not-quite-right-but-close-enough explanations out of the words he does have, and that shit is hard.

Other times, it's because he's trying to recount a memory that gets stuck in his throat or between his teeth. Because he can't bear to voice the humiliation, or the dehumanization, or the violence that goes with it. Putting it to words makes it real in a way that he can't deal with anymore. He wants Tav to know what's distressing him, but he just...can't say it. He can't.

And once upon a time, he would've just shown them through the tadpole, but that's no longer an option, so Detect Thoughts it is. Tav can either hear him, or he can visualise the memory and show it to them - or flashes of it, anyway. And it can be a quiet understanding between them - no stumbling over his words, no tears, no shaking voice.

Hold Person: hold a target humanoid in place.

Paralyzing Ray: paralyzes the target.

Otiluke's Resilient Sphere: enclose a target in a sphere of shimmering force...blocking all incoming and outgoing damage

These wouldn't really come into play until months or even years postgame, once Astarion is safe and settled and finally processing all the horrors he's been through - if he has an era where the flashbacks are so vivid, he might not recognise Tav, or might even mistake them for Cazador or Godey. The era where, sometimes, through no fault of his own, he might be a danger to himself and others, Tav included. What's a fantasy protagonist to do with him, when he's beyond reason? Pop him in the rage cage - where he can't hurt himself or anyone else - until he comes back to himself.

Spells Tav Has Tried And Failed To Use On Astarion:

Cure Wounds: heal wounds through touch

Probably the first spell they ever try on him, and one he could've sorely benefited from. The extra impetus to start associating touch with pain relief instead of pain itself would've done him a lot of good. But, according to the wiki, undead are immune to virtually all healing spells, which is a deeply angsty bummer.

Sleep: make a conscious creature fall into a deep slumber

As a high elf, he's immune to sleep magic, but he gets the elven equivalent of night terrors, and days on end of broken rest will leave anyone drained and exhausted. Tav has absolutely offered to try and put him to "proper" sleep, a deep sleep, so he won't dream. I've never actually played dnd, so I don't know how much leeway there is here for creative interpretation of immunity, there are certainly ways you could be creative with it - maybe his fey ancestry protects him from being put to sleep specifically in an attack context, or from being put to sleep unexpectedly, or by unfamiliar and potentially hostile magic. Maybe, if he knows it's happening and his innate magic recognises the magic of the caster, he's able to lean into it. Like the difference between being shot from behind with a tranquilizer gun and popping an ambien before bedtime.

Also! These could even be scrolls! It amuses me to think of Tav popping over to the pharmacist Gale's tower in Waterdeep to get Astarion's monthly anxiety prescription scrolls of Calm Emotions

[lordgrimwing]

How Elrond Saw Celebrian

(and fell madly in love)

Elrond sat securely on the bough of a great tree, nestled comfortably in its leaves. He held a fresh raspberry in his hands, juice spread across his sticky face. Yes, he held a single raspberry and it took both his hands to do it, for he was very small. So small, in fact, that on particularly unfortunate days, a strong gust of wind could pick him up and carry him away, leaving him stranded far from the lovely trees and mushrooms he and the other tiny fae critters called home. Blown far away, he spent hours—days even!—bumbling his way through the forest, up and down all the little swells and falls in the rich loam, stopping to bounce on the new mushrooms, until he eventually found his way home. It was a lot of work, being tiny.

Elrond, of course, did not see himself as small. The fae were perfectly sized; the rest of the world, particularly the speaking races that made such hubbub and noise, was just very large. Those big folk weren’t considerate when they came traipsing through the forest with their horses and wagons and pounding feet, so the fae kept their distance and hid at the first sound of them, ducking under mushrooms or inside trees, and muttering and grumbling about how ‘didn’t that just ruin a perfectly wonderful afternoon’ and ‘now all the berries will be gone’.

Most of them did, anyway. He wasn’t quite sure why everyone insisted on griping. He only hid because that’s what everyone else did—and wouldn’t it be so strange if he was the only one out and about? He’d never met one of the big folk himself, but he figured they couldn’t be much worse than that one mouse who climbed into his freshly made mushroom home and insisted on raising a whole litter of babies there with him. The baby mice were quite cute and he’d hold one on his lap until they got too big and ate the mushroom. Even if they were just like those mice, he fancied he’d like to meet one someday, maybe talk to them if he felt very brave.

But there was always time later for ‘someday’, so when the cry came up that big folk were approaching, he joined the mad dash for the closest shelter. Stuffing the raspberry into his mouth, he tumbled from the bough. He bounced off two of the orange mushrooms growing in a spiral around the tree before landing on the ground. 

He landed a little harder than he expected. He still hadn’t quite figured out how to estimate things like that and everyone else made it look so easy. Juice dribbled from between his lips, his mouth too full to close and the impact causing most of the fruit’s drupelets to burst. Shaking off the fall, he ran for the nearest unoccupied bell-shaped mushroom cap. His arms pumped furiously as he crossed the distance and he giggled a little with excitement.

He dove under cover. He had just enough time to twist around and peek under the frilly cap, the spore gills tickling his hair, before the big folk came into view. He caught his breath, choking down the berry so he wouldn’t be distracted by the sweet juice as he watched.

Huge horses came first, their hooves thudding into the ground so hard it made his teeth chatter and his head shake as they cleared hundreds of his own steps in just a single, elegant stride. Elves accompanied the horses, some riding and most walking by them, easily keeping pace. 

He gasped quietly in excitement, gripping the mushroom with his sticky hands. They stood so unbelievably tall, always graceful despite their height, with long hair pale like artemisia or dark as the inside of a rabbit’s den or bright as solidago in summer. Their voices rang clear and deep, though not nearly so deep as the men or dwarves he’d seen. He thought, if he were brave enough, he might like to sit out on a log or a sun-warmed stone and listen to such voices for hours on end. Of all the big folk, he loved seeing elves the most.

He watched them draw near, the ground vibrating as they came nearer and nearer, closer than they’d ever come before. This was too exciting, and he gave a little dance where he hid. 

Two horses passed and on them rode two elf-ladies. One had light hair held back from her face by a band of woven metal. Her eyes twinkled with light, like sunlight in the thousand droplets of dew on the spider’s web in the morning. She rode with a straight back, her head high, and she had an air of awe and might to her, unlike any creature he’d ever seen. A green stone glittered on her chest. When her gaze moved slightly in his direction, he trembled with fear, clutching the mushroom cap tighter and wishing he’d tucked himself away somewhere stronger, like the old woodpecker nest he’d found the other day.

Elrond might have looked away then, thinking tiny and invisible thoughts in hopes that she would not notice him, had he not seen her companion.

She did not ride so tall upon her horse, her back and shoulders loose and relaxed as though sitting atop the massive animal was as natural to her as breathing. Her hair tumbled down her back like running water, yet pale as ice crystals on the sides of the streams in winter. Her face reflected the soft light filtering down through the green leaves of the trees, and her smile glowed brightest of all. The sight of her made him forget his terror of the first.

“My mind is made up, mother. You shall not change it,” she said, and oh how her voice made the birds’ calls and the insects’ songs hollow and tuneless in comparison. Her voice alone might command his heart to beat and his lungs to fill with air. He flopped to the ground, falling out from under the mushroom’s cover, careless of if any elves took note of him, wishing only to see her more clearly, to be slightly closer to her as she passed.

“Your father is awaiting our arrival in Lórien. He will be deeply grieved at your absence after so many years apart,” the Great Lady murmured, her voice deep and rich like heavy loam at the start of a thunderstorm. “He misses you greatly.”

His Lady’s face fell, her mouth curving down and her eyes hooding. It made him ache, filled him with such grief that he desired to cry out for her but still dared not bring open attention upon himself. She breathed deeply and looked up again. “I know, and he will be welcomed in Imladris whenever he wishes to see me—all will be welcomed in Imladris,” she said with conviction that could make the very earth bow to her will and reshape itself to her need.

Her mother’s lips thinned and she said more to her, but he could not hear for they passed on and other elves took their place, murmuring in conversation loud enough to block the only voice he wanted to hear again. His Lady had gone away from his sight and the twisting of life was such that he might never hear her again.

Elrond collapsed against the ground, his face falling into the moist soil. He cared not now what the others might think of him revealing himself when he ought to have stayed safely hidden. He cared not if the elves took note of him and carried him away as a treasure like the storytellers said they might, nor even if some other of the big folk came along and spied him and trod on him or poked at him with pointy sticks. His entire life felt now shaded as by a malicious tree. Whither he went and whence he came, all he did now would be dampened and dulled by Her absence. Even the residue of the berry on his tongue tasted of decay and felt of stream silt. He lay there for some unknown time—what meant time now but the eternity stretching on without Her? 

“Elrond,” someone said as they poked at his side, exasperated. “They’re gone. You can stop playing dead.”

He lifted his tear-streaked face to look at the speaker, soil sticking to his wet skin. “Are you sure?” He asked, lower lip trembling and brows wrinkled together. Perhaps the elves would turn and come back. Perhaps the Great Lady forgot something she needed and she would turn the whole company around to retrieve it and he would see his Lady again.

The other crouched, reaching forward to wipe the dirt off his face. “Yes, Elrond,” she sighed. “It’s safe.”

He sat up slowly, sniffling and wiping his nose across his forearm, succeeding only in adding more soil to his face and smearing the snot from his weeping. “Okay.”

She shook her head, her poofy hair possessing the gall to bounce happily. She looked at him, eye-to-eye—how he desired now only to gaze up, up, up at the eyes of his Lady—then looked down at her hands and said, “If you get this scared about the big folk, you can always hide with me.”

He sniffled again and murmured a listless ‘okay’ before crawling back under the mushroom to hide from the static meaninglessness of the muted world around him.   

[oxymorayuri]

𝐶𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝟿

𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 »

𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟

𝐿𝑎𝑤 ✘ ♀ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: 序川_ on pixiv

Story: The princess of Tanata

(Long Fic)

➽ Click on this link to see all chapters.

Spoiler: none

Warnings: none

slowburn with plot

Wordcount: 2168

Text in italics emphasizes the reader’s thoughts

Bold and italic text emphasizes Law's thoughts *~*

Tagging: @slytherinambitious - @sassyyassi - @norasincubi

You're on this strange ship again.

The 'Yellow Wonder' as you thought the other day. You look around curiously, the deck is quite simple but it is quite exciting to be on a ship.

Once upon a time, it was common on Tanata for people to sail on ships. You have read all the history books and writings about your own past.

The past of Tanata.

No matter what the written records say, there is not a single trace of ships on the island. The people of Tanata have not sailed for centuries…

"Princess?" - You flinch slightly and turn to look into the troop leader's eyes.

"Hey, don't scare me like that Ambrosios!" You put your hand on your chest.

" Sorry not sorry… but I have to tell you that there might be a problem…" - "Ahh man…" Annoyed, you put your hands on your hips.

Ambrosios does the same, but instead of an annoyed expression, he grins cheekily at you. When you notice how he copies you, you snort.

That cheeky guy.

You two have known each other since you were kids, he's Anatol's son and was raised to be a warrior. You've always trained together.

Your eyes roam over his upper body.

He is definitely not badly built, his armor is designed in such a way, that you can still see his impressive muscles.

"You know, princess, you don't have to stare, you are allowed to touch." He comes closer to you but you laugh and push his face away from you, kicking him lightly in the side.

"Come on. Tell me about the problem." He's always been like this and he's like this with everyone, but you know that he doesn't get into bed with everyone. You've always wondered why he never had a serious relationship.

"Not only is the ship stuck, it's also stuck in mud. It's much harder to get it out and we could end up damaging the ship." - "Do you have any ideas, my princess?" He leans down slightly towards you, his blond hair falling slightly in his face. He's quite the pretty boy, you have to admit.

But you just don't like blonde. You like the opposite.

Without intention, you glance over at Law.

Ambrosios follows your glance. You quickly look back at him, luckily he can't hear what you're thinking.

"I think, I have an idea… Someone has assured me that he could be of great help."

A smile appears on your face that Ambrosios has never seen before. It's a sort of cunning one.

With Law as your target, you make your way over to him. He was with a few soldiers and had his back turned to you. When the soldiers saw you, they interrupted the conversation and stood up straight.

Law didn't miss this behavior and turned around.

"Princess-ya." - "Princess.ya?" Ambrosios asks a little bewildered… and a little pissed off, because it seems so intimate… but you don't realize that anyway.

"Hey Law, do you have any ideas what we can do? Your ship is stuck in the mud and we can't lift it out of the river." - "I can deal with it, but there's one thing that needs to be done first."

Curiously, you watch as the soldiers heave a tree trunk onto the huge wagon where the ship should be placed.

Law said it was necessary and you are looking forward to what comes next.

"Okay, everything should work now." Law says casually as he claps his hands.

With a firm stance, he raises an arm and his low voice echoes a 'Room!

You've heard that before…

First you recognize a small swirl forming in his palm, which becomes a growing dome.

The dome surrounded you, the ship and the wagon that was positioned right next to the ship. He paused briefly and you hear him say 'Shambles'.

Suddenly the ship disappears from your sight and in the next moment you hear the loud creaking sound of Law's ship, which appears on the cart.

With your mouth open, you look in amazement at the Jolly Roger's broad grin as the log falls into the river.

Your gaze goes over to Law, who takes one step backwards.

"That was awesome Law!" - Law smiles at you, a little drained. You immediately recognize his irregular breathing and slight dark circles under his eyes.

"Are you all right?" you approach him worriedly. He quickly collects himself and tries to adopt a composed posture.

"Swapping such large object takes a lot of energy." You look at him sympathetically as Ambrosios steps to his side and places a hand on his shoulder. He is slightly taller and broader than Law.

"That was pretty useful, we'll take it from here." And walks past him to the wagon, where the other soldiers are getting ready.

Although Ambrosio might not look like it, if you can win him over, especially with strength, you'll have his respect.

"Pretty cool, I must say." - "Thanks, you could say I control the room" - "Sounds familiar…".

For a moment you both just smile at each other and it feels like time stands still. You definitely won't be the first to look away. You're enjoying the sensation waaaay too much.

"Aheem." comes from the side and you both look to Ambrosios who comes slightly between you to talk to you.

"We're ready then."

After securing the ship at the city border, you say goodbye to the soldiers and make your way back to the palace.

Now it's just the two of you…

Even if you want to ask a thousand things, you remain silent. At first it was a bit awkward again, but as time went on you found it quite pleasant. You become very calm around Law.

"Hey Law, when we get back I could do something to make you feel good."

What on earth did this woman say?

A little surprised, he looks down at you and raises an eyebrow.

"A-Also, only if you want to, of course." - "What do you mean?" he looks down at you sceptically.

Only then you realize what you actually said and turn bright red!

"UHH I MEAN… of course I meant that I can heal you!" Ashamed, you bury your face in your hands.

Oh my God, why do you express yourself so incredibly silly, huh?

It is now impossible to look Law in the face and you go your way in silence. You are glad when you arrive at Hera's palace and a few pirates greet you.

"Captain!!!!!!" Bepo comes running towards you.

"How's the Polar Tang??" - "Fine, it's safe at the edge of town. I would say that you help the people with the repairs. After all, it's not a normal ship." The Mink saluted his captain and scurried off to gather a couple crew members.

Law looks down at you. You can feel his eyes on you and carefully look up at him.

"You said you could heal me?" you nod hastily at him.

"All right, I suggest we go to my room," he adds as he makes his way to the stairs.

Once in his room, you suddenly feel like a complete stranger. It's your home and yet you're still tense.

Law makes himself comfortable on the sofa and looks at you expectantly.

You stand a little lost in the room. The thought of what you're about to do suddenly makes you feel strange. You start to feel a little uneasy at the thought of healing Law.

You sit down next to Law with your upper body facing him.

"Ready?" you ask as you carefully reach for his hand. With your delicate hands, you hold Law's hand and bring it to your lips.

Your warm lips meet Law's cool skin. With your eyes closed, you try to concentrate on his exhaustion.

Even if Law doesn't show it, he is literally overwhelmed by the warm feeling running through him. It feels as if waves are flooding his body without him feeling drowned. He feels rather light and safe.

He has never felt so good. Now he understands why you said it like that.

He closes his eyes. It's not that he feels like he is intoxicated by the feeling… it's more that he feels calmer than ever before.

He opens his eyes slightly to look down at you. Your lips are still on his hand. His gaze wanders from your long eyelashes to your full lips.

Why did she have to kiss Luffy and me when it was just a simple touch with Penguin?

A little tired, you let go of Law's hand. You used quite a lot of power yesterday and although it was only a small effort, it's quite noticeable now.

Law, on the other hand, spreads his arms out on the backrest and leans his head back with closed eyes.

The way you're both sitting, with your upper body still facing him, it looks like he's putting an arm around you. Exhausted, you lean back against the sofa. You don't care that you're touching Law's arm, and Law doesn't seem to mind either as you enjoy a moment in silence.

"Princess-ya?" - "Mhmm?"

"When you healed Penguin on the ship, you only had to touch him but you kissed me and Luffy… why?" - "It depends on how bad the damage or injury is…." You take his hand in your small hands and let some of your power flow into him.

"Can you tell the difference?" - Law nods silently at you.

"I'm not sooo good at controlling people's time yet… or rather, I can't without skin contact. There were some devil fruit users who could do it without any contact but I guess I'm a bit too uncontrolled… as my grandfather always swears." You can't help grinning.

"I build a direct connection that way, otherwise I'd use up too much energy myself." - "Why don't you heal yourself?" - "I can't."

He lifts his head straight up to look at you. Tired, you look into his eyes.

"You can't?" - "Yep. I've tried but nothing happens when I touch myself. I know from the old writings and stories that there were devil fruit users who could do it, but I never learned." You say with a hint of bitterness.

Law studies your face. Your large e/c eyes gaze into his stormy gray.

"Do you want it?" - "Absolutely." your eyes sparkle with passion. "But grandfather won't let me. There was a terrible incident back then and I strained my powers so much that I unleashed a terrible force…" You hold on to your arms and gaze into the distance.

"Apparently I've released something that's never been seen before. A power so terrible that it almost killed me. Since then, my grandfather has forbidden me from using my powers like that…"

You can't control yourself and a tear flows down your cheek.

You don't know what happened back then. You only know that it must have been so terrible because you were in a coma for a year. When you woke up again, you realized that your grandfather had burned all the textbooks that could help you with your techniques. In general, there were some forbidden techniques, but none of the previous users had ever been able to do what you did.

With his thumb, Law wipes away your tear and smiles kindly at you. You return a weak smile and the black haired man leans back again. He looks up at the ceiling a little thoughtfully and closes his eyes.

"You know, I feel really good."

You're glad Law can't see your face. You notice his attempt to refer to your words from before and lean back with a grin. You close your eyes and wonder why you feel so good... Even though you've remembered so many bad things.

After all you've known Law for less than 48 hours, you have shed a tear in front of him. Even if it was just one…

Law's voice, calm manner and slight arrogance trigger feelings in you that you've only read about in books.

It feels strange… No, rather good.

After a while, you say your goodbyes to Law. You're quite sleepy and if you don't get up now, you'll fall asleep and that would create DRAMA.

You can imagine the headline on the newspaper 'HOLY PRINCESS WITH PIRATE!!!'

When you get to your room, you throw yourself into bed. Your face is buried in the pillow.

What exactly do you feel? Is it sheer curiosity? No.

With the question still unanswered, you fall deeply asleep.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

It's almost 2 in the morning. I'm off to bed now. Nightie Babes!

See you next time, kiss kiss ♡

➽ Next chapter

[wordingg]

Five Idiots Look For a Cave - Chapter One

Summary: Laios and his sister Falin are hired to guard a wagon of provisions as it travels from the city of Neverwinter to the small frontier settlement of Phandalin. It seems like a dead easy job, but it quickly becomes more complicated when their employer is kidnapped by goblins, sending them on a wild goose chase across the most dangerous parts of the Sword Coast in search of him with a ragtag group of unlikely allies.

Or, I make the dunmeshi guys play through the Lost Mines of Phandelver, because why not.

A/N: This is such a weird project to tag and explain, but I'm going to try.

For those familiar with Delicious In Dungeon, but not Dungeons & Dragons: The Lost Mines of Phandelver is the scenario/campaign that's provided in the starter set that you can buy for Dungeons & Dragons. I've run this campaign a bunch of times during my years playing Dungeons & Dragons and I thought the characters of dunmeshi were just begging to be dropped into a D&D game. So, that's what I did. The plot of this story is the campaign, Lost Mines of Phandelver, and whenever the characters need to do something, I roll dice to see whether they can do it or not. Combat, investigation, everything. I am literally playing this game by myself and then converting it into a fic.

For those familiar with Dungeons & Dragons, but not Delicious In Dungeon: Delicious In Dungeon is an anime set in a fantasy world where dungeon diving is a well-known career choice. The setting and characters are such a good match to Dungeons & Dragons that I had to change very little to get the characters to fit into a Forgotten Realms setting.

All that to say, the story should be digestible by anyone, even if you're not familiar with both fandoms.

Also, just a warning that I don't really have an in depth plan for this story, so I'm going to add tags and relationships as I go. I really like Chilchuck/Laios and Falin/Marcille, so those are the two pairings most likely to be added, but no promises either way. I'll make sure to warn if I add anything at the beginning of each chapter.

Laios Touden and his sister Falin stood by while the wagon they had been paid to accompany was loaded up with supplies. Young men barely more than boys hauled barrels and burlap sacks of provisions up into the old warped bed of the wagon, more passing up shovels, pickaxes and crowbars. Laios counted about twelve sacks of flour, seven casks of salted pork, two kegs of strong ale, five lanterns, and a small barrel of oil.

It was early, just an hour before dawn, but the south gate out of the city of Neverwinter was already starting to bustle with traffic. Mostly it was wagons not unlike their own, though filled with produce and other products from the farms circling the city that served to feed the swollen populace within the city walls. From farther north the smell of baking bread and roasting meat signaled the beginning of breakfast for the many people packed in close behind thick the stone walls.

Laios was ready to leave the city. He had grown up in the far north, surrounded by rolling fields, freezing cold fjords, and winter lashed forests. He had lived in a lot of places since he had left his home, but cities were never his favorite. There were too many people, too close, all smelling and talking and leaving their things everywhere. He was looking forward to being outside the city walls for a while, but they had to wait until the wagon was full before they could leave.

“Toudens!” a boisterous voice called from the main thoroughfare.

Falin, standing beside him and watching the loading of the wagon with more interest than Laios, smiled and raised her hand at the call. Slower, Laios raised his hand as well, to wave to their most recent employer.

A dwarf with rust colored red hair and beard sitting atop a pretty dapple gray pony split from the little stream of people leaving the city through the south gate and came toward Laios and the steadily filling wagon. Following behind him was an older human man wearing chain mail and riding on a three quarter sized bay mare with another small dwarf with a thick black beard witting sideways on the horse’s haunches behind him.

“Mr. Rockseeker,” Laios greeted him as he pulled his horse up close. He didn’t step down to talk to Laios, but he didn’t begrudge him. Laios wondered how the dwarf had managed to get onto the horse in the first place.

“Please, call me Gundren,” Mr. Rockseeker said with a twinkling smile. His nose and cheeks were ruddy red above his red beard. “Mr. Rockseeker was my father.”

Laios stared at Gundren blankly until he heard Falin snort out a laugh and he realized that the nonsensical statement was a joke. He quickly barked a laugh out that felt false even to his ears. But, if Gundren noticed, it didn’t show on his face that Laios could tell.

“It looks like everyone is here, so I hope you don’t mind if I introduce you to my nephew-” Gundren started to say before being interrupted by Falin.

“Oh, actually! We’re still waiting for a friend of mine who offered to come along,” she explained with a pleasant smile.

Gundren’s face did something too complicated for Laios to follow. “A friend?” he asked uncertainly.

“Who’s everyone?” Laios asked, wondering if Gundren had meant him and Falin. He thought you usually would say ‘both’ instead of ‘everyone’ if you were just addressing two people, though he was no stranger to being wrong when it came to things like that.

“He means me,” a surly voice from near Laios’ hip grumbled, making him jump about a foot in the air and turn around.

Laios hadn’t heard anyone approach, but a halfling man with short brown hair peppered with a few fine gray hairs and big ears was standing right beside him, his arms folded in front of his chest. He had a soft looking green muffler looped around his neck and worn leather armor over a plain white shirt and dark pants. And, he apparently noticed Laios staring, as he threw a nasty look up at Laios after a few second of him looking a little too intently.

He was usually pretty bad at interpreting people’s expressions, but it was hard to misunderstand that kind of look.

Laios tuned back into Falin and Gundren’s conversation just in time to see them get interrupted by Marcille stumbling up to them, panting and bracing her hands on her knees to catch her breath. Her long blonde hair was braided in a complicated style that left half of it piled on top of her head, and half it hanging long down her back and she was wearing a pretty blue dress that looked warm but a little impractical for hard travel. As well as her spell book and quarterstaff of course.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” she gasped. “I told the innkeeper to wake me up, but she never came! I ran the whole” she paused to take another gasping breath, “way here!”

“I won’t be able to pay another person,” Grundren said to Laios, turning his back on the two women.

“Falin and I will split our pay with her. She’s a good friend of ours. She’s trustworthy,” Laios explained, he hoped sufficiently, for Gundren.

Gundren’s eyebrows did some wiggling, shadowing his small dark eyes for a moment, but then he sighed and his shoulders slumped, and the warm smile and the twinkling eyes were back as if they had never left.

“Well, that’s alright then. Anyway, I wanted to introduce you all to my nephew, Senshi,” he said, turning to gesture to the two men behind him. The human man had helped the dwarf off the tall horse and he was walking up to the small group. “He’ll be accompanying the rest of you on the wagon to Phandalin.”

A chorus of hellos in various levels of enthusiasm came from the small group gathered by the side of the wagon. Senshi looked a lot like Gundren, if the coloring was a lot darker and his face a lot less expressive. Senshi had a long thick wavy beard that matched his thick wavy hair and a slightly receding hairline. His eyebrows were thick and his eyes were small, dark and keen. It was hard to read Senshi’s expression. Laios suspected that was probably true even for people who weren’t him.

“With that, I’ll have to bid farewell,” Gundren said with a little half bow from the top of his pony. “I look forward to meeting with the rest of you in Phandalin.”

“We won’t be traveling together?” the halfling man spoke up. He looked uncertainly at Laios and the others, before turning a frustrated expression up at Gundren.

“It’s faster to travel by horse than by wagon and I have some business to finish up in Phandalin before you all get there. But, you all won’t be far behind me,” Gundren said, already turning his pony around. The human man was mounting his mare, as well, turning her nose toward the south gate. “Take good care of those supplies!” he called over his shoulder as he rejoined the press of people heading toward the walls of the city.

The five left behind awkwardly glanced around at each other. Laios, Falin and Marcille stood together, looking down at the two smaller men who would apparently be their traveling companions for the next two or three days.

While they had been talking, the last of the supplies had been loaded into the wagon and the men who had been doing the loading had left. There was nothing to keep them there but uncertainty about their new companions.

Finally, the halfling man broke the silence with a derisive sniff. “I’ll drive the wagon,” he said. “The rest of you can ride in the back until we get out of the crowd.”

With that, he stepped away from the others and jumped a little to reach the bench at the front of the wagon and confidently took the reins. He looked over his shoulder impatiently and the others took the hint.

“Uh, right. Thanks!” Laios said, probably way too late by the way that the halfling man sucked his teeth at Laios, but Falin always said better late than never.

His chain mail clinking, Laios climbed up into the wagon behind Marcille and Falin, who had already claimed the most comfortable spots on top of the flour sacks. He reached back behind him to help pull the dwarf man, Senshi, up into the wagon as well and got a friendly nod in thanks. Together, he and the other man had to make do trying to find a comfortable spot between the tools and barrels.

Once everyone had stopped shifting, the halfling man flicked the reins and the old horses hitched to the wagon started off, pulling the rattling wooden wheels across cobblestones out of Neverwinter and south along the well maintained High Road toward their destination.

---

They made camp the first night in a little windswept area off the left side of the road alongside a number of other travelers. Their campfires flickered orange in the moonlight, lighting up the worn cobblestones of the road even if it was too dark for anyone to keep moving. The air was brisk since the shoreline was close, close enough that you could hear the soft crashing of waves on the beach in the small silences between the campsites.

“I’m surprised they only gave us five ration packs each,” Marcille said into the silence as they all sat around the fire munching away at the hard bread, dried meat and sharp cheese that had been wrapped up in wax paper for them by the same store that had loaded the wagon up for Gundren.

“It shouldn’t take us more than two days to get to Phandalin,” Chilchuck answered her from around a mouthful of bread. Chilchuck Tims was the halfling man. After half a day of traveling by wagon, Laios had finally worked up the courage to ask and was pleasantly surprised when he answered.

“Still, tis foolish to not prepare for a longer trip. Who knows what trouble we may meet on the road,” the dwarf, Senshi, said as he looked down and rubbed the dried meat between his thick blunt fingers. Laios wondered if he was trying to soften it with his hands first. He wondered if it worked.

“Senshi is right,” Laios said after a second. “If it does end up taking us longer than two days to reach Phandalin, we’ll be in a real bind.”

“We’re not going to die if we have to go a day or two without food,” Chilchuck responded, but he looked a little unhappy at the thought.

Laios shared a look with Falin at that. He supposed that was true, but he had gone without eating before on expeditions that went wrong and it wasn’t something he wanted to repeat if he could help it.

“What made you take this job, Chilchuck?” Marcille asked after an awkward moment of silence. “You seemed surprised to see other people.”

Chilchuck frowned back at her. “What made you take this job?” he asked back.

Undeterred, Marcille answered, “Well, I didn’t really take it so much as I agreed to tag along.” Turning to Falin, she asked, “What made you guys take it?”

“Laios saw the job posting at the guild,” Falin explained as she broke off a piece of her cheese and offered it to Marcille who hummed happily as she popped it in her mouth. “He’s my brother and I often accompany him on jobs that take him out of the city.”

“Yep,” Laios added, thinking back. “Falin has saved my life more times than I could count. But, this job sounded easy and straight forward. ‘10 gold to escort provisions to Phandalin with option to make more. For reliable persons only.’ “ Laios recited from memory. “Seemed just like the thing for me and Falin.”

“Ye belong to an adventurer’s guild, then?” Senshi asked Laios with a raised eyebrow.

Laios wrinkled his nose as he realized that, even if it was true, saying he was part of the adventurer’s guild was probably a little misleading.

“I only just joined a month ago. I’m still pretty green. Easy jobs like this are the only ones I’m qualified for,” Laios said hesitantly.

“But, Laios is really amazing in a fight! That’s how he got into the guild, by proving himself in a tournament. He’ll climb the ranks in no time!” Falin added with an enthusiastic grin thrown in Laios’ direction. Even if the praise made him more self-conscious, it warmed something in his heart to have her support and encouragement.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, scratching at the back of his neck.

“And, you’re just tagging along?” Chilchuck asked Marcille, doubt thick in his tone.

“Uh, well,” Marcille fumbled, seeming a little taken off guard by the question.

“Marcille is a friend of mine from temple,” Falin jumped in to say. “She just moved to Neverwinter and we’ve been showing her around. We didn’t want to leave her alone in the city for however long the job took, so we invited her along.”

Marcille and Falin shared a speaking look, something that Laios could recognize from the outside but not totally understand. Sometimes it seemed like they could have whole conversations with just their faces, in a few brief seconds snatched between words. It seemed an impossible kind of skill, one that he envied and was a little mystified by.

“That’s right,” Marcille agreed, her nose and ears a shade pinker than they had been a moment ago. “But, you still haven’t answered my question. I understand why Mr. Rockseeker wanted someone like Laios to guard his provisions on the road to Phandalin, but I’m not really sure how you fit into this.” She gave Chilchuck a piercing look, one he returned with an unhappy twist of his lips.

But, after only a moment, he sighed and sagged back against the fallen log he had sat himself against.

“Me and Gundren go way back. We used to go dungeon diving together back when I was younger. He was always decent to me. All he told me was that he had some kind of crazy opportunity opening up in Phandalin that I would want to get in on and to meet him there by the gates. He didn’t mention I’d be riding in a wagon with a bunch of strangers while he went on ahead,” Chilchuck finished with a dirty look aimed at the dirt by his foot. Laios didn’t have to be good at understanding people to understand that Chilchuck probably wished he could aim that look at Gundren instead.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Marcille sighed.

“Aye, I’m sorry to hear that. My uncle isn’t always the most considerate. Especially when he’s on a job,” Senshi added with a sorrowful nod of his head.

Chilchuck waved his hand, as if he could swat the condolences offered to him out of the air. “Whatever,” he said. “What’s done is done. I owe you all an apology, anyway. I didn’t mean to take my bad mood out on all of you.”

“Well, it’s a bit understandable,” Falin offered with a smile.

“Yeah, we didn’t take it personally,” Laios said with a shrug. He had assumed that the behavior he’d seen so far had been Chilchuck’s normal personality. It was sort of nice to hear that it wasn’t.

“Gundren is your uncle, huh?” Laios asked, changing the focus to Senshi. “Is there anything you can tell us about him? I only got to speak to him a little bit before taking this job.”

“Aye, he is my uncle, though our family is large and he is one of five uncles of mine,” Senshi explained. “There’s not much I can tell you about him, unfortunately. He and two of my uncles do much treasure hunting in the mountains about Neverwinter. I suspect that’s how you came into contact with him?” Senshi asked Chilchuck.

“Yep,” Chilchuck said. “I’m a locksmith by trade, but I have a reputation for being skilled at disarming dwarvish traps. He hired me way back when I was just starting out and is half the reason I have that reputation.”

“Do you have an interest in treasure hunting, Senshi?” Falin asked curiously.

Senshi stared into their crackling fire, his usually expressionless face becoming sorrowful. “Nay, not I. Not anymore.”

Laios looked around at the others, hoping someone more skilled at talking would interrupt the sad lonesome silence that had descended over Senshi. Unfortunately, it looked like everyone else was casting around to each other for the same thing.

Luckily, it was Senshi himself who broke the long silence. “I suspect my uncle thinks me a bit of a layabout. I don’t do any of the traditional dwarven pursuits. Mining, blacksmithing, gold prospecting. I’m sure whatever job he wants me to help with it will be something like that.”

“And, what is it that you like to do, Senshi?” Falin asked gently.

Senshi looked up for the first time since he had started talking.

“Cooking,” he said decisively. “I love to cook.”

Falin clapped her hands in joy. “Oh that’s wonderful!” she exclaimed.

“What do you like to cook most?” Marcille asked.

“Do you have a specialty?” Chilchuck asked with interest.

Laios smiled as the conversation lightened and turned lively as everyone talked and shared about food, their favorite foods, their family recipes, regional specialties they knew of.

It seemed like the ice had been broken and even if they weren’t friends they were well on their way to getting there.

---

The next morning they got an early start, eating their third ration for breakfast quickly before cleaning up the last embers of their campfire and packing up so they could get back on the road. They were not on the high road for long before they turned left onto a small dirt track with a simple sign marking it as the Triboar Trail.

It’s this road that they would take for the rest of the day and hopefully reach the small settlement town of Phandalin before nightfall.

Laios didn’t know much about the town of Phandalin. From what little he heard from other people in the guild, it was a tiny town just on the edge of the wilderness that was built on the remnants of another older settlement. It sat on the edge of the foothills of the Sword Mountains and was mostly populated by miners and the people who ran businesses that served them.

This part was the part of the journey that he had been hired for. The Triboar Trail was really that, just a worn down dirt trail leading off into untamed and largely uninhabited woods and meadows. All manner of creatures, bandits and beasts populated those lands and would have likely loved to get their hands on a wagon full of supplies like what they had.

A shiver of anticipation ran down Laios’ back as he imagined the types of monsters known to haunt the woods around them. There were stirges, of course, terrible little mosquito like creatures about the length of your arm that attacked suddenly and would try to drain their victims of blood. Ghouls could come out at night, ethereal specters of long dead travelers looking for warm bodies to possess. Ogres preferred the foothills, but they could wander close enough that running into one traveling afield for hunting wouldn’t be out of the question. Then there were goblins, orcs, owlbears! The list just went on.

Laios couldn’t suppress a whine of excitement at the thought. The sound, as quiet as it was, was still noticed by the halfling sitting beside him on the bench at the front of the wagon. Chilchuck jumped a little at the sound and gave Laios an uncertain look.

“Oh, uh,” Laios fumbled, trying to think of an explanation that didn’t include explaining that he was just excited to finally be entering monster country. “Just had a tickle in my throat,” he landed on lamely.

Chilchuck gave him a suspicious squint, but turned back to examining the road in front of them.

They continued on like that throughout the morning. Marcille and Falin occasionally walked beside the horses, the two old things walking slow enough that the women had no issues keeping up with them at a brisk walk. Senshi said his legs were too short to keep up and instead enjoyed relaxing on the flour sacks and making small talk.

It turned out that Senshi had traveled all over the world cooking and learning new cooking techniques. Marcille, the most well traveled of all of them, was especially impressed with him and got him to talking about all the far flung places he had visited.

Unfortunately for Laios, not a single monster accosted them that whole morning, even though both he and Chilchuck in front of the wagon were trying to keep a weather eye out for any movement in the brush on the sides of the road.

That is, until they reached a road block just before noon.

Just as they turned a bend in the road, they came upon a distressing sight. Two horses lying dead on their sides in the center of the road, numerous arrows pointing up out of their sides.

Chilchuck pulled the wagon to a stop as soon as they saw them and everyone stopped and stared.

“Those are Gundren and Sildar’s horses,” Senshi said slowly, looking at the two dead horses from between Chilchuck and Laios.

“Sildar?” Laios asked.

“The human man that was with Gundren yesterday morning. His bodyguard,” Senshi explained.

“I don’t like this. This feels like a set up,” Chilchuck whispered, furrowing his brow and barely raising his voice enough to be heard by the two men sitting right beside him.

“Even if we don’t trust it, we won’t be able to get the wagon past unless we move the horses,” Laios said with a thoughtful frown.

“Maybe you could use your magic to move them?” Falin asked Marcille.

Marcille fidgeted with her cape, tugging on the silky red ribbon at the front. “I couldn’t use mage hand to move them, they’re too heavy. I can only manage ten pounds at most.”

Laios sighed and jumped down from the wagon. “I’ll go investigate and try to move them. You guys take cover and let me know if you see anything, okay?”

Everyone nodded except Senshi who climbed down from the wagon, as well. “I’ll help ye,” he said gruffly. “Moving the horses will go faster if we work together.”

Chilchuck jumped back into the wagon and took cover behind a barrel, drawing his shortbow and knocking an arrow, his keen brown eyes scanning the thick foliage on either side of the road. Marcille also drew close the wagon, crouching down by a wheel and clenching her staff in both hands and looking a little seasick. Falin, however, stepped out front holding her mace menacingly in front of her, the sharp metal edges at the top glinting dangerously in the dappled light through the trees.

Laios tried to approach the horses cautiously, but his armor clicked and rang out as he walked. Senshi was quieter, but much slower. As they approached the horses, Laios agreed that they were the same ones he had seen Gundren and the human man riding yesterday morning. Even the tack on the horses was the same. Examining the blanket and saddle, Laios also noticed that the saddlebags of both horses were open, the insides looking dark and empty.

“I’ll take one set of legs, you take the other,” Senshi said, approaching the back legs of the pony.

“Wait, Senshi. Does it look like their saddlebags have been looted?” Laios asked, pointing at the bag he was looking at on the bay mare.

Senshi barely had time to make an inquisitive hum before the sound of a twig snapping behind him sent him and Laios turning just in time to see a small green creature sneaking through the underbrush with a small rudimentary bow drawn on them.

“LAIOS, LOOK OUT!” Falin shouted, pointing her mace at the goblin who had just startled them both.

Before either of them could react, an arrow was fired at them from the opposite side of the road, arching straight at Laios’ back. A flash of incredible burning pain lanced through his back, the pain so incredible that his vision fuzzed and blurred for a moment. He put his hand to his shoulder and felt hot blood against his fingertips, the soft wood of a small arrow sticking out of his back.

Beside him, Laios heard Senshi grunt and turned his head to see his new friend pierced through with an arrow, as well. Senshi was reaching out to touch a small arrow fletched in black feathers that was protruding from his upper arm, dribbling bright red blood.

“Laios!” Falin shouted again, her voice cracking on his name in a way that made his already racing heart stutter in his chest. Then, Falin quickly shouted a word that made Laios ears ring, her hand tracing a strange pattern in the air, before a flame-like radiance shot down from the sky at the goblin they had first seen.

Just as the light flickered in the air, Falin’s magic building above the goblin, the creature dodged to the side, missing the blast of sacred energy by a hair’s breadth.

The little green man growled, his voice high and stringent, making him sound like a saw working through a green piece of wood. Popping up from his rolling jump, he ran at Laios, a short chipped scimitar appearing in his long fingered hand.

Laios watched the blade come at him as if in slow motion, the goblin’s mouth fixed in a vicious snarl, his thin dark hair flying out behind his bulbous head. At the last second he leaned back out of the way of the strike and drew his own sword, his hand sure on the grip through hours and hours of training.

Behind the first goblin, yet another one appeared, this one also wielding a rusty damaged scimitar. It dodged around Laios, who was still engaged with the first goblin he had seen, and went straight for Senshi. Senshi, who had just yanked the arrow from his arm, threw up a hand desperately to protect himself from the attack, but still suffered a grievous wound across his arm that sprayed blood across the dirt road.

With a grunt, Senshi raised his greataxe high above his head. The goblin, still grinning in glee at landing a hit on the dwarf, didn’t see the axe coming until it cleaved his skull cleanly in half.

“Great job, Senshi,” Laios gasped, raising his own greatsword up at an angle to swipe at the goblin he was facing off with.

His own sword, heavier, longer and carefully maintained, carved through the small body and brittle bones of his attacker like a hot knife through butter. The goblin collapsed in a bloody heap with barely a whimper.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Laios could faintly hear Chilchuck saying from over by the wagon.

An arrow flew from the wagon where Chilchuck was hiding, fired into the bushes where the first two arrows had been shot from.

Laios barely had a moment to process that Chilchuck had joined the fight before another arrow flew, this one decidedly not from Chilchuck, and struck him right in the neck. Laios hit the ground in a spray of dirt, blood welling from his neck. In a matter of seconds his body began to feel cold, his eyesight blurry, his heart sluggish in his chest. He could hear people calling his name, but it all sounded far away.

Time became smeary around Laios. He could hear people shouting, see movement in what little he could still see, but the sound of his own struggling heartbeat took up most of his awareness. He could feel the blood pump out of his own body with each squeeze of his heart, smell the salty copper of his own life spilling out onto the uncaring forest floor.

Then, familiar hands are yanking the arrows out of his body. He could feel the flesh tear and give away under the new violence, but no pain came. He felt cold, so cold. Those same hands pressed tight against his back and a rush of warmth and pain pulsed through him, like unseen hands were yanking his flesh back in place, knitting the holes closed with fury, his body put back together none too gently, but put back together none the less.

Laios gasped as he opened his eyes and they focused on the scene around him. Falin was kneeling over him, her hands still stained with his blood, two bloody arrows discarded on the ground nearby. Senshi was laying on his back beside him in the blood soaked dirt, an arrow sticking out of his chest.

Struggling, still feeling dizzy from blood loss, Laios climbed back to his feet, picking his greatsword up off the ground.

“Thanks,” he whispered to Falin as he stood up between her and the two goblins still hiding in the brush.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” she said around teary eyes.

“You’ve got to get them out of cover!” Chilchuck shouted as he shot another arrow into the underbrush that the arrows were coming from, though from the sound he didn’t hit anything.

Another arrow flew out of the bushes, this time aimed right at Falin, but pinged the chain mail under her robe and fell uselessly to the ground by her feet.

“Ouch,” she grumbled, rubbing the spot on her chest.

“Did that thing just hit you in the boob?!” Marcille shrieked from near the wagon.

“Uh?” Falin responded uncertainly.

Marcille shouted something in a language that Laios didn’t understand and gestured with her staff. Three darts of light flew from her staff to the bushes, igniting them with pale blue light followed by a sound of agony and a wet thump as something hits the ground. Shortly after, the sound of fast footsteps receding into the woods could be heard.

“Whoa,” Laios said, his eyes huge as he turned back to look at a still panting Marcille, her staff still held out in front of her.

“Did the last one just run away?” Falin asked faintly.

“Forget that! Heal Senshi!” Chilchuck shouted, already crawling over the seat of the wagon and hurrying over to where Senshi was still laid out on his back.

“Oh! Right, of course!” Falin exclaimed, falling back to her knees and pulling the most recent arrow from where it had buried itself in Senshi’s chest. Falin spoke some strange words and traced a symbol on Senshi’s skin. A faint warm yellow glow emanated from her hands where she pressed them to Senshi’s torso and the wounds steadily closed, the blood marching backward back into his body as the puncture wounds pulled back together.

Senshi grunted, his unfocused eyes finally seeming to see them, tracking Falin and Laios and Chilchuck as he ran up to meet them, Marcille trailing behind.

“Did we find victory?” Senshi asked with a harsh groan as he pushed himself to sit up, Laios’ hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“We’re alive and they’re mostly not, but I don’t know if you’d call that victory,” Chilchuck said wryly.

“That was terrifying,” Marcille gasped with a hand to her chest. “Is this really what you two do for a living?” Marcille asked with a concerned look at Falin who only shrugged.

“Usually with less dying, but yeah mostly,” Laios said with a shrug of his own.

“Oh, my god,” Marcille breathed. “OH MY GOD!” she shouted after a second.

“Shush! Not so loud!” Chilchuck hissed at her. “Just because these goblins are dead doesn’t mean there’s not more hiding in the woods. We need to get out of here before the one that got away comes back with his friends.”

“But,” Laios said, sheathing his sword and turning to look at the dead horses still blocking the road. “If Gundren was caught in the same ambush we just were, then the goblins could be holding him hostage. We need to help him, right?” he asked, turning to the others.

“I agree. If Gundren is in trouble, we must help him,” Senshi said with a firm nod.

“I don’t think so!” Marcille exclaimed. “You two almost died and that was only four goblins! Now you want to stomp into their lair and what? Demand to speak to a manager? I don’t think that’s going to go over very well!”

“But, Marcille. The magic you just used was amazing! With you and Falin helping us, we’ll be able to save Gundren. I’m sure of it,” Laios said with a determined nod.

“Well… About that,” Falin said awkwardly. “That last healing spell kind of wiped me out. If someone gets hurt again, I won’t be able to heal them.”

“… Oh,” said Laios, caught flat footed by that thought.

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Chilchuck sighed. “And, I’m too old to go charging into danger unprepared. The two of you aren’t all the way up to snuff either. Why don’t we take this wagon the rest of the way to Phandalin and then come back to investigate? At least that way our two mages will be at full power and you two will be back to full health.”

Laios looked down at the ground, at the two goblins crumbled and bleeding into the dirt, at the two horses still on their sides in the middle of the road. At the blood still crusted into his sword’s blade and his chain mail, still matted into Senshi’s beard and on Falin’s hands and knees.

“Okay,” he said finally. “You’re right. Let’s to Phandalin and come back tomorrow.”

There were mumbles of agreement as Chilchuck, Marcille and Falin went back to the wagon and Laios and Senshi turned back to their original goal of dragging the horses off the road.

“Do you truly think the goblins took my uncle?” Senshi asked as they stood up from pulling the second horse off the road.

“I do,” Laios said. “Horses have a lot more value to goblins than humans or dwarves do. They use them as pack animals and sometimes eat them. If the goblins shot your uncle’s horse, then they wanted him in particular. And, if they wanted him for some reason, then there’s a good chance he’s still alive wherever they’re hiding him.”

Senshi gave Laios a long calculating look before nodding slowly. “Thank you, Laios,” he said gruffly, before turning and walking back to the wagon.

Laios scratched his head for a moment, not sure what he did to deserve thanks. Whatever the reason, at least Senshi seemed reassured.

[hazel-of-sodor]

Day 16-Too Late

Traintober 2023

Other Stories

Day 16-Purpose

Too Late

James was the one to find him. Thomas was hidden among the disused wagons behind Tidmouth. It didn't surprise James that none of the others had found him. Most tended to forget this part of the yard existed. James only knew because this was one of the spots he went to when everything became too much. As it had become for Caomhnóir.

The tank engine's fire had long gone out, his soot covering slowly washing away under the rain. Tear tracks covered his cheeks, but he was utterly unmoving. He had never looked so small to James as he did right then. Thomas had an energy that swelled past his frames, always moving, never still for longer than a second at a time. When he was upset it was easy to forget he wasn't as big as the main line engines. As Caomhnóir...there was a reason the likes of Flying Scotsman listened when he spoke. But right now? James just saw a little engine, bending under the weight placed on his frames.

James silently rolled to a stop in front of the tank engine, his crew walking away, leaving the two engines alone. For a long time, they remained in silence, James just letting him cry.

"I was too late." Caomhnóir finally whispered, his voice rough from crying. "She was already gone when we arrived."

James had no idea who he was talking about, but he could certainly guess at their fate.

"You can't save everyone." He reminded gently.

Caomhnóir's laugh was bitter and broken, "Everyone? Right now I'm failing to save anyone."

Well, that was enough of that.

"So you did dump that goods train on me last week for no reason."

Thomas looked up, confused, "No, I was..."

"And you had Henry sabotage the kipper the week before that for nothing."

"Of course not! I..."

"And Gordon derailed at Barrow completely by accident last month."

Thomas fell silent.

James raised an eyebrow, "Well? Did you or did you not need cover for engines sneaking in three times in a month?"

Thomas sighed, "I did...but it was not enough."

"No its not..and it never will be." James sighed, allowing his own grief to slip through. "But we can either accept that and help you save who we can, or let them take our kin unopposed."

"There's just so many." Caomhnóir sounded lost. "When I realized she was gone I grabbed who I could but..."

He was quiet for a long moment, " I moved as fast as I could but...." He looked helplessly up at James, "How do I tell Gordon Pretty Polly''s gone."

Oh. Well, that explained it.

"You don't," James said. "I will."

Thomas looked up to protest but James pressed their buffers together. "You have enough on your frames without this."

Thomas shook, "she wasn't supposed to be withdrawn yet. We had a plan, but suddenly they withdrew her, and by the time I got there..."

James took a deep breathe to steady himself, "it's still not your fault." He pushed on before the little engine could protest. "By all accounts, you made a sudden mad dash across the entire country undetected to try to save her. If you failed, then it was because there was no way to succeed, not because you failed in any way."

"I ran out of coal on the way back." Thomas admitted, "The midnight goods had to sneak me in."

Well, that explained why his fire was out.

"That only proves you did everything you could."

***

11 years later.

Thomas was resting at Tidmouth when he heard Gordon's whistle, joined by his siblings. He opened his eyes, expecting to see Gordon, Northern, and Scotsman.

Instead, a fourth engine was in front of him, the three expected Gresley's smirking on either side of her.

She, somehow was an A3 Pacific in BR Express Passenger Blue with the number 60061 on her buffer beam.

"I never got to thank you for trying to save me."

"POLLY?!?!?"

[lucygxybaird]

this night is sparkling - bonneybaird

this night is sparkling, don't you let it go. i'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. i'll spend forever wondering if you knew -- this night is flawless, don't you let it go. i'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone. i'll spend forever wondering if you knew i was enchanted to meet you. this is me praying this was the very first page, not where the storyline ends. my thoughts will echo your name until i see you again. follow-up to i've just seen a face

Billy likes to think of himself as a gentleman, as someone his mother would be proud to claim as her own. He holds the door open for women, offers his hand to help her down from a wagon or dismount from a horse, says yes ma’am and no ma’am, doffs his hat in a lady’s presence. And yet, he thinks, surely good manners aren’t enough; a true gentleman genuinely respects women, and he would swear up and down that he does. He really, truly, absolutely does, and he won’t hesitate to raise his voice — or his fists — against any other man who feels otherwise.

That being said, the torrent of thoughts and feelings currently turning his mind into frothing rapids are not nearly as respectful as he would like them to be. Especially considering that all he’s doing right now is sitting under a tree with a girl he met only last night.

Lucy Gray’s shoulder bumps gently against his, and Billy is immediately more aware of everything. Not just the scent of her skin (something soft and floral; rosewater, maybe?), or the warmth of her body reaching for his own, but their surroundings become more vibrant. The night air takes on a sweetness that he can almost taste, the grass under his palm caresses rather than gently prickling, the colors of the sunset as they melt into starlight are richer than he’s ever seen them. He has to keep looking up at the sky, rather than at her, or he’s fairly sure he’s just gonna explode. 

“Billy?”

Ah, damn. It would be rude not to look at her now, wouldn’t it?

“Yeah?” he says, turning his head to meet her gaze and being caught, without so much as another second elapsing, in the spell of her eyes. 

She smiles at him. “I asked you if you played any instruments.” 

“Oh —” Billy ducks his head, blushing. “Sorry, I was — ” Truth be told, he’d been thinking about how very, very much he would like to kiss her — how, in fact, it’s practically all he’s been thinking about all day, the possibility, the hope. How, to be more precise, it’s been on his mind since he read the note Lucy Gray had slipped into his hand after the Covey’s performance the evening before. 

“Do I make you nervous?” Lucy Gray says, tilting her chin up at him, and he’s so startled by the unexpected question that he blurts out the truth.

“Sorta.”

Her eyes widen just a fraction, and she leans forward, putting her weight on one hand so she can get even closer to him. “Little ol’ me?” she asks innocently. “Little Lucy Gray?”

Billy chuckles. “Yeah, little ol’ you,” he says. “Just cause you only come up to my shoulder doesn’t make a bit of difference.”

She gasps, moving to her knees, kneeling at his side and looking thoroughly affronted — or she would look thoroughly affronted, if not for the fact that there’s a gleam in her eyes he would call flirtatious if he had to put a name to it. 

“I come up higher than your shoulder!” 

“Aw, I don’t think you do…”

She prods him in said shoulder with a finger. “Get up, then!” 

He laughs and climbs to his feet, and she jumps up, squaring up to him with her hands planted on her hips. “See?” she says, marching to stand beside him. 

The top of her head, indeed, does clear his shoulder, although not by much; she would have to stand on her tiptoes to nestle her head against his neck. Not that Billy has thought about that, or holding her while she does, or how — actually — her head would fit just perfectly underneath his chin. 

“Alright, I was wrong,” he admits easily, though he’s still grinning. “Are you mad at me?”

She plants her hands on her hips, tapping her toe against the grass. “Hmmm…not if you give me a kiss, I think.” 

When he leans forward to press his lips to her cheek, Lucy Gray balances on her tiptoes, turning her face up to receive his kiss. His lips are just a hair’s breadth from brushing her skin when there’s a blur of motion in the corner of his eye, his hair is ruffled by a sudden movement, and Lucy Gray has taken off running, with his hat jammed onto her head. 

“Hey!” he yelps, but he’s laughing, and then he takes off after her. 

It’s not difficult for him to catch up with her, but when he reaches for her, she flits away from him, a butterfly darting over the grass. She’s giggling, skirt rustling as she passes through a patch of grass that has grown nearly waist high, and she twirls around to face him. “Aren’t you gonna catch me?”

“I’m tryin’!” he protests. “It’s like tryin’ to catch the breeze.”

Lucy Gray laughs, darting back around him, heading toward the tree they had been sitting under. Billy’s arm snakes out and encircles her waist before she can get too far, and she gasps, giggling as he pulls her flush against him. 

Billy keeps his hold purposely loose, not wanting her to feel trapped, but he realizes that she’s leaning back against him, tilting her head back to look into his face. “You want this back?” she asks, reaching up to touch her fingers to his hat. 

“Later,” he says. “It looks good on you.” 

She smiles at him, turning in his arms. “I like you,” she says simply, and Billy has to duck his head, hoping that even without the protective brim of his hat, he can hide the blush spreading across his cheeks. Not to mention the goddamn goofy grin. 

“I like you, too,” he says. 

“Now, I don’t want you to think I’m normally like this,” Lucy Gray says, taking his hand and leading him back to the tree where they’d been sitting, Billy’s hat still perched on her dark curls. “Askin’ a boy I just met to find me at some little farm, just to watch the stars come out.” 

Billy smiles at her as they settle down again, the smile widening when she leans against him and nudges his arm until he puts it around her shoulders. “Aw, does that mean I’m special?”

Lucy Gray grins back at him. “I mean, I think right now you’re a fisherman.”

“A what?” Billy says, laughing, which only makes her grin blossom further. 

“You know, cause you’re fishing for compliments.”

“Oh!” Billy scoffs, though as soon as she starts giggling, he finds himself dissolving into laughter along with her. “You can just say no, y’know.”

She turns in the circle of his arm, raising an eyebrow. “And why would I say that? You are special, William McCarty. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. It’s important for you to know right now that I only do what I wanna do, and I only say what I mean. You understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do.”

“Good,” she says. “Cause I really do like you.” 

She reaches up and traces the shape of his lower lip with her finger, not quite touching his mouth. Her fingertips are soft and warm, and carry just a whiff of ink. 

He leans in like he has no choice, like he’s just the tide rushing over the sand, and she’s the moon, pulling him in so naturally that resisting doesn’t even occur to him. She lifts her face up to his. It’s unbearable that he isn’t kissing her already — in fact, kissing her is what he was thinking of earlier, the thoughts so lurid and warm that he worried he wasn’t being gallant enough, even in the privacy of his own head — but, at the same time, it’s almost wonderful that he hasn’t yet. They will never have this moment again, the moment before this first kiss. 

The rest of his life, he thinks, could spin out from the touch of her lips on his. He might fall in love. She might move away and they’ll never see each other again. Today, right now, they might kiss and kiss until they are dizzy, and he knows, no matter what, he will never forget her. This girl who sang a song for his mother, who danced with him, who thinks he’s special. 

—William McCarty.

His brow furrows. “How do you know my last name?” 

Lucy Gray nibbles on her lower lip for a moment, but she doesn’t pull away. If anything, she scoots a little closer, their hips and thighs touching. “I might have asked around about you,” she says. “For my safety, you know. I didn’t want to come here alone with a scoundrel.” 

He chuckles. “Fair,” he says. “What did people say?” 

“That you’re a nice boy,” she says. “Well-mannered, hard working, loves his mama. More than a few girls talked about how handsome you are.”

The question leaves his mouth before he can think better of it. “Who?”

She smacks his arm. “I’m not telling you!” 

“Why not? I’m just curious.”

She snickers. “Mmm-hmm, and I’m the queen of England. I want you all to myself, that’s why not.” 

He smiles, touching a fingertip to the point of her chin, as if testing to make sure she’s real and not a vision dancing on the air. “You got me,” he promises. 

It’s easy to say, he knows, and maybe not so easy to believe; but he doesn’t think he could have kept those words in his mouth even if he’d wanted to. It would have been just as unnatural as holding his breath, feeling an ache build up in his chest, a need demanding to be met. 

Lucy Gray touches his chin in turn, her fingertips traveling up the line of his jaw as if tracing a path on a map. “Good,” she says, and then smiles. “I’m still not gonna tell you.”

And then she leans in, consuming his vision, and kisses him. 

She is not the first girl he has ever kissed, but she’s the first one whose kiss takes over every part of him. 

His lips tingle, even as they part under hers; his face goes hot, a blush tumbling down his neck, spreading over his chest. His arms move of their own accord, like he’s a puppet on strings, folding around her and pulling her closer. His legs — lucky we’re already sitting down — feel weak, an oddly pleasant numbing sensation, like he’s been sitting on a horse all day, turning his muscles to melting butter. And his stomach is full of a riot of butterflies, swooping and fluttering, filling him up so much he thinks he might just float away himself.

He isn’t sure how long the kiss lasts. It feels both like an eternity, a moment stretched softly and gently like a cloud spreading over the sky until it’s just one breeze away from breaking up; and it feels, too, like it’s all too short, a firefly glow flickering to life for a heartbeat before disappearing.

By the time it’s over, she’s in his lap, her arms around his neck. His hands are wrapped around her waist. They’re both out of breath, and when she giggles, the sound shaky and quiet, he can’t stop himself from grinning. 

“Oh, honey, I think you’re gonna be trouble for me,” Lucy Gray murmurs, but the smile lingers on her face. 

Billy presses another light kiss to her lips. “Fun trouble, or bad trouble?”

At first, her only answer is a wry little laugh, and she shrugs. “I’m hoping for fun trouble,” she says. “But life has taught me that you can hope for water all you want and still end up parched.” 

“That’s true,” Billy hums. “Believe me, I know all about that.” 

He thinks of how hopeful his family had been, moving across the country in search of better opportunities — or moving from Ireland to the United States in the first place. There had been fear, yes, or at the very least, unease and uncertainty. But there had been hope, too, a beacon to latch onto, stories of families just like theirs who had been able to build a life for themselves out West. 

And yet that beacon had proved ephemeral, a North Star which had led to nothing but a disappointment so deep it was like a canker, eating into his father’s heart. Which, in turn, had eaten away at the heart of their family. His mother had felt obligated to marry Antrim, and Billy knows — even if Kathleen will never admit it — how much that decision, that mistake, weighs on her. Sometimes he pictures Antrim as a leech, latched onto his mother and draining her dry. 

“Where did you go?” 

A soft brush of Lucy Gray’s lips against his cheek brings him back to the moment, and he starts guiltily. “Sorry,” he murmurs again. “I was just thinkin’ about my family, that’s all. My ma.”

She tucks a stray curl behind his ear. “I hope y’all come back to the bar soon,” she says. “I’d love to see her again.”

He smiles a little. “She’s good. She’d love to — oh!” He almost smacks himself in the forehead as he realizes he quite nearly forgot something important. “Here, here. This is for you.”

Fishing in his pocket, Billy brings out a folded square of linen, shaking it out to show the tiny bluebells embroidered all along the edge. “She made this for you,” he says. “A handkerchief. She said she saw the flowers on your dress last night, so she thought you might like it.”

Lucy Gray’s face lights up like Billy’s offered her a string of pearls. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she breathes, taking the handkerchief out of his hands and holding it up to the fading evening light. “I love it. Tell her thank you so much.”

Billy smiles. “I will.” 

She carefully folds the hanky up and tucks it into the pocket of her skirt, before lifting her face up toward the sky. “Oh, look,” she says, pointing upwards. “We have our first star.”

Looking up, Billy sees she’s right. A diamond has winked into life, nestled in a sea of indigo velvet. Lucy Gray nestles against him, and Billy puts his arm around her, smiling again as she tucks herself against his side. The two of them lean back against the tree, watching as more and more stars come out, until the dark blue field above them is full and glittering. 

“We forgot to make a wish,” Lucy Gray says idly, her gaze still trained on the firmament above them.

Billy shrugs. He’s perfectly happy to look at her, the starlight reflected in her eyes, bathing her features in a silvery glow. “I dunno,” he says. “I think I got just about everything I could wish for right here.”

She smacks his shoulder gently. “Don’t ply your snake oil with me, lover. It won’t work.” 

He laughs. “Maybe that was layin’ it on a bit too thick,” he admits, and she responds by holding up her hand, keeping her forefinger and thumb just a smidge apart. He nudges her gently with his elbow. “Really, listen, I’m glad we came out here. I…I thought about you all day.”

Lucy Gray runs her fingertips up and down his hand, where it’s draped comfortably over her shoulder. “I thought about you, too,” she says. “I thought about that kiss.”

To his exquisite embarrassment, Billy finds himself blushing again, this time with the stars shining a pale but definitive glow over his ruby cheeks. “Yeah?” he says. “How did I measure up?”

She grins at him. “Well,” she says. “I think I’ll just have to take me another one, just to be sure.”

Framing Billy’s face between her hands, Lucy Gray kneels by his side, leaning forward to kiss him again. It hits him just as hard as it did before, like a shot of whiskey rocketing straight to the pit of his stomach, feeling every inch of him with fire. Billy leans forward, one hand cradling the back of Lucy Gray’s head, and he wishes he could capture this moment right now, keeping it safe, like a bauble on a string that he can tuck in his pocket. 

This is pleasure and excitement and a bliss so sweet it makes his chest ache. This is the first time in a long time he has felt aware of himself, as himself — as a young man not even out of his teens, with the future unspooling before him like a ribbon, instead of tangled hopelessly around his feet. He’s taken on the role of his mother’s protector, a mantle he would never want to put down; she needs someone to take care of her, especially since her husband doesn’t and she won’t do it herself. 

Mostly, he likes feeling useful, likes feeling needed, likes feeling as though she can rely on him. Likes that she knows she can. 

But there’s a part of him — a tiny, niggling part, like a tick burrowing into his skin — that feels lost, unequal to the task, all while his youth is spilled out in sweat and tears that his mother tries to hide from him. 

Lucy Gray kisses him again, and he remembers that he’s young, that hope has not burned away to ash and fading light. It’s here, it’s right now, it’s this. 

When they finally break apart, they’re out of breath again. She takes both of his hands between hers and just holds them for a moment, watching his face. 

“I think we should probably head home,” Lucy Gray says after a beat of comfortable, warm silence. “Your ma will be wondering where you are, and Maude Ivory will be up past her bedtime, waiting to ask me how it went.” 

Billy smiles. “What will you tell her?” 

She squeezes his hands before letting go, and starts to get to her feet. Billy stands up and offers her his arm, and she smiles up at him as she uses the leverage to stand. “Gentleman,” she murmurs, and then says: “Well, I dunno. Maybe you’ll have to come see her to find out what I say.” 

It feels like fireworks have been set off in his chest. She wants to see him again. She wants to bring him around her people. 

“I’d like that,” he says. “I’d really like that.” 

He walks her across the field to where their horse are waiting, his fingers laced with hers. Billy frowns in concern as he looks around them, the road stretching in either direction into pools of darkness. “Are you gonna be okay?” he asks. “I can ride with y—”

She stops him with another kiss. “I can take care of myself,” she promises, and then smiles. “You’re sweet, though. She takes his hat off — somehow, he’s forgotten that she’s even wearing it, maybe because he likes it so much to see it on her — and, standing on tiptoe, puts it back on his head.

“We have a show tomorrow night,” she says. “Come see us, and you can walk me home then, alright?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Billy answers, grinning, and then corrects himself. “A date.” 

She smiles softly. “That’s more like it, mister.”

They both mount up, and Billy wishes he didn’t have to turn his horse in the opposite direction. After heading down the road just a little bit, he nudges his horse off into the field, turning so he can watch her go. Just for a few moments, to make sure— 

“Go home, William McCarty!” Her voice is a thread of sound from this distance, but still, as clear as the song of a lark. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

Billy can’t help but laugh, knowing she’ll hear him. 

He turns his horse for home. 

[inaris-mage-of-storms]

Jimmy scuffed the toe of his boot across the floorboards, staring at the dusty leather and gripping the edges of his seat tightly. The ruffled hem of a skirt was just at the edge of his vision, a lengthy scolding he barely heard coming from somewhere above it. He wondered how much longer it would be until he was tall enough to sit here and have his feet flat on the floor at the same, be able to sit back in it properly instead of perched on the end.

A splinter cut into his palm, and he lifted his hand to pick at it. Gosh, there was a lot of dirt under his fingernails. He missed his grandmother sometimes, hazy as her face was becoming in his memories, but he didn't miss the wire brush she surely would have been scrubbing his fingertips with if she saw just how black they were right now -

"Are you hearing a word I'm saying?"

Jimmy managed an impressively big sigh for such a small boy, looking up at the woman who called herself his aunt. "Yes, ma'am," he grumbled.

It was clear that Aunt...what was her name again? He couldn't remember, and in the two weeks since she'd taken him in, he hadn't bothered to ask. No point when he planned to hitch a ride back east the first moment he heard tell of a wagon going that way. It would happen any day now, surely. Aunt Whatever-Her-Face didn't believe him, but she mirrored his sigh with one of her own and pointed in the direction of the washbasin.

"Go clean yourself up," she said, "then put on a shirt that isn't ripped and come to dinner."

"This one's just fine." Jimmy poked at the tear in the fabric where he'd snagged it on a brach earlier. "It ain't rags or nothing."

"It isn't rags or anything," she corrected, and Jimmy scrunched up his nose. "And I don't care. Wash up and change. I won't have you at the table looking like a little ruffian."

"Why does it matter?" Jimmy slid out of the chair onto his feet. "Half your customers look worse than this."

His aunt threw up her hands in frustration. "Do you always have to have the last word? Lord, your mother - "

"Is dead," Jimmy reminded her sharply, not caring about the way her face fell. "Mama's dead, and my daddy, and Granddad too. You ain't them. You're a stranger."

The breath she took wavered, but there was no anger in her voice as she knelt in front of him and took his hands. "I know. I know it's hard, losing so much and living in a place that must seem so strange to you. You've been so brave, Jimmy, in the face of it all. But it's my responsibility now to look after you. It would help us both if you'd just mind what I say - "

Jimmy jerked his hands away and took a step back. "If I'm so hard to take care of, why not just send me away? The saloon ain't a fit place to raise a kid anyhow, Miss Ida said so. She said you ought to send me off where I can be brought up proper, since you're just a two-bit wh - "

"James Isaac Solidarity, you finish that sentence and we'll be having words of our own behind the woodshed."

The sound of his uncle's voice as he entered the room made Jimmy jump, and he clamped his mouth shut. He didn't know half of what the words Miss Ida or the other women said even meant sometimes, but he got the sense now that he'd almost gone too far in repeating them.

"Sorry, ma'am," he mumbled at the floor, and fled to the privacy of the other room when she only quietly repeated her request for him to go clean up and change. He didn't like the guilt churning in his stomach, but why should it matter? They were only strangers, anyhow, and he wouldn't be in Tumble Town for much longer.

}{ more from this au }{

[occasionallyprosie]

A Thousand Ways

Chapter 12: "That Which Is Left Behind"

Legend makes a decision when it comes to his family's farm, and more specifically, his presence in the ruins.

First | <<Previous | Next>>

Read On AO3

----

Twilight held Legend close, feeling the younger hero tremble and shake, any cries he made were silent. He hadn't expected the veteran to run off the moment they arrived in a new era, especially without explanation, but he had and immediately they came up on a burning homestead.

Twilight had barely caught up and it was only out of a burst of fear and adrenaline that he was able to catch Legend before he ran into the building that was clearly about to collapse. The veteran had looked terrified in that moment, and Twilight had naively thought it was because he realized he had been about to enter a building that was going to collapse.

Then all that fear and pain in his eyes disappeared, he pulled away from him and then went to the crowd of townsfolk that had watched. They knew him, but he did little more than assure him that he would handle the situation but would need their help and extra hands. His Cub had been right in a way, it definitely appeared as if Legend was just doing the hero thing and trying to help out when they had a quest.

But then Legend had, without an ounce of emotion in his voice, claimed the homestead as his grandparents' and himself as next of kin.

Now Twilight had his arms full of a grieving hero who he wasn't sure had ever let himself grieve before.

The next morning, what had to be the entire town showed up. Legend took charge, and it seemed a bit weird to see but he was a natural at it. Villagers had brought wagons and carts and soon enough the debris of the burned home was cleared away, and there were a few things that came out somewhat unscathed, mostly just domestic items like a partly burnt chair or a stuffed animal.

From what Twilight could tell in the moment, Legend seemed rather unaffected, but from the night before and having the hero crying himself to sleep in his arms, he knew otherwise. He frankly hadn't noticed just how good Legend was at masking.

He talked with some farmers and one left with the cow, another with four of the five cuccoos. Legend was followed by the remaining one the whole day and the horse which was definitely another version of Epona stayed nearby.

They finished for the most part by that evening. Most of the debris was taken to be used for charcoal or whatever, the animals carted off, and Twilight rejoined the heroes to the side.

"He looks tired," Sky said, their veteran was walking through the last bit of the house that they hadn't quite finished clearing. "How could this happen?"

"Sometimes bad things happen," Warriors responded. "I'm more worried about what he'll do when this is over."

"What do you mean?" Twilight asked, glancing over to make sure the others were fine. Wild was cooking with Wind helping him, and Time and Four were sharing thoughts on whatever it was they decided was today's topic. Hyrule was with Wild and Wind, but distinctly only there and not participating.

"I mean," Warriors began, "that the vet is a kid. Experienced though he is, he's still a teenager and he's told us his uncle died during his first quest and now his grandparents are gone. Considering he was raised by his uncle, I'll take a guess and say parents are out of the picture. I also asked one of the villagers about how many bodies we should look for and they said only two. They also said that Leanne and Alphon only had two sons and a grandson, both sons are dead, leaving just our scholar."

Leanne and Alphon--Twilight's own birth parents shared those exact names. That was an interesting connection to note, but irrelevant for the time being.

"So he's all alone?" Sky frowned. "What about his Zelda?"

"A queen, and hero though he is, he's called himself an average nobody before. I'd doubt it if he could be close to her long term outside of romance," Warriors surmised. "He's said before he doesn't want to settle down, but..."

"I'm not deaf," Legend called over his shoulder and Twilight could see him holding a soot covered plush of what might've been a bunny. He walked toward them, stuffed animal tucked against him. "We'll head to Hyrule Castle in the morning. It's just about half a day's walk from here."

"What about the other animals?" Wild spoke up, frowning.

"You have Wolfie and the Rancher keeps his horse when she's around. Piyoko and Epona are staying with me."

Four frowned. "The horse I get, but a cucoo?"

"They both stay."

Twilight gestured for Four to back off, the smithy shrugged.

"Alright, how early of a start?"

"Dawn. I'd like to arrive at Castle Town as close to lunch as possible, guards are usually more inattentive about then. So, get some sleep--This place is safe, monsters don’t come near here. They're smart enough to know better than that."

Twilight wondered how many monsters had been slaughtered on the property line for those brainless creatures to steer clear.

Looking at how Legend stood, the darkening fire in his eyes, and he had a feeling it didn't matter how many, just who killed them.

Once it was finally dark and the heroes were settling, Legend mounted Epona. The mare had no tack, but he had extras back at his house. Piyoko settled in his lap.

Time noticed him mount the horse, most of the others had already fallen asleep.

"Where are you going?"

"The other side of the property." He didn't bother lying. "I'll be back well before twilight, but I need to get Epona some tack, a saddlebag and the like. Rancher's up, you can send Wolfie after me if I'm not back within a couple hours."

Time frowned. "He can go with you instead. I don't want anyone going off alone, especially you, vet."

He sighed. "Then send him. I'm leaving now. Let's go."

Without a tap, Epona took off and soon broke into a gallop. Wolfie could catch up.

Legend used his fire rod to keep their way lit, even if he and Epona knew the route by heart, he wasn't risking anything.

We're being chased! Piyoko cried.

Legend glanced back and saw piercing blue eyes only just setting off after them, not gaining on them and actually losing distance as Epona sped up.

"No, slow down a bit and let him catch up and keep pace," he told the mare. "He's a friend."

Friends with a wolf? New leaf for you, Epona commented but she slowed down a bit. Wolfie caught up soon enough and ran just beside them, Epona settling into a good speed.

Hi! What's your name, Link's wolf friend? Piyoko asked.

Legend snorted, Wolfie made no move to respond.

"He's a transformed person, Piyoko," he told her, Wolfie glanced up at him. "He can't understand you."

If Piyoko had lips she would've pouted. Aww!

Explains why Link's friends with him, Epona nickered.

Legend rolled his eyes but didn't deny nor argue. It was no new thing, his dislike of canines, foxes and coyotes were the closest he could handle. Wolfie's aura of dark magic bode the reminder that it wasn't just a wolf, it was Twilight, so he was fine with him... at least since he became aware of that fact.

They crossed the orchard in an hour and Epona came to a stop just outside his house. He slid off her and headed up toward the house. He plucked an apple from  a tree and gave it to her, murmuring a soft thanks for pushing through and galloping for so long. Piyoko perched on his shoulder.

Wolfie padded after him. He went to the back shed first, grabbing the new tack he had been meaning to take over to the farm. Epona let him saddle her and situate the bags over her. It took a little while to do so, but soon enough he was leading her to the door and going inside.

Wolfie followed him in, before Legend could tell him to wait, Twilight stood in his doorway clearly startled.

Legend sighed. "Enchanted silver along the trimming forcibly deactivates transformation and illusion magic. I was about to warn you."

"That's... incredibly simple."

"The enchantment is actually extremely complex and nearly impossible to accomplish, I just happen to know a few witches, mages, and have a lot of magical stores myself." He turned back into the house. "There's a reason I've said not to touch anything here, a lot of this stuff is cursed--purposely or not. I leave most of it out because if anyone does break in, they'll take the cursed stuff that'll let me more easily track them down than the extremely powerful stuff."

He usually kept his more powerful items on him, and now he was going to keep it all on him.

"You have cursed items?"

"A lot of them. You thought I didn't?"

He found an extra expanded adventure pouch and began gathering items. He plucked the colorful mask off his wall and put it in one pouch, then the pale human-like faced one in a separate one. He took several books from the shelves.

He was aware of Twilight silently watching him, Piyoko was likely napping outside on Epona, so nobody was there to fill the silence and Legend relished in it.

It took him a couple hours, filling a half dozen pouches with items and putting them into a satchel that he pulled on. He also switched the richly made red top Dusk gave him for his blue mail, not yet wanting to return to the green he'd worn for... ages.

He debated putting on the green cap, but he was tired of green in all honesty so he left it with the rest of the clothes and moved on.

Before exiting the cold and freshly barren house, he reapplied the magic protecting it from intruders, just in case. There were a few things left, but nothing a determined person couldn't find on the black market or even a regular mage market.

"So," Twilight said as Legend went over and mounted Epona. "Why?"

Legend didn't meet his eyes, only looking at the cold and quiet house and then the surrounding orchard. Beyond the orchard was the burned down farm, but even with the orchard strong and the house behind him still standing, it was all filled with ghosts.

"Now there's nothing left for me here anymore."

Next>>

[newtonsheffield]

Could we? Perhaps? See Anthony gift Kate her very own secret garden?

Oh Lieutenant Bridgerton raises many an eyebrow when he buys the cottage at the far end of the lane at the end of the high street. He’s newly discharged, newly engaged to Kate Sharma which has caused a bit of a stir because several of the local boys are harbouring a little crush on the Sharma girls but Kate’s never given them the time of day. And Anthony’s also purchased a shop that’s sat empty since it closed near the beginning of the war. When the man went away and never came back.

They see Anthony, trundling back down the high street the the strangest assortment of things at least twice a day. He’s got some of the local boys setting up his shop for him and books are arriving from god knows where though most of them are secondhand at the moment. What they’re curious about are the renovations he’s making to the cottage. He’s been making enquires about where he can get stone, of all things. The paint he trundles back with in his little cart leaning heavily on his cane while Miss Edwina Sharma calls out to him.

“If Kate finds out you’re doing that you’re going to be in rather a lot of trouble.”

Anthony waved her off, adjusting his hat, “Are you going to tell her?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Then I suppose I needn’t worry!” And he trundled off with his wagon full of supplies.

He paints the entire house, inside and out. Sometimes Simon is on the ladder with him, looking very irritated as Anthony gives directions, Sometimes it��s Kate with her hair neatly tied back from her face in her father’s old trousers and shirts as they build their home together. But one day, Lieutenant Bridgerton is seen, before dawn with a whole squadron of the young lads from the village, each of them promised an entire pound for their troubles. Cart after cart pulls up and at first, everyone assumes he’s building a reinforced air raid shelter. Everyone has one of those, these days. But he’s not. It’s curious. He’s building the stone wall higher in one corner of their garden, then squaring it off. By the end of the day a quarter of their large garden’s been walled off completed and a door placed in one wall. And no one, for the life of them can figure out why.

Anthony feels guilty, more than a little, that he told Kate she can’t visit him for a few days. But he just needs to get the walls built and the plants put in and then he should be right. And she’ll love it. He knows she will. And finally, with his back aching and sweat soaking his shirt, he’s done. And he can’t wait to show her.

His heart feels like it’s going to explode as he walks over to Kate’s home, leaning a little more heavily against his cane thinking, not for the first time that he’ll be glad when his car’s ready to be picked up and he doesn’t have to walk absolutely everywhere. His chest’s heaving when he raps on the front door and smiles at Mrs Sharma when she opens it, smiling at him.

“Anthony, are you staying for dinner?”

“Ah… no, Mrs Sharma not… tonight I only… wondered if I might take Kate to the cottage. I’ll have her back straight away.”

“Will you?” He heard Kate’s voice before her head appeared around the corner, “Are you finally ready to show me the mystery project that’s got everyone talking?”

“I am indeed.”

Kate grabbed her coat, tucking it around herself as she made her way out, kissing her mother’s cheek. “He will be back for dinner, Mama.”

She watched him as they took off back down the lane and he could tell she was assessing the way he was walking, eying him. “What have you done to your back?”

“Nothing.” Anthony huffed, “I slept oddly.”

“No you didn’t.”

Anthony sighed, leaning over to kiss her. “Kate, Darling, it’s part of the surprise. Can you not be cross with me, please?”

She eyed him, “I need to see what the surprise is before I know whether or not to be cross.”

“Must you always spoil my romantic gestures?” Anthony sighed as they approached the house and he spun towards her in the fading light. “I’m going to have to ask you to close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Kate,” Anthony sighed, leaning forward to kiss her again, “Please.”

She sighed and covered her eyes dramatically letting herself be lead into the garden. Anthony could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he lead her through the garden, the key weighing heavily in his pocket and he took a deep breath as he stopped. “Hold out your hand.”

He pressed the key into her palm “open your eyes.”

She stared down at the key, and her brow furrowed as she looked up at him and then her lips parted in surprise and her eyes widened. “Anthony, is this… what I think it is?”

“Open it and see.”

Her hand shook as she stepped forward, her fingers running over the rough wood of the door as she slid the key in and the door swung open.

“Anthony.”

He’d built around the old oak tree and planted several other trees, and rows and rows of freshly tilled earth stood around them where flowers would spring to life eventually.

“I um… I planted vines around the walls and eventually they’ll be covered and I’ve put flowers in here and here so the whole ground will be covered with them eventually. And I’m getting Simon to help me with a swing on the oak tree but I wanted to show you now.”

She didn’t say anything. Only stared around her, her hand stilled pressed against the wall.

“Kate do you…?”

“I love you.”

She darted forward and her arms were tight around his waist as her lips found his.

“I love you too.” He said as he pulled back, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“So this is why all the boys in town have been running around with their pockets full of sweets.”

“I’m… trying to support local shops.”

“You’re such a sweetheart.”