#these council meetings can last 3-5 business days

[garussy]

Apollo has a council.

When someone wrongs him and apologizes he must meet with the council and decide if he should forgive them or not.

The council consists of his kids, Meg, Nico, and a reluctant Reyna.

Meg always suggests some kind of revenge.

Someone could be in the middle of apologizing and Apollo will shush them and Iris message his council.

If he can’t Iris message them he will go all the way to camp and then find Reyna so they can figure out what he should do.

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 1

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: I just got this request and I absolutely LOVE it. I have no idea how many parts it will be because it's really parking my imagination. Please feel free to leave a comment! Hearing your guy's feedback is what motivates me to write!

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 

Warnings (so far): SA

Word count: 2765

(all photos are from pinterest)

It was like being born, even though I was the ripe age of 435. Well, ripe in the years of fae. It felt like being born, in the sense that I can’t really remember what came before that passing shade of violet. The way his eyes bore into me, and in that moment I knew he felt the tug too. 

Mates. 

I reeled for days, the peonies of spring my only console, my brother had always been so absent minded and utterly consumed with being High Lord. How could the cauldron be so cruel? To mate me to the High Lord of the Night. I spent the next week thinking it had to be a mistake, that my bored mind was playing tricks on me. Yet when the council met the week following, his eyes found me immediately, and I think in that moment I saw him for the very first time. 

I didn’t dare approach him, far too shy and afraid to approach the Lord of Night. Not just  because of what he was, but because of what my brother would say. By basic necessity Tamilin was a good brother, he doted upon me, kept me safe, gave me free roam of the palace. But there was a darkness about him I couldn’t place. It started when he disappeared with our father one night only to come back with two sets of Illyrian wings. I knew whatever happened was wrong, but as a woman in the spring court, I knew better than to open my mouth. Needless to say, Tamlin became High Lord of Spring shortly after, and from the wings mounted on our family walls I knew we had but one enemy, the night court. 

It wasn’t until the third council meeting (the third I was allowed to attend, after I begged my brother to let me go) that the High Lord of Night finally sought me out. 

My brother was busying himself with the politics of Day and Summer, talking the heads off of Helion and Tarquin. I kept to the shadows naturally, avoiding any untoward advances from other High Lords. I tried to stay hidden in my pocket of introvertedness, but then I felt him, and my skin buzzed, like it needed to be touched, to be held.

“You felt it too right?” he purred into the shell of my ear causing the buzzing of my skin to become electric.  

“I did,” I admit pathetically. 

“And you feel it now too,” he whispers as I finally turn to face him. The violet of his eyes pierce my soul and I’m left speechless and unable to move from their gaze. He’s otherworldly, he’s everything, and he’s also completely forbidden. 

“Do you?” I ask, hoping that whatever answer he gives can validate the fire in my bones. 

“I do,” he muses like he loves the game. “Your brother killed my family. He is my sworn enemy and I should hate you.” he breathes. I can feel his resolve slipping along with mine, for every statement he makes I can make an opposing one, “but all I want to do is kiss you right now.” he finishes. 

Fire runs through my veins as a sharp breath passes my lips. I feel my brother's presence and I evade myself from the High Lord of Night’s cage. My brother whisks me off to the Spring Court once more, but not before I glance back one last time to see that shade of violet I had already learned to look for in a crowd. 

That was a week ago. 

I stand in the foyer of the castle with my brother and Lucien as we prepare to join the council once again this week. 

“You look ravishing as always,” Lucien muses, eyes wandering me like they’re hungry. 

“It’s not often my brother lets me out of the house, I have to make a good impression somehow,” I say backhandedly. All I get in return is a sideways glance from Tamiln as we are taken to court. Today the meeting  resides in Tarquins’s court. It changes once a week to allow all High Lord’s to have the upper hand. The sea salted mist hits my face and the warm rays of the sun tan my skin as we walk into the council. 

When we arrive he’s already there. He stands out amongst the rest, not just because he’s dressed in black, but because he’s the most beautiful male I’ve ever seen. The definition of a forbidden fruit. As if to tempt me, Tamilin unknowingly  sits directly across from the High Lord of Night making it so I can’t lift my head without meeting the violet of his eyes. If you had asked me to recall the events the council discussed, I couldn’t, the only word left on my tongue was Night. Talk of tithes and power checks drifted over my head. The only thing to rouse me from my trance was the scraping of wooden chairs across marble floors, signaling that the council meeting had adjourned and that the more foundational political talks of High Lords would begin. 

I took it as my queue to step out onto one of the many terraces of the Summer Court. The room where the council was held was stifling. I thought that the breeze of the ocean might cool my skin, but no matter where I went that deafening heat followed.  

“I was hoping I would see you again,” purred a voice from behind me. 

I turned to find that piercing violet once more. “Of course why wouldn’t I be at the council meetings?” I ask, trying to act like I won’t be replaying this conversation in my mind when I return to bed tonight. 

“You’ve only been to four council meetings now, and your brother has a habit of keeping you locked up in the Spring Court.” he trails, drawing closer to the railing of which I’m leaning upon. 

“Well I intend to be at all of them from here on out,” I state.

“Any particular reason why?” he asks with a playful tone in his voice and I know what he’s insinuating. 

“Because I wish to be a part of the governing of my court, even though I am just a woman,” I say, evading his innuendo. 

“That’s a shame if you were part of my court you wouldn’t have such phrases like ‘just a woman’” he states almost as if he’s upset with the phrase. 

“I highly doubt that, women aren’t equals in any court,” I scoff. 

“What about Kallias and Viviane?” he asks. 

“What about them?” 

“Kallias sees Viviane as his equal, she is his mate and his High Lady,” he explains, stepping even closer to me, close enough that my skin starts to buzz again. 

“Viviane is special, everyone knows that,” I justify. 

“And you’re not?” he muses and my skin goes from buzzing to electrifying in three words. I feel his fingertips grazing my hand as if asking for permission. 

“My Lord we can’t do this,” I breathe out. 

“Call me Rhysand,” he says, stepping even closer. 

I step to the side, avoiding his advances, “My Lord, I won’t do this, I can’t do this.” I affirm. 

I see him bristle from my reluctance to call him by his name, “You’ll give into the idea of us. When you’re lying in that cold bed high up in the spring court thinking of all the ways I could warm it for you. When you’ve spent the week with nothing but this conversation on your mind,” he leans down to whisper in my ear. “This time next week you will beg for me to touch you, and I’ll happily oblige, mate.”

I’m so taken aback by his words that I can’t even form a quick witted response, I simply slid away and tried my best not to look back at him as I felt his gaze pierce my back. I nearly slam into Viviane and Kallias. 

“Y/n are you alright?” Viviane asks. 

“Yes, just feeling the heat of the summer court,” I lie, fanning my face. 

“Then you should come home with us today, it’s been so long since we had a girls night. I wish for your company." She smiles while taking my hand. 

“Shall we go home sister?” Tamilin appears, Lucien in tow. 

“Actually I think I’ll spend the night in the winter court with Viviane, she’s right,” I look at her and smile. “We haven’t had a girls night in quite a long time.”  

“Very well, I won’t get in the way of your sinful gossiping,” Tamilin smiles and leads Lucien away with him. 

If the summer court is sea salt and sun, then the winter court is pine and fresh fallen snow. Though they are opposites in every way, they are stunning in their own right, like all courts are. I’ve been here many times before to sit and talk with Viviane, she’s one of the only other ladies of nobility my age and a fierce friend. It’s not uncommon for me to spend a couple days here in the winter court, with Viviane and Kallias. 

I sit among a bed of furs near a warm fire adjacent to Viviane as Kallias pours both me and his mate a glass of red wine. 

“Thank you dear,” she smiles, kissing him on the cheek before he leaves us to gossip. 

“You and Kallias really are a perfect match,” I beam and Vivianane knows me well enough to know that there's a sadness there. 

“You’ll find it too someday, your mate. I know you will,” she assures me. “Now tell me, what of Lucien?” 

I roll my eyes taking a sip of my wine, “He’s still insufferable. The other day he backed me into a wall and if one of my ladies maids hadn’t walked in I swore he would’ve had his way with me.” 

She lets out an airy laugh, “I still can’t believe Tamiln allows him to play with you like that. He’s so fiercely protective of you with everyone else.” she says, taking a sip of her own wine. 

“Lucien is his best friend, he wouldn’t deny him anything, even his little sister.” I point out. 

“I suppose you’re right,” she smirks. The night is filled with goblets of wine and laughter as we continue to talk about the high lords of Prythian. We even go as far as to talk about her and Kallais’ sex lives, to which Kallias promptly came in laughing taking his wife to bed. 

I trudge down the hall to the bedroom the High Lord and Lady had set aside just for me a few years ago. I fall into the plush mattress, the world slightly spinning around me. The second I am left alone with my thoughts I recall the feeling of Rhysand’s breath on my neck and I shiver. 

The room spins and I feel my skin grow hot with need, my heart beats faster and my  head is drunk with that shade of violet. My hand subconsciously drifts down my body. 

You’re drunk? A voice cuts through my head. 

I sit up right and look around the room. The only thing I find is the flickering of the fireplace against the walls. 

The same voice chuckles and speaks again, No I am not in the room with you my mate.

“How are you doing this?” I ask in my head.

The daemati gift, and of course, I am your mate. The High Lord croons. 

“Get out of my head” I grumble. 

But you called for me, I can feel your… excitement.

“Then you're mistaken,” I hiss.

We both know that’s not true darling. 

“Goodnight,” I groan, rolling over to go to bed.

Goodnight, darling

The following days are long. Despite my better wishes there is a part of me that yearns to see the High Lord of Night again. I waltz through the spring court, picking flowers for the dinner table and evading Lucien’s advances. At night I find myself obsessively reading the romance novels I keep beside my bed. On one night in particular a certain scene in my book makes my toes curl and my thighs clench. My fingers skim the pages and the roughness of them is almost heightened. 

My my my, what a dirty book. That voice croons into my mind.

“Get out of my head,” I gripe. 

I can’t help myself when I feel your body react as it does. He purrs. 

“How on earth can you ‘feel’ my body?” I roll my eyes.

Like this. 

A tug reverberates through my body. Like there’s a string in the pit of my stomach that he just pulled. The sensation causes me to lose a breath as further arousal goes to my legs. He lets out a dark chuckle. 

“Don’t ever do that again,” I order him

But you loved it so much, He purrs and I can practically feel him smirking in my head. 

“You’re an insufferable bastard High Lord,” I growl at his persistence. 

Call me Rhysand. 

“I see no reason to drop informalities, my lord.” I quip back. 

My name will fall from your lips one day, and when it does I’ll be sure to swallow it with my own. Until then, I’ll leave you with this. Goodnight darling. 

I feel another tug at the bond reverberating through me and I nearly let out a moan at the feeling. I snuggle into my sheets that suddenly feel as if they are constricting around my body. I toss and turn and try to push all thoughts from my mind, but I can’t stop the idea of the High Lord's lips on mine. His night black hair in my hands, the way his moans might fall from those lips.

The next morning I take my breakfast in one of the lounge areas, still reeling from last night. My thoughts still wander to the image of his face, and how his eyes light me on fire. The door opens and a head of auburn hair pokes in. 

“Forgive me, I didn’t know you were in here,” Lucien says like he has regret, yet he sits down across from me. 

“No worries, I'm almost finished eating,” I reply, placing my tea down and getting ready to get up.. 

“And I secretly hoped to spend some time with you,” he sighs, sinking into the couch. 

“Perhaps later, I wanted to read in the garden,” I stand and make my way towards the door. 

“Perhaps now,” he growls. I feel a cold hand grasp my arm hauling me into the wall. 

“Lucien,” I hiss as my back is pressed into the wall, his frame looming over mine. 

“You are such a tease,” he smirks before kissing my neck hungrilly. His hands roam my body pulling me impossibly close. 

“I’ve never once given you any inclination that I wanted you,” I gripe at him. 

“That’s what makes you so desirable my dear,” he practically moans into my neck. 

I gather my strength and push him off of me, “I’ll remind you that I am Tamlin’s little sister and while he favors you his favor only goes so far. One word from me and he’ll send you back to the Autumn Court.” I growl at him, and it seems to be enough as he backs away and leaves me to reel from what just happened in silence. 

I sit down on the couch and take deep breaths to ground myself. 

What’s going on? Are you alright? That voice like glorious night cuts through my mind and I almost feel thankful for how it brings me back to reality. 

“Yes I’m fine,” I say back. 

What happened? I felt your fear through the bond.

“It’s nothing, just Lucien.” I dismiss him. 

Did he touch you? 

I almost swore I heard anger laced in his voice. “Well I am his favorite plaything,” I roll my eyes.

And Tamlin allows him to touch you like this? 

“As long as my virtue isn’t completely compromised so that I am still of value when he inevitably marries me off, yes. He doesn’t care.” I divulge, and quite stupidly I realize. 

As if I needed another reason to hate him.

“He is still my brother, my Lord,” I remind him, though I secretly feel the same. 

Don’t you mean, Rhysand?

“No I don’t, my Lord,” I say, drawing out the last words. 

I’ll see you tomorrow my darling, I relish the idea of seeing you in the golden light of the day court. 

[chroniclesofbts]

Break my Walls P.7

Genre: A/B/O, Poly BTS and Reader

Warnings: angst, omegaspace, eventual smut, slow burn, angst, fluff, polyamorous relationship, sexual themes, implied sexual interactions, name calling, cursing.

If you’re not 18+ please, do not interact.

As always, my works do not represent BTS in any way, this is purely a work of fiction.

3 years ago

"Thank you for meeting with me Kang Dae, I'm sure you are very busy, especially with the Choi Pack pulling their support. I wonder, how many packs will follow" Namjoon begins, taunting him.

"I don't think anyone will, we have strong allies, Kim" Kang replies, icily.

"That's not what we have been hearing" Jin voices

"Shut it, Omega, let your Alpha do the talking" Kang barks, causing the entire Kim pack to growl.

"I would chose my words very carefully Kang, we happen to have a lot of information about your underhand deals that I am sure the council would love to hear about." Yoongi spits out at the man, unable to hold the bite in his voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about" Kang speaks, playing dumb.

"Lack of education for omegas, use of omegas as pleasure objects and breeding, omega negligence, trading omegas for alphas with other packs, murder of omegas and pups alike, shall I go on? I am sure you don't need to be reminded about the Im pack." Namjoon starts

"What do you want, Kim" Kang demands

"An omega and for you to leave our pack out of every affair you have" Namjoon states simply.

"An omega, take your pick!" He exclaims, "whoever you want, but after, you leave and never return"

"Y/N" Yoongi states, leaving no room for discussion.

"Ah, I am afraid she has already been traded. She was due for training but a buddy of mine wanted a nice fresh omega with no training for their packs impending rut cycles. She was the perfect candidate, had I known you had a soft spot-" he was cut off by Namjoon shoving him to the wall by his throat. Tightening his hand on his throat, Namjoon glared heatedly at the pathetic man clawing at his hand.

"When" Namjoon grit out.

"Yesterday I made the deal, she left 20 minutes ago' Kang wheezed.

"Which pack" Yoongi questioned, inches away from harming the alpha.

"Blackthorn, in America" Kang lied, praying they wouldn't see through him.

"You just made a huge mistake" Namjoon stated, dropping Kang and leaving the pack in a hurry.

"We were too late, weren't we?" Jimin whimpered, taking in the anger on his pack members faces from where he and the others had been waiting outside the office.

"We will find her again, even if we have to search in every pack for her. Hopefully we aren't too late" He whispers the last part to himself.

3 days prior to the Lunar Ceremony

Looking around at his pack, Namjoon can feel the lack of hope of finding her. They have searched every pack in North and South America. We even went back to the Kang pack, only to find out that Kang was killed during an attack from another pack.

"Joon, we have another invitation to a Lunar Ceremony. This one has 7 packs total invited." Jin spoke, breaking Namjoon from his thoughts.

"7 packs? That's smaller than normal. Who is the host, any packs we know attending?" He questions

"Hosted by the Moon pack, we haven't seen them in what, 5 years? The only name I recognize on here is the Im pack." Jin replied, "Should I respond the same as the rest of the packs?"

"Say yes, they have been our allies for a long time, we should make sure they know we are still allies with all of the attacks going on recently" Namjoon replied, "I will let the rest of the pack know to prepare some bags. Ask about staying on their territory, the Maknae's need to let loose some."

Present Day

Y/N's POV

I stare at the box on my porch, holding the dress from Jisoo. Grabbing the box, I sigh and take it inside. I walk into my room and set it on my nest, going to take a shower to scrub off the sweat from setting up all day. I make sure to shower quickly, in case I do decide to go to the Lunar Ceremony. I walk over to my nest and open the box, pulling the dress out and setting it carefully on my bed. The dress is made of a silk material, has thin straps that cross multiple times on the back, a split corset in the front, and a high thigh split. The dress was beautiful, it would be a waste to not be worn. I put the dress on, heart starting to race with how well it fits me. I decide that going to the ceremony for a few hours wouldn't hurt and since I'm wearing red I shouldn't be approached by any other packs. I curl my hair and do light make up, since it will be dark I don't want anything drawing attention to me. I look at the time and realize I am already running late. I put on my sandals and begin the trek to the woods. I can already hear the music playing, and the voices of the packs celebrating.

"Y/N! You came!" Chan yelled across the woods, I cringed already regretting my decision. Chan runs over to me and wraps me in a big hug, "I am so happy you came, you're going to have so much fun!"

"I can still go back" I state, shimmying my way out of his arms.

"Come on, come show Jisoo the dress on you" He exclaims, dragging me towards Jisoo and the rest of the pack.

"I knew it would look amazing on you! Are you sure you don't want to find a pack of your own?" Jisoo questions, standing in a skin-tight sleeveless red dress. "Almost every pack is here, why don't you help Chan find a pack tonight" Jisoo prompts, pushing us both to the closest pack with yellow dresses and shirts on.

"Hi! Im pack" The tallest man says, "I'm Jay, I see you're a part of Jisoo's pack, and you're looking for a pack to join" he smiled at Chan, who, for once, looked timid.

"Hi, I'm Y/N!" I said, "This is Chan, he's normally not like this, I typically can't get him to stop talking." I joke, linking arms with Chan, "I think he just needs some food in his system, feel free to find him later." I smile and guide him towards the food.

"Alright, hot shot, what happened" I question.

"I don't know, I just wasn't feeling the connection" He whispered.

"So, you want to find your mate, or mates, and their pack?"

"I guess, I just hear about them and is it wrong to think that I could have one or more mates?"

"I think that you find your own pack and they become mates, or else we wouldn't have so many packs that form and separate." I share, "But we will find the perfect pact for you, I promise, I know how much this means to you" I comfort him.

"Thank you, I know this isn't your thing, but it means a lot to me" He responds

"I think you have some admirers" I nudge Chan towards the two men wearing white and standing on the edge of the forest.

"They're beautiful" Chan whispered. I grab his hand and pull him towards the two, causing their eyes to widen. I push Chan slightly in their direction and watch him walk the rest of the way on his own. If this is the only thing to come of the night, it was worth coming. I turn to head back to the table of food when I smell lavender and coconut, stopping me in my tracks. They can't be here, Jisoo wouldn't befriend packs like them. I look around in alarm, trying to pinpoint where he is, when orange blossom and lilac invades my senses. My heart begins to bleed from the wounds I thought had healed. The aching returning full force. I lock eyes with Jisoo, and standing right in front of her is a face I will never forget, Kim Seokjin. Jisoo points in my direction, causing Jin to whip around and search the area. I freeze, my breath caught in my throat, hair standing on edge. What if Kang wants me back, I can't go back with everything that I know. So focused on staying out of Jin's line of sight, I don't realize that the scent of lavender and coconut getting closer. I turn, ready to flee, when I run straight into a chest, Jung Hoseok. I slowly lift my eyes up and meet his, the smile on his face and tears in his eyes make me pause in my steps.

"We though you were dead" He whispered, brokenly. "Kang-"

"No" I cut him off, "I don't know why you came, or what you gain, but I want no part in it" I speak, words full of venom. His face morphs into shock, then hurt.

"What? What are you talking about, we-" He starts again, only to be cut off by another voice from behind me.

"Y/N?" Jimin's voice asked, raspy as if he hadn't been using it very often.

I take a deep breath and push past Hoseok, not wanting to stay for any more reunions.

"Wait!" Jimin yelled, grabbing my arm and turning me towards him. "Have you been here the whole time? You were never in America?" He asked.

"Why would I have gone to America? Of course I have been here the whole time, didn't have much choice. Your pack saw to that, thanks, by the way" I jerked my arm out of his hand, and walked away.

"My pack did what?" Namjoon's voice questioned.

"I don't have time to go down memory lane" I respond, continuing my pathing to my house.

"You joined the Moon pack?" Jin's voice came, full of emotion.

"No mark though" Hoseok said.

"I didn't, I don't want a pack. That's why I am in her pack colors, so people leave me alone" I comment, "not that its working"

"Y/N, please, talk to us" Jungkook's voice came. By now we had made it to my house, just as it started to rain. I unlocked my door, paused and cursed myself for being a good person, and held the door open for the pack to enter.

"I don't know where your lodging is, but my house isn't close to anything so, unless you want to get soaked, you should get inside" I say, watching the rain get harder.

"Thank you" They chorused as they entered.

"You guys look like shit" I point out, seeing the bags under their eyes and the lifeless eyes.

"I- we know" Namjoon said, "Can you tell us what happened if you didn't go to America? We were told you were traded to a pack in America, we search all of the packs in both North and South America"

"Why? Wanted to rub it in my face that you and Kang broke me? Turned me into a bad omega?" I spat

"Turned you- What are you talking about?"Jin demanded

"I was taken 'shopping' over here, then left in the cold with nothing. You just had to play with me, test if I was following Kang's rules, then tell him how bad I failed"

"We weren't working with Kang" Yoongi said angrily, "We were blackmailing him to get you out of his pack and into ours"

"Right, sure" I say, not convinced, "The rain will clear in the next hour, I want you gone when it ends" I turn and walk to my room to change. I open my door, aware of the eyes on my back. I walk to the bathroom and take a shower, trying to heat up my body, feeling the shock wearing off. I can't hold the tears back, covering my mouth to keep the sobs from reaching the pack in the living room. I feel the water start to turn cold, deciding to get out before I freeze. I change into sweatpants and a loose T-Shirt Chan left the last time he was over. I glance up as a knock rings out on my door, dreading the conversation I know is coming.

"Come in" I call, waiting to see who it is. Jimin's head pokes around the door, eyes widening at the sight of my nest.

"You nest!" He shouts excitedly, causing footsteps to come pounding towards my room. Jin pushed the door open, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, tears filling his eyes.

"Oh my, it's beautiful" Jin whispered, causing me to shrink back into my nest.

"Did you need something?" I ask, looking at Jimin.

"We want to explain our side, but maybe not all of us. It may be easier if Jin or Joon explain, or both" He said, his arm going up to scratch his neck.

"Please" Jin begged, "Let us tell you what happened on our side"

"Okay, but after, you leave" I agree. Jin and Namjoon make their way into the room, "Jimin too, I have questions"

The rest of the pack left to the living room, leaving Jin, Namjoon, and Jimin standing in the middle of my room. They sit on the ground in front of my nest, not daring to ask to enter.

"We went to the Kang pack on behalf of the Choi pack, along with the Lee pack. Choi was withdrawing their help and alliance to Kang due to the trading of omegas illegally. When we did some digging, with help of some information from you. Lack of education for omegas, use of omegas as pleasure objects and breeding, omega negligence, trading omegas for alphas with other packs, murder of omegas and pups, we just- I couldn't let you stay. Our pack had taken to you faster than anyone we've ever met. We went as a pack the morning you had disappeared to ask for you in exchange for us not going to the council and Kang said he gave you to a buddy in America. Yoongi almost killed hime right there. We left immediately for America and searched every pack, only to find out he lied about America. When we went back, Kang was dead. We found you by luck, our pack isn't like Kang's. You have to believe us." Namjoon finished.

"That's why I woke up alone in your nest" I directed my statement to Jimin, who nodded.

"If I had known what was going to happen, I would have never left. We had to have the meeting as a pack, Kang demanded it, now we know why." Jimin spoke, keeping his eyes to the ground.

"Well, I don't know what I believe, but thank you for explaining. You can go now" I say, feeling the hole in my chest getting bigger. I shouldn't have gone tonight, it only led to confusion and opened wounds.

"We will be here for the rest of the week, if you want to talk" Jin said, standing up and leading Jimin out of the room.

"Sweet dreams Y/N" Namjoon said, closing the door behind him. I listened for the front door to close before closing my eyes and letting the tears fall.

Taglist open

@braveangel777 @minjianhyung @kiki-zb @svnbangtansworld @m00njinnie

[wardenparker]

The King's Queen - chapter 5

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* Fluff. It's just fluff. Absolute, pure fluff with fluff on top. Summary: Dinner is a much needed retreat for you and Javi after such a busy and harrying today. Notes: After the emotional weight of the last chapter, we had to do something a little lighter.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

Wearily, Javier rubs his forehead and looks up at Julius. The afternoon had been spent with the council and he had ended up deciding that two of them needed to be replaced due to their obvious loyalty to Lucas. “Julius, will you see if the Princess is free to join me for a later dinner?”

His assistant nods, stepping away to pick up a discreet palace phone that will allow him to dial your suite - or any other room - directly. The line rings twice before it connects and he hears your voice on the other end. The fluid Spanish makes him nod approvingly and he relays the king's request accordingly. After a moment he murmurs a polite goodbye and hangs up, returning to the king's side with a smile. "The Princess has been waiting for your call," he reports with obvious enjoyment of that fact. "She is working in her suite and can meet you at any time, your Majesty."

He hums, a tired smile on his face. “Have the chef prepare the dinner that I had requested this morning, along with a red wine from the cellar. Champagne is perhaps too festive.”

Julius nods again, his go-to reaction for almost anything, but he hesitates slightly. "If I may, your Majesty?"

“Of course.” He has learned over the course of the afternoon that Julius has his finger on the pulse of the country and the palace. Invaluable in his contribution to his father’s reign.

"A case of pink gin found its way into the palace this morning, and I understand it is a favourite of the Princess's?" He tilts his head in amusement, as if the choice is endearingly whimsical. "If you intend to have the very same dinner for the very same purpose as you set down this morning, perhaps a cocktail could be arranged to accompany your dessert? As a treat for her Highness, but not one that would seem inappropriately...boisterous. Given the events of the day."

“That would be much appreciated.” Javier nods and sighs. “It’s been a long day and I think we could all use a drink. Whatever cocktail is created, give one to the staff as well, a toast to King Miguel.”

"Very gracious, your Majesty." The staff will appreciate the gesture, he knows that. The small things do not go unnoticed in a place like this. "And if I may be so bold..." When he receives a nod, Julius returns it with his own. "You did very well today, sire. Allowing yourself to enjoy some personal time is not inappropriate."

“Thank you.” He’s bone tired and sad, but looking forward to seeing you. Something about his father’s death is bothering him and he hasn’t figured out what it is. “Start putting together suitable replacements to Rodriguez and Estrada.” He shakes his head. “Tomorrow. You have also earned some personal time. Once dinner is served, instruct the staff to go home. Dishes can be washed tomorrow. It will not make the palace crumple.”

"Yes, your Majesty." He'll relay the message but has his doubts that it will be followed. The palace staff has a lot of work to do with an engagement, a funeral, a crowning, and plenty of other official events in the near future. "I will have suggestions for replacement cabinet members by morning."

"Thank you." He nods and motions for Julius to leave as he stands, groaning slightly at the ache in his back. "Have a good night." He will have dinner with you and then see if he can sleep. The last moments of his father are haunting him and he hates it.

******

It isn’t difficult to make sure that you’re ready for dinner at the right time and place, considering Javi’s rooms are still directly next door to yours for now. You had even located the door that connects your suites but decided that it might not be appropriate for you to appear in his rooms for dinner that way. Instead you had unlocked it, remembering what he said about the lock being on your side of the door, and gone over to the proper front door of Javi’s suite in the hallway to be announced.

By the time the knock on the door comes, Javi’s changed into something more casual, more him. Trousers and a short-sleeved button up, he feels the weight of the day drain away as he walks to the door to open it himself.

He’s really quite unfairly handsome, to the point that you can feel your cheeks burn when he so much as smiles at you, and tonight you can see the relief in his face when he opens the door to see you standing there. “How was the rest of your day, querido?”

“Margarita, it is good to see you.” He reaches for your hand to draw you into the room and leans in to kiss your cheek. “It was filled with headache inducing meetings. How was yours?”

“Far less stressful than yours, I think. But I will be happy to not be stuck with pins again for a long while.” Being in his arms has such a deep sense of security to it and you sigh without realizing. Whatever cologne he wears smells like the sea and you wonder if he made the choice consciously or not.

“Was it successful though?” He asks with a small chuckle as he leans back. “I heard that designer is good.”

“She was lovely. And very clever. I’ll have a few things quickly and more things over time.” When he laughs he smiles again and it makes you melt more than a little. “The things for the funeral and the state dinner will be done first, of course.”

“You will also have to choose a designer to make your wedding dress.” He reminds you. “As well as coronation gowns.”

With the door shut behind you, you don’t mind taking the moment of intimacy and leaning into his side. “How soon do you want to have the wedding?”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to be crowned as queen when I am crowned king, or if you wanted to wait.” Javi guides you over to the table that has been set for two in his dining area.

"It would be less of a to-do and less of an expense to have us both crowned together." With the responsibility of decision making falling to the two of you now rather than simply following orders, there is more to consider than just how soon you want to be married. "We could be married before the summer is over and have our coronation in fall or winter, if you want them close together?" The English king had waited almost a year for his coronation but you know from reading that Balearic tradition has coronations much more quickly.

“We could do a joint coronation and wedding?” Javi suggests, knowing the expense of either event will be large. “Have the wedding and the next day the coronation? Or would that be too much at once?”

“It would certainly be a big event.” The possibility is one that you had never considered, and you sit down at the table with him with an intense look of concentration. “The honeymoon tradition of touring the islands would be doubly useful, if we did that. It would be an extended celebration. Of course it would be a lot of work to put on the palace staff, but it would save a lot of trouble with planning. Overlapping guest lists and visitors, that sort of thing.”

“And in the end, instead of two separate, costly events, we essentially have one. It would end up saving the people money. We could also declare it a holiday week for them.” Javi suggests.

“We should give ourselves time to plan.” His enthusiasm for the idea is enough to convince you that it is worth pursuing, and you know you’ll be on board for whatever he ends up deciding. “How would you feel about waiting until autumn to have both events together?” While you may not have reservations about marrying him, you’re realistic about the fact that it will take quite a lot of work to get both things done. A few months is practically no time at all.

“That would work.” Javi nods. “There will be several coordinators that would work with you on it.” He promises. “Julius would have that information.”

“I’ll have my own assistant in a few days,” you tell him, sitting back at the table as a footman appears with a silver service cart bearing your dinner. “Julius is wonderful but I don’t want him to be overwhelmed or overworked.”

“Did you have someone in mind?” He smiles and nods at the footman as he bows. “Thank you, Juan.” He picks up the wine bottle and pulls the cork out. “We will not need anything else.”

The footman goes again without a word, and the comfortable quiet of a meal shared just between the two of you sounds perfect for tonight. “My brother,” you tell him honestly, watching as Javi pours you each a glass of wine. “He has been our father’s personal assistant for a few years now and knows me better than anyone. He’s also fluent in Spanish. And has a good eye for fashion, so I trust him with my clothing.” Looking up at Javi, you see the surprise on his face clear as day. “Is that alright?”

“That is perfectly okay, margarita.” He assures you quickly, smiling. “You will have your brother here with you, so I approve.” He is an only child, but from what you had told him, you and your brother get along very well.

“I think you’ll like him.” Sebastian was always the one who watched Nic Cage movies with you and encouraged you to pursue the things that made you happy, so you can’t see someone as kind as Javi not being endeared to him. “So,” you hum softly when he gets up to move to the cart. “What have you requested for our dinner tonight?”

“I requested your favorite meal.” He admits as he lifts the cloches and picks up the plates to bring over to the table. “Based off your social media.”

“Javi.” The china dishes are overflowing with penne coated in luxurious vodka sauce, heaped with piles of stunning shrimp, spinach, basil, and zucchini. Toasted bread lathered in garlic confit is even tucked into the side of the dish like a halo of culinary perfection. It looks even better than when you would get it from the Italian restaurant at the end of your block - and far better than when you tried to make it yourself. “This is absolutely sweet of you. And it smells incredible.”

“Good.” He’s relieved that he got it right and you seem delighted by the prospect of the meal. “Our chefs created this, so hopefully it is exactly what you would experience back home.”

“The company is better,” you venture, knowing that he’s probably far too tired and emotionally wrung out for anything close to flirting, but you are better honest.

You are kind, and lying, because he knows he is not good company for now. He smiles and motions towards the food. “Then let us see how it tastes.”

It’s heavenly. You would never say it to the faces of the family that own your favourite Italian restaurant, but the palace chef has outstripped their own recipe by a mile. The shrimp and zucchini are perfectly grilled and the sauce is like silk over everything. The hum that escapes your lips is as enthusiastic as your smile, and you’re glad to be indulging with him in private. This bowl of comfort food is not going to be eaten in a ladylike manner.

“This is delicious.” Javi moans as he swallows his first bite. Happy he had decided on a red wine to balance it out, it pairs perfectly and he takes a sip, relaxing even more. “We need to make private meals a regular thing.” He decides, looking at you to see what you think.

“Date night.” Is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and you fluster slightly at how juvenile that sounds. “I—I mean…I agree. Time to ourselves is valued.”

“Date night.” Javi nods, perking up at your approval. “Perhaps I can show you some of my favorite places?” He asks. “It is important to me to show our people that we are interested in their businesses. My father would have me travel and eat local restaurants often.”

“I would love that.” It’s the furthest thing from what you expected from him, and that is sort of a delightful surprise. He wants to go out and be around his people instead of simply staying safe in the palace, which is utterly wonderful. As beautiful as these walls are, you can see already how they might feel like a gilded cage after a while.

“It is always nice to see how people are thriving.” Javi hums. “Or struggling. It is our duty to make sure that they do not struggle because of our decisions, although it is impossible to care for every individual.” They are his father’s words, carefully counseled time and time again. Once Javi had thought him simply not trying hard enough, but he now understands how much pressure he had been under. And this is just his first day as king.

“We will do everything we can.” From the position you’re in, that could be a whole lot. It could be enormous, the difference you could make. “A large or a small difference happens in many different ways.”

“Yes it does.” He’s glad you understand that, knowing that it would be difficult to explain if someone didn’t already know.

"We cannot expect the very beginning of things to be without a few bumps in the road." Whether you're talking about your relationship or his reign is up for debate, but you smile anyway. "But we will do everything we can."

“You are extraordinary.” He stops eating, just staring at you as if you are the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen in his life. “Truly.”

"What?" The comment takes you completely off guard and you look up from your plate to see him giving you every ounce of his concentration and focus. "I—how? Exactly?"

“You have withstood every obstacle that you have faced in such a short time here with grace and wisdom.” He reaches out and takes your hand. “I am lucky that you will be by my side.”

"I feel like I've hardly done anything," you admit, but when you look away from him bashfully you end up watching the way his thumb strokes methodically over the ring that he put on your finger just hours ago. "But I'm here to support you, querido. And if that ends up meaning this...these moments of quiet and encouragement? Then I have the easiest job in the world. Because I truly never want you to doubt yourself for even a moment."

“It has been a difficult day.” He admits quietly, “but being here with you is helping. You are a very calming presence. I appreciate you being there with me today, during the speech.”

"I would never have missed it." You squeeze his hand gently between your fingers and offer him a smile. "You really are much more charming and sweet than you could ever know. It is..." Cheeks burning all over again, your eyes hold on his and you can feel yourself soften even more. "It is impossible not to be drawn to you. I'm sure you won't have any problem winning the people over quickly."

“I am worried about that.” He sighs, looking down at your joined hands. “For a long time, I have been viewed as a wild child or a ‘playboy’.” He huffs. “It is my fault, I tried to ignore my obligations to my future. But I am afraid I have - how you say - ‘shot myself in the foot’?”

"Then I guess it's a good thing that you're about to be married, isn't it?" It will help in calming his image. There is no doubt about that. "A few months of being photographed with a princess who's crazy about you should pretty much do the trick."

“Where do I find such a creature?” His grin is small but he’s smiling. “Can you point me to her?”

This is exactly the charm that you're talking about, and you giggle slightly despite knowing how silly it is. "I have it on good authority that you've already found her."

“I have?” He looks surprised and then very pleased with himself. “Then I must confess that I have a slight crush on the Princess of Mallorca and the future queen.”

"Only slight?" Your lips twist up into a pleased grin and you can't resist the urge to tease him. Although is it teasing if it's the truth? "How disappointing. I have it on good authority that she would have called it love at first sight."

“A king must keep some secrets.” He teases. “Though I do confess that she stole my heart already.”

"I hope someday you feel comfortable letting me be your secret keeper, and that you might want to be mine as well." When privacy is so guarded, having a person to trust above everyone else means more than can be expressed. And you know that for all their problems, your parents were each other's vaults. You had always hoped for love as solid as that.

“I have already decided that you would be that person for me.” Javi admits, biting his lip and looking at you softly. “If that’s okay?”

"Of course it is." The two of you slowly start to eat again, keeping hold of your joined hands on one side of the table. "I, um...I unlocked the door, by the way. That goes between our rooms."

“You did?” His eyes dart towards the door and then back to you. “Do you— I mean— is it okay if—” he shakes his head. “Would you be comfortable if I came into your room tonight?” He asks, his voice low. “I don’t wish to be alone.”

"I didn't think you would," you admit gently. Grief is a remarkably lonesome bedfellow. "You can certainly come join me later if you like. Or...I could simply stay here? Whichever you prefer."

“You would be more comfortable in your room, sí?” He asks, frowning slightly. “Unless you would prefer to be here?”

"We're both so worried about the other person's comfort." It's sweet, actually. And it makes your heart beat just a little faster that his first thought is your comfort and not his own sadness. "I've only slept in my bed once, querido. I would not mind getting used to sharing it, however innocently."

“I fear I am not in the correct headspace to do much more than hold you.” Javi sighs. He would have loved to touch you under any other circumstance, but he can’t tonight.

"And that is in no way a disappointment," you assure him immediately. "I would be a remarkably insensitive kind of partner to expect anything of you today, Javi."

He exhales slowly, relieved that you don’t expect him to perform. “Thank you, margarita.”

"You have had a day from hell, querido." A fact with is surely an understatement, but you feel slightly reassured when he forks up another bite of his dinner. "There is no reason for you to be alone, but there is also no reason for anything to happen between us until we are ready."

“If my father had not collapsed, I would have been eager to touch you.” He admits. “I had hoped you had not wished to wait for marriage.”

"I really don't see the need." It's not as though either of you is going to be seeing anyone else - that idea sort of flew out the window with both the betrothal and the actual engagement. "Under other circumstances I might have come to see you for dinner wearing much more...creative things under my dress. But I have no doubt that time will come."

Javi swallows harshly, imagining you in something creative. He nods. “It does not have to be a race.” He sighs and decides it’s best to bring it up. “You will have to have a doctor’s examination before we can be together now.” He explains. “Since I am king. Just to make sure you are not pregnant.”

"Lovely." You don't roll your eyes despite feeling like you want to. It may be an antiquated tradition, but it does technically make sense. "They can ascertain that information with a blood test or an ultrasound if they want to be truly thorough. There is no reason for a doctor to examine anything else. It's not as if science believes the hymen is prove of virginity anymore."

“That’s what I meant.” He shakes his head quickly. “Just a test to prove you are not carrying another man’s child.”

"In that case, I don't have any objections." If you were marrying anyone beside a king, you probably would object loudly, but this is a fairly unique circumstance. "I'll arrange to see the royal physician soon. To get that obstacle out of our path."

“I am sorry.” He sighs quietly and shakes his head. “I know it is too much to deal with.”

"You're worth a little bit of trouble," you tell him matter-of-factly, putting down your fork so you can pick up your wine glass without letting go of his hand.

“I would not blame you if you ran for the hills.” He pokes at his dinner now, suddenly unhappy with the idea of doing this by himself. If you wished to go, he would not stop you. After all, his father is dead so he could break the betrothal if he wishes.

"But I won't." Putting a tiny bit more pressure on his fingers to get him to look up at you, your head tilts to the side as you take in his pout. "If you had looked at me today and said we needed to go make our vows immediately, I would have done it. I wouldn't have hesitated. This isn't just about the promise our parents made anymore." Your expression softens a little and you end up shrugging, like you have nothing to defend yourself with. "I might have been teasing you before, but...I meant it. It took a matter of hours for me to start falling in love with you. It's...it's as simple as that."

He closes his eyes and his own fingers squeeze yours. “I imagined putting you to bed in my bed.” He confesses with a soft smile. “Waking up with you in my arms and seeing how you like being kissed awake.”

"Next time I fall asleep stargazing, there won't be any reason to hesitate." It had been mildly embarrassing, realizing that you'd fallen asleep on that blanket with him on the cliff, but the way he took such tender care of you last night had wiped away any concern. "Kisses are one of my absolute favourite ways to wake up."

“I will keep that in mind.” He smiles and chuckles before he takes another bite of his meal. You really do seem to calm him and he’s grateful for it.

Conversation becomes idle while you finish your meals. It turns to stories from when you were both younger, small anecdotes to serve as a way to get to know each other better. You're about to migrate out to the balcony to watch the waves and gaze at the stars when he remembers that there is also dessert to be shared.

“There is tiramisu and cheesecake.” Javi murmurs. “It seems you love both of them.”

"I have a sweet tooth," you admit unapologetically. Apparently, it also extends to sweet men.

“Then we will always have a dessert to end the evening.” He smiles and brings the desserts over to the table on the balcony to share in the open air.

"And what is this?" The bottle of something pink in an ice bucket catches your attention on your way past the service cart and you pick it up. "Something special to drink, as well?"

“Your pink gin.” Javi admits, picking up the card that is by the bucket and reads. “It is called the clover club cocktail.” He tells you as he looks up. “It is supposed to be tart and sweet, with raspberries.”

"That sounds both delicious and terribly fancy," you decide, scooping up the two empty glasses on the cart along with the bottle. "Perfect for dessert."

“I wanted tonight to be perfect for you.” He admits, slightly sheepish. “I wanted you to be sure about your answer and I wanted to see how romance would play out between us.”

"This was your original dinner plan, wasn't it?" Remembering that he had said something about it earlier in the day, you set the bottle and the glasses down on the little table on his balcony and take up both of his hands in yours. "It's all been perfect. Just so you know."

“It was.” He flushes slightly and looks proud. “I had hoped that tonight would be far different than it has been, but I am glad I am still here with you.”

"You're a king, Javi, not a god. There are some things even you can't control." Opening your arms a little, you offer him a moment of comfort if he wants it.

Moving into your embrace with a chuckle, he can’t help but tease you. “If this was two hundred years ago, I would have been worshiped as a god.”

"Mm." You hum slightly and half-laugh along with him. "Tell me it's a kink and I'll make sure it still happens for you."

He stares at you for a moment in disbelief before he barks out a laugh. “You are not serious.” He pulls you closer to him and shakes his head.

"Nothing wrong with a worship or a praise kink." Still, you hug him back and don't press. It's enough to hear him laugh after such a long and stressful day.

“I have both.” He presses closer to you, feeling like himself completely now. “I just need to find out your own buttons.”

"They're not so difficult to figure out." Just standing with your arms around each other is infinitely relaxing, and you sigh quietly against his chest. "I've never really tried anything too adventurous."

"We have to make sure that those activities are not leaked." He snorts, halfway amused and slightly mortified at the idea of his sexual proclivities being talked about in great detail even more than they already are. "But we can try to experiment with almost anything you want."

“I’m not asking you to fuck me in public or to collar me or anything.” You promise him with a grin. “We should have no problem whatsoever keeping our private life private.”

"Or sharing." He shakes his head seriously. "I do not like to share. I was an only child."

A small, amused smile plays on your lips and you press a kiss to his cheek before leading him over to the little table to sit down together again. “I don’t like to share, either. And I have two siblings.”

He chuckles quietly and nods. "It must have been exciting, having siblings to share with. I had cousins, but it was not the same."

“I don’t know that I’d call it exciting.” At the table, you pour out two cocktails and set one down beside him. “Seb is the only boy, so he got unconscious favoritism from my dad. And my younger half-sister got the extremely conscious favoritism from my stepmother, since that’s her biological child.” You shrug slightly and take a sip of your drink, humming at the fruity, floral notes. “At least my brother and I have always gotten along.”

"And you have felt like the outcast." Javi guesses, aware of that feeling intimately. He has always felt like he was out of place himself. Born to the wrong parents, the wrong place. He had felt like he wasn't supposed to be a prince or a king one day. He had felt alone, even surrounded by his family.

“They didn’t mean to do it, but…yes.” Your family spent your entire life preparing to send you away. And aside from your brother, it seems like they mostly forgot that you were their family in the first place.

He sighs and picks up his glass to hold it up in a toast. "To feeling like an outcast and finding each other – perhaps because of it."

“Here, here.” Your glass clinks against his with a soft ringing sound and you half-laugh under your breath. “I suppose we’re proof that you can be surrounded by people and feel utterly alone. But…I haven’t felt that way since I met you.”

"I have felt nothing but peace since I have met you." Javi reveals. "Peace and finally a sense that I belong somewhere...with you."

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have known each other before this.” His words wash over you like summer sunrise, making you brighten and hum in his warmth all at once. To know that he feels exactly the same way you do is an unlooked for - though desperately wished for - gift. “I used to imagine I could be brave enough to write you letters. To become…pen pals or something. To know you before the day I was sent for. But clearly I was never brave enough.”

"My father had decided it was best that I not know until now." He understands why he had chosen that path, Javi had been a very defiant prince for a long time. However, once he had met you, he now knows he would have looked forward to the future with you if he had met you earlier. "Perhaps it was for the best, but I am grateful that I know he approves of our match."

“I meant what I said,” you tell him quietly, coaxing him to share the sweet ending of your meal by setting a fork in front of him. “I might not have known him well, but I know he would have been proud of you today.”

"For a long time, I tried to convince myself that his approval did not matter, but it does. I wish to make sure that he will be satisfied with the way I care for his people." Javi confesses.

“Then we will make sure that whatever steps we take, you are satisfied with them for yourself, and your father’s memory.” Being adult enough to admit to wishing for your parents’ approval is not something you’re going to downplay in the slightest, considering you go through nearly every day feeling a semblance of the same thing. “When I have trouble with a decision, I usually ask myself what my mother would have done. Or what I think she would have encouraged. I think it helps. To have that kind of moral compass.”

"I will have to remember that." He smiles at you softly and takes another drink of the cocktail. "This is very good. I see why you like your pink gin."

“It’s a little out of the ordinary. Unexpected.” You smile, taking in the sight of him beside you in the moonlight. “I’m finding that I like things that are a bit unexpected.”

"Is that so?" Javi smiles slightly and shakes his head. "There is a lot that will be unexpected in our lives, margarita."

“Then it will be an adventure.” Reaching across the small table, you squeeze his arm gently and find your smile broadening. “And I’m glad we’ll be doing it together.”

The desserts are shared, each one of you moaning over the taste and the rest of the bottle is split, leaving both of you stuff and slightly buzzed and feeling good. "This is what I needed tonight." Javi admits as he sets down his last glass, empty.

“I’m glad.” The idea that part of what has helping him feel better is bearing near you? It’s a comforting and grounding feeling that rolls through you to make you sigh. “Will you come to bed with me?” It’s an innocent question without sounding like it, and you feels your cheeks heat. “Just to find out what it is to sleep and wake up together?”

Javi smiles and nods. "Would it be alright if I sleep in my boxers?" He asks seriously. "I normally do not like to sleep in much."

“I don’t mind.” In fact, you welcome it. But saying so might seem like pressuring him and you won’t do that. “I don’t think Flores will be too scandalized.”

He nods and then he motions towards the tables. "You go get ready and I will clean this up to put on the cart." He tilts his head. "I dismissed the servants for the night, so it can stay until morning. It has been a trying day for everyone and I thought they could use some more personal time to deal with the loss of my father."

“You’re very sweet.” Standing stretching, you lend him a smile and point toward your shared door. “I’ll go change into my pajamas. Come in whenever you’re ready.”

"I will." He nods and watches you slip out through the door connecting your rooms and hums. He knows that he will be better off with you tonight. It will be better spending the night in your arms than chasing away demons and regrets by himself.

When it comes time to actually get ready for bed, Javi finds himself nervous. He's already changed into sleep attire that is appropriate, but he saves brushing his teeth. Carrying his toothbrush with him like a lost little boy as he knocks on your door to make sure that he does not walk in on you changing.

Instead of anything suggestive or overly decorative, you decided to change into a matching set of navy sleep shorts and short sleeved shirt. You had picked it out ages ago because you liked the little bronze-colored stars printed all over the set and it seemed like a very normal choice to make for tonight. Something ordinary that you might wear on any ordinary night. And not the very first thing you'll wear the very first night you share a bed with your future husband.

You go to the door to let him in, instead of just calling your permission, and you cannot help but smile when you see him standing on the other side with his toothbrush in hand. "Come in, querido." You step back to give him room and shut the hidden door behind him.

“I—” he looks down at his toothbrush and blushes slightly. “Have you brushed your teeth yet?” He asks, feeling slightly foolish. “I was hoping we could have a normal moment of domesticity together and I have watched so many movies where being in the bathroom together is comforting.”

CalamityConnie — 09/01/2023 11:12 PM

"I just finished washing my face, so brushing my teeth in next." Even as you nod toward your bathroom you feel like you could just squeeze him to bits in your arms. He is so unassumingly sweet sometimes.

“Thank you.” He murmurs quietly, following behind you and focusing on the pajamas you are wearing with a small smile. “For this, for being there.”

"Do you have a side of the bed you like to sleep on?" Not wanting to let him sink into worry or sadness, you keep the conversation light and reach for his hand to tuck it into yours.

“Not really.” He admits with a shrug and a small grin.

"Then I guess we'll have to see how comfortable we get. Because I don't have one, either." Your bathroom has been modernized beautifully - and probably many times over the lifetime of this palace - and right now that includes an immense clawfoot bathtub dominating the wall opposite your marble sink and an ornate mirror to complete the feeling of luxury. Your bottle of lotion is sitting on the counter next to your toothbrush and toothpaste - the last three pieces of your nighttime routine.

“Then it will be interesting to find out.” He chuckles quietly. “I think I’m used to having the bed to myself.”

"So am I." You offer him the toothpaste first, feeling surprisingly normal about the small moment of domesticity that he wanted so badly, it feels right. "My bed is almost always just me and a bunch of pillows."

"Do you sometimes line them up beside you so you do not feel alone?" He asks, squirting a pea sized amount on his toothbrush and then picking up your own to coat it for you. In the softer light of the bathroom, the make-up mirror is off, you look so beautiful. Nothing but clear skin and he likes the little silk thing you have on your hair. It must protect it while you sleep. "I do sometimes."

“I…had a body pillow.” You admit sheepishly, although the body pillow is less silly than the large llama stuffed animal you used to sleep with long ago. “I left it back in New York, so…there’s a chance I may end up cuddling you in my sleep instead.” Not that that would be a bad thing. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

"Would you?" Javi asks, looking at your beautiful reflection for a moment before having to look away bashfully. He's too old to ask for a cuddle but he desperately needs it, tonight of all nights. "I mean, I wouldn't mind it and sometimes these big, drafty rooms can get so cold." That’s a lie, the castle is just like the climate of the nation, temperate. It just sounds like a good reason to curl up together shamelessly.

“I’m a cuddly sleeper.” And if today hadn’t been full of so much tragedy and stress, you have no doubt that you would be pulling him into bed for more than cuddles. But as it is, you wouldn’t blame him if that was too much intimacy for tonight. The fact that it seems to be a comfort to him relaxes you a bit. “So I can all but guarantee it.”

“That is good.” If might be considered pathetic how comforting that is, but Javi manages a pleased smile as he brings the toothbrush up to his mouth. Happy that you have been such a comfort to him and have promised to continue to be.

You brush your teeth in silence and pick up your lotion bottle after rinsing, habitually dabbing the silky coconut oil scented cream on the drier parts of your skin. “That’s it…” you acknowledge awkwardly. “Unless you’re not ready to go to bed?” Not that you can think of anything else he would need to do, you’ve just found yourself suddenly nervous.

“I…am exhausted.” Javi confesses quietly. “But I can stay awake if you are not ready for sleep?” He understands your body might still be accustomed to New York time. For you, he would stay awake.

“It’s been an exhausting day.” Nodding back toward your bedroom, you take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go to bed.”

Walking towards the bed, hand in hand, is oddly innocent and cathartic at the same time. The attraction is there, if it hadn’t been for the events of the day, he would be very interested in peeling off your pajamas, but the tone of the night is perfect. Comfort and a much deeper connection emotionally.

The bed is plenty big enough for two, and you crawl under the plush duvet together into the mountain of pillows with a soft sigh of relief. It has been a long, trying, and exhausting day, but that just makes you glad to offer him a place to burrow into your side. After all — his day was much harder and safer than yours. It is the least you can do to offer him comfort.

The comfort of your arms is quickly accepted, curling against you and his head ends up on your shoulder. “The bed is comfortable.” He offers after a small sigh.

“It is.” You had thought so last night, but you have to admit that your heart is beating a little faster now than it had then. “The company doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Yeah?” He smiles against your shoulder and can’t help but snuggle into you a bit more. “Emotionally vulnerable men are a turn on for you?”

"Maybe." You can't help but laugh at that, and tighten your arms around him a little. "Or maybe it's just men who show any emotion at all."

“I cry during Pretty Woman.” Javi admits softly, as if that might prove his emotions. Hoping to hear you laugh again at his obvious attempt to curry favor.

"Because you're happy they end up together, or because that damn necklace is so pretty?" Smothering a little laugh, you nuzzle your nose into his hair and shrug unapologetically. "I never knew I was the kind of person to cry about jewelry, but it is very pretty."

“We have necklaces that are prettier.” He offers with a smile. “I’ll make sure to snap the box closed on your fingers.”

"I'll wear whatever you want me to, and make sure you catch me in the bath with headphones on at least once." Just to be able to hear him laugh a little, to release some of the tension from the day, is more than you could possibly ask for. The reality of losing his father will hit him slowly, it seems, and that is okay. It just means that you'll be here for the ups and the downs as they come.

“My mother loved baths.” Javi tells you quietly. “The king’s suite - my suite now - has the most magnificent tub.” His fingers start to play with the edge of your shirt as he talks. “They had a picture of me in the tub when I was younger, playing. But father said mother would soak every night after they retired for the evening. No matter how tired she was, she would spend at least twenty minutes in the tub. It was her unwinding.”

"Your mother sounds like an incredibly smart woman." His fingers toying with the fabric of your pajamas is welcome and far too alluring than you want to admit, but you would never presume to suggest that anything should or could happen tonight. You had promised him comfort and you won't betray that just because your body likes the way he touches it. "When I lived with my brother, he would go out on dates every weekend and sometimes I would spend the whole time he was at drinks in the tub. Just me and my candles and bubbles and wine with a good book."

“You should have the same type of tradition.” Javi decides. “There is so much stress and pressure with this role. A bath with wine and a book every evening before you sleep would do wonders.” Even though he has been so frazzled and heartbroken today, he feels safe, warm. If it wasn’t inappropriate, he would ask to kiss you again.

“And what will you do to unwind from your days?” Without realizing it, your fingers have found his curls and are toying with a few strands absently. “I know your days will be more stressful than mine, querido.”

“Perhaps, at times, you would allow me to join you?” He asks, “or I could watch a movie.”

“You may join me whenever you like.” It was what you wanted to suggest, but thought that it might be a little too forward for day two - and especially under the circumstances. But because he asked, you smile. “It sounds like a very sweet way to unwind from our days.”

“I wondered if father joined her.” He admits, wishing he had talked more to his parents when he had them. Learned to look beyond the stern facade.

“Would you like to think that he did?” It isn’t exactly hard to figure out that Javi is a romantic, and if it soothes him to think of his parents in love then you will encourage that fully.

"I think he probably did." Javi admits quietly, "when he wasn't working later or holding a meeting. My mother...she was my father's confidant." He might have told you this already, he couldn't remember, but it was helping the ache in his heart to remember the good things about the sometimes austere people who had tried their best to prepare him for a life of service to the peoples of the Balearic Isles. "He told me to choose one person to confide in. To give them my doubts and fears, to be vulnerable with."

“Do you…really want it to be me?” He had told his father that he did, and so far you know Javi to be an honest man. But to give comfort to a dying man is never a cruel lie even if it isn’t the whole truth. “It’s okay if you don’t, querido. If you have a best friend that already keeps all your secrets or something like that. I would not feel that you think less of me.”

“My entire life, all I have ever wanted was for someone to accept me as I am. To just…love me.” His voice catches slightly as he confesses this to you, the low light of the small bedside lamp not bright enough to chase away the shadows around the room, just illuminating one side of the bed where you both are curled together. “While you don’t love me, you do accept me. If we are lucky, love will come, as it did for my parents.”

“I do love you.” And you will say it as many times as you need to. As many times as he needs to believe it. “I didn’t know it could happen so quickly, but I meant what I said at dinner, querido. It began right away.”

His eyes close slightly. “I hope you stay in love.”

“We have known each other two days, Javi.” Carefully your hand tilts his chin up to make him look at you. “And I already can’t imagine being anywhere else, or with anyone else.”

He smiles softly, nodding as he listens to you. “You are amazing, you know this?” He asks.

“If you say so.” You certainly aren’t going to discourage him from thinking that if he wants to, and there’s a slight burn of warmth in your cheeks from the way he’s looking at you. “I’m just being honest.”

"I will have to tell you that you are good for me." He murmurs softly. "My parents were right."

"Sometimes they do know what is best for us." Although you would never admit it to your own father - there is no way you want to know what what 'I told you so' speech would be like. "And maybe we're both just enough like our mothers. They were best friends, after all."

“I wish that they had allowed us to know each other.” The age difference is the reason, but he would have liked to know what you were like as a younger woman.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know." A small grin cracks your lips and you press a kiss to his hair. "Or you can wait until my older brother gets here and ask him. I'm sure Seb will be more than happy to tell you all of my embarrassing stories."

“Did you have a favorite stuffed animal, when you were a child?” He asks, wanting to keep away from heavy topics, keeping the mood light.

"I did, but it's...a little weird," you admit with a small grin. "I had a stuffed llama that was made out of llama wool." When he quirks his head curiously you laugh and shrug in return. "My parents took us to a petting zoo when Seb and I were little. I think we were maybe five or six? But I could not get over the llamas. They were so big and soft and friendly and they were my favourite thing ever. So my mother bought me a stuffed animal from the gift shop before we left that day."

“Llamas.” He smiles as he imagines it. “That is cute. I used to have a panda bear.” His panda had been with him for year, it was probably still somewhere.

"I can see that." He's snuggly like you always imagined panda bears would be. "Bears are a classic choice, no matter what kind of bear it is. Perfect to cuddle."

“Yes.” He’s making a mental note of your favorite stuffed animal, thinking of it for the future. “I always felt safe holding my panda. His name was Pedro.”

"That's adorable." Now all you can think of is whether or not he still has that panda - or what he would think of having a similar stuffed bear on hand for one of your kids someday. Nope. Far too early for thoughts like that. "My llama was Lily. All the 'l' sounds would make me giggle."

“Lily the Llama.” He hums happily. “That is adorable.”

"Lily the Llama is pretty on par with Pedro the Panda," you point out, relishing the small smile on his face. Anything that makes him smile is exceptionally worthwhile.

“Perhaps.” He chuckles and shakes his head against your shoulder. “I was thinking that perhaps when we have kids we should have a stuffed llama for them.”

"I thought of having a panda for them." The fact that you both thought it independently makes you smile, and you hug him close in your arms. "I suppose we'll have to do both, then."

“I could see that.” Javi smiles. “Our children would have both stuffed animals. Their own petting zoo.”

“If we made them a little zoo, I’m certain they would choose favorites.” The image is sweet, making you wonder how much he’s even thought about his future children beyond the fact that he would have to have some. “I can imagine visiting dignitaries arriving with stuffed versions of their country’s most popular animals.”

"It is customary to give gifts to the prince and princess," he admits. "Especially when younger. The last time I was in London, I brought them some of our blown glass whistles. Very popular."

“I have one,” you admit quietly, rubbing your hand up and down his back in soothing strokes. “It was part of one of the birthday gifts your mother sent when I was little. It’s exceptionally beautiful.”

"That is good." He smiles softly at the idea of his mother sending you gifts. "They are precious to me. The craftsman work that goes into one is amazing. I have toured one of the factories. Did you know that they still handcraft every whistle?"

“Maybe we could include one in the favours for our wedding?” Knowing that a small set of items will be given to every single guest as a favour at your wedding reception, the idea to make them all local and lovingly crafted items sounds beautiful. “We could choose items made by artists rather than larger companies? As a way to celebrate the people.”

“That would be wonderful idea.” Javi thinks that it’s wonderful that you would include something so centric to the economy for his country. “We can find lots of local crafts to include.”

“I think that would be nice. Paying tribute to the people.” The urge to lean down and kiss him is nearly overwhelming, but you resist. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable or feel pressured.

“It will be a wedding for the people.” He muses softly. “We will have to have dignitaries there, but I would like to hire as many of our people as possible to staff the wedding.”

“It will be an expensive day, and all of that money should go right back into our economy.” You could not agree more, and the fact that he is so determined about it makes you smile. “Local foods, local suppliers, local goods. All of it.”

“Yes!” His eyes light up and he beams at the idea. “Show the world what the Balearic Islands can give through trade.” It’s not exactly romantic, but he is king now.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” The urge is there again, especially with how he beams at you, but you resist just long enough to get your heartbeat under control and kiss his forehead instead. It’s a small gesture of affection but it does the trick. For now.

He needs to be close to you, he is, but it’s not enough. Turning his head up, Javi shuffles up onto his elbow and looks down at you. “Can I kiss you?” He asks quietly.

“I—of course.” It doesn’t surprise you that he would ask, but it surprises you that he would want to tonight. You won’t question it, though, both from wanting to offer him comfort and desperately wanting to kiss him again. “You don’t have to ask.”

“I don’t— I just want to kiss you.” He promises, leaning in and wanting to find comfort in the way that his emotions are already starting to grow even more. Despite the loss of his father; he isn’t alone.

"We don't have to do anything you're not ready for." You can promise him that wholeheartedly, although you know for damn sure that you'll be falling asleep with an aching cunt tonight. It doesn't matter. This is about his comfort and his feeling secure more than it is necessarily about desire. "But I don't think I'll ever say no to a kiss."

“I just— I didn’t want you to think I was using my father’s death as an— an excuse.” He tells you. “Some men would do that.”

“There is nothing wrong with seeking comfort, or even in giving yourself permission to forget for a few minutes to cope.” Having watched plenty of family and friends lose people closest to them, you have seen how pleasure can numb pain. It isn’t the worst coping mechanism in the world, even if some people look down on it. “I don’t think you’re being sneaky, querido.”

“I just— I wanted you to know.” He doesn’t know why it’s important for him to tell you that, but it is. Making him relax even more as he reaches up and caresses your cheek. “I never want to lose your trust.”

"Then let's keep being honest with each other." Your fingers brush his curls out of his eyes and you soften instantly. He really has the most beautiful eyes...

The kiss is gentle, slow. Nothing to indicate passion, it’s just a melding of your mouths. His hands stay put, not drifting as his mind blanks of everything but kissing you.

Deciding that the most respectful thing you can do is follow his lead, you have to repeatedly remind your hands to stay where they are, and keep the level of passion you're showing in check because what you're feeling is just so much more. There will be more time. This is only your second night together. You have the rest of your lives..

He relaxes into the kiss and sighs softly. Eyes closed and slowly taking the kiss for every small moment and absorbing it. It's natural. Languid and exploratory without pushing at any boundaries. His hand doesn't move from your waist and yours stays on his arm, like as long as you keep to those rules then you can keep yourselves in line. He doesn’t know how long he kisses you. Minutes, hours. It could be days that have passed while he breathes you in and gives you his own breath. Slowly and softly kissing you like nothing else exists.

Everything else has faded. The stress of the day is muted well into the background and the only thought making its way to the front of your mind is how sweet he tastes. How gentle he is. How desperately right it feels to be pulled tight against him in bed together. By the time the two of you separate you feel dizzy, and fuzzy around the edges in the very best way.

“Thank you.” The gratitude is whispered, a smile accompanying it as the first sense of peace really settles into his tired body. “For being here. For standing beside me.” He shuffles to settle down against you again. “With you here, I feel as if we are going to be an unstoppable team.”

******

The king is still wrapped in your arms the next morning, sleeping with his head on your shoulder and his own arm snuggly around your waist when Flores comes into the room to open your curtains and wake you to dress for breakfast. The sight of the king in your bed with you is not one she had expected for some time, but you both look so contented that she cannot help smiling. Quickly and quietly, Flores hustles over to the next room to let the king’s valet know where he spent the night, and to make a gentle suggestion — that perhaps after the trials of yesterday and the comforts of last night, you should be allowed breakfast on trays in bed together.

The door opening softly again this time stirs Javi. He had been dreaming of his father, sitting in the study while looking hale and whole, praising his son for the decisions he was making. Feeling so real that his heart is overjoyed, he opens his eyes to find Flores coming into the room again, a soft smile on her face.

“Good morning, your Majesty.” She curtsies deeply as she directs a small silver service cart into the room and parks it beside your nightstand. “We took the liberty of bringing your meal to you instead of laying it in the breakfast room,” she murmurs, noting the details of the room as she goes. You are still wearing your pajamas and the room has no scent beyond flowers, so she tucks that thought away entirely. “I will return in half an hour to dress the princess and your valet will have your schedule for you in your rooms.”

“Thank you, Flores.” You are still sleeping and he bites his lip before looking at her again. “Make it forty five minutes.” He decides, wanting to wake you up slowly.

“Yes, your Majesty.” With another nod and deep curtsy, Flores backs out of the room to slip off and attend to other business. There is plenty of it, after all.

Once alone again, he turns back towards you, struck again by how sweet you look. Sleep giving you an innocence that could not be described beyond beautiful and yet it takes his breath away. The back of his fingers brush your cheek gently and he caresses your neck. “Princess?” He coos softly, smiling when your mouth twitches slightly in sleep.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” you mumble sleepily, the title being still so foreign to you. Sleep has glued your eyes shut but you force them to open just for the view of Javi you know you will get. And when you do, you sigh audibly. “Morning, handsome.”

“Wait until the title is ‘Queen’.” He hums as he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “I have a question to ask you.”

“Anything.” Even still half asleep, you know you’ll grant him anything, and he’s so warm and soft beside you that it still feels like you’re dreaming.

“I have dreamed of a Princess my entire life.” He admits softly. “Imagined the perfect woman to stand by my side and even then, I could never have imagined how perfect you would be.” Your eyes are soft, slightly watery as he speaks. “It is not the romantic dinner I had imagined, but I do not want to wait.” Your full name comes out softly. “Will you marry me and become the next queen of the Balearican Isles?”

“Querido…” Tears are unexpected this morning, but it’s such a sweet and gentle moment that you can’t help the few that escape the corners of your eyes as you nod eagerly and surge forward to kiss him. “I will.” The words swell in your chest and practically have you giggling against his lips. “Yes—I—I love you, Javi.”

“I love you.” He promises, unsure of how this happened so quickly, but it seems right, as if it was meant to be. “We will have a long and happy life together.”

______

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My Masterlist!

[pandenewie]

20 - Mama I’m in love with a criminal

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It’s funny how quickly rumours and gossip spread in a place like Be Lift High. And with high school relationships typically lasting 3 to 5 business days, it’s no surprise each week when there’s a hot new couple that’s got everyone's attention. Y/n’s not sure why they thought dating Jungwon would be any different.

“Omg, did you see they’re wearing his jacket?”

“They’ve worn it every day this week!”

“I would’ve never put them together, to be honest.”

“What do you mean? It’s like opposites attract.”

Y/n’s no stranger to stares and whispers in the halls, especially when the topic is what they’re wearing. Although this time is less about what they’re wearing and more about who it belongs to.

“Damn, I know Jungwon’s popular and all but I didn’t think people were this interested in his love life.” Hikaru scoffs, tightening her grip on Y/n’s arm as the two walk down the hallway. She would be lying if she said the stares weren’t mildly uncomfortable. “I don’t even know how people found out.” Y/n mumbles. “I blame Riki.” Hikaru scoffs, any excuse to start an argument.

“What did I do?” A voice asks, causing the two friends to turn towards the sound. Expecting to see Niki’s annoying face, they’re surprised to see an unfamiliar blonde instead.

“They weren’t talking about you, idiot.” The girl next to him, who Y/n immediately recognises to be Wonyoung, rolls her eyes. “Sorry, I just heard the name Ricky and assumed it was me.” He laughs. “That’s not even your real name.” Wonyoung mumbles before turning to smile at Y/n.

“Anyway, rumours going around say you and Jungwon are official?” She asks hopefully. Y/n feels their cheeks heat up slightly at all the attention. “I mean… yeah?” They reply sheepishly, causing Wonyoung to squeal in excitement. “That’s so cute! It took him long enough.” She exclaims, shaking the blonde (who is apparently Ricky) a few times for added effect.

“I didn’t know you guys were friends with Jungwon.” Hikaru says, curiously. “Of course we are… we’re on the council together.” Ricky clarifies, with an enthusiastic nod from Wonyoung to back him up. “That makes sense! I honestly couldn’t tell you who’s on the council this year.” Hikaru says, not caring if she upsets their feelings.

“I get that. I’ve been pretty slack as vice president since I was away for most of this semester. And Ricky hasn’t done the best as a fill-in.” She snides, elbowing the boy in the side. “Hey! I told you to pick Youngeun instead of me!” “She’s already the treasurer! You can’t expect her to do everything.” “But Jungwon can?” “You know Jungwon’s different.”

As the two start to bicker back and forth, it suddenly becomes very apparent why Jungwon is the only council member getting things done. President or not, he’s certainly the one who takes his role more seriously.

A sudden weight on Y/n’s shoulder causes them to turn their attention away from the Wonyoung vs Ricky argument and towards the sudden presence on their other side. Y/n’s eyes meet with Jungwon’s as he sends them a dimpled smile, using the arm around their shoulder to gently pull them into a side hug.

“What’s going on here?” He asks, ending the argument with just a few simple words. Everyone turns their attention towards Jungwon, now aware of his presence. “Oh, hi Jungwon.” Wonyoung waves, pulling her arms away from their position around Ricky’s neck (she wasn’t going to actually choke him, she swears.) “Sup Prez.” Ricky coughs slightly, raising his eyebrows towards Jungwon.

“We were just asking Y/n about your relationship since you’re keeping all the juicy details to yourself.” Wonyoung teases, causing Jungwon to laugh slightly. “Well not to burst your bubble, but I doubt you’ll get anything out of Y/n.” He says, squeezing their shoulders slightly as if to emphasise the point.

“Now Hikaru, do you mind if I steal Y/n for a bit? I promise you’ll get them back by lunch.” Jungwon asks, causing Hikaru to scoff. “Oh please take them for as long as you need. No returns.” She says, removing her arm from Y/n’s and pushing them towards Jungwon. “My heart.” Y/n fake cries. “Go hang out with your boyfriend, I’m gonna find Hiyyih and Eunchae.” Hikaru winks, waving goodbye. Wonyoung and Ricky decide to leave as well, mumbling something about continuing their argument away from the president.

“Are those two always so…” “Yeah.” Jungwon sighs, already knowing what Y/n was going to say. “They’re kinda like Hikaru and Niki. Pretend to hate each other and yet for some reason, they’re always hanging out.” He continues, causing Y/n to laugh slightly. “We’ve still got a bit of time before class starts. Let’s go somewhere where people are less nosy.” Jungwon says, causing Y/n to just nod and follow along. They’re not used to Jungwon being so confident and assertive, especially around them, where he’s usually awkward and shy. This new side of him is certainly one they could get used to.

The pair soon find themselves in the library, their go-to spot now that the toilets are being renovated. Once safely inside and out of view of teachers, Jungwon leans against one of the bookshelves, careful not to knock anything over. Y/n quickly slips off Jungwon’s jacket, revealing their outfit for the day.

“You’re kidding.” Jungwon laughs, attempting to hide his pinkening cheeks behind his hands. Y/n giggles slightly at his reaction, moving to stand between his legs before carefully removing his hands from his face. “What’s wrong? You don’t like my outfit?” They ask, trying to stop the smile from spreading across their face at Jungwon’s nervous expression. “I don’t think it counts as a shirt if you can see through it.” He mumbles, releasing one hand from Y/n’s grip to gently pull on the sheer top. “I have a singlet on.” Y/n defends. Jungwon rolls his eyes at this, knowing Y/n’s just arguing for the sake of it.

“It’s cute.” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around Y/n’s waist and pulling them further into his chest. “You’re cute.” Y/n retaliates, a sense of pride washing through their body at the sight of Jungwon’s cheeks visibly burning up. Y/n bites their lip to stop their smile from growing further as Jungwon buries his head in the crook of their neck. “What happened to the confident Jungwon with Wonyoung and Ricky, huh?” Y/n asks, gently running their fingers through his hair. “You make me nervous.” Jungwon mumbles. “That’s a shame.” Y/n sighs. “President Jungwon’s pretty hot.”

Y/n’s words cause Jungwon to let out a groan as he attempts to hide even further into their neck. “You’re gonna kill me.” He mumbles against the skin, making sure to sneak a quick kiss that he hopes isn’t noticeable. It is. But Y/n doesn’t bother to point it out, since Jungwon is practically melting at this point.

Y/n’s eyes flicker to the clock that hangs on the far wall of the library, signalling that class will start in a few minutes. “I don’t wanna go to class.” They sigh, tightening their arms around Jungwon’s neck. “Skipping is bad.” Jungwon murmurs, despite making no move to get to class either. “You know we could just stay here…” Y/n trails off, pressing a kiss against the crown of Jungwon’s head. The sudden affection causes him to pop out of his hiding place, eyeing Y/n suspiciously.

“Tempting…” He says, his eyes falling to Y/n’s lips. “But we can’t.” He continues, standing up straight and pulling almost completely away from Y/n - expect his hands, which stay resting gently against their waist. The distance doesn’t last long, however, as Y/n quickly pulls Jungwon back into their personal bubble. “You’re no fun.” Y/n pouts, reaching up to run their fingers through his hair.

“Not sure what your idea of fun is.” Jungwon sighs, closing his eyes slightly at the relaxing touch of Y/n’s fingers. A surprise tug at his strands causes Jungwon to yelp, opening his eyes to look down at Y/n. They’re a lot closer than they were a second ago and Jungwon lets out another sigh at the realisation that his first escape attempt came up unsuccessful. “This is fun, isn’t it?” Y/n asks, leaning forward to press a quick peck against Jungwon’s lips. So quick, that he barely even registered the contact until it was too late.

The bell rings for the start of class, but neither Y/n nor Jungwon move an inch. "You're gonna be late~" Y/n teases in a sing-song voice, giving Jungwon another quick peck. "So are you~" Jungwon mimics, repeating the same action.

It's a standoff at this point, who can get the other to give in first? Y/n knows the likelihood of them winning this is high - considering the fact that Jungwon will do just about anything they tell him to.

They're about to lean forward to press another kiss against his lips when a sudden gasp causes them to freeze.

"Y/n, what are you doing? You're supposed to be in class!"

Both students turn to see the school librarian looking at them disappointed. Y/n chooses to ignore the blatant favouritism and reluctantly pulls away from Jungwon. "Sorry ma'am, I was about to go." They reply, slipping Jungwon's jacket back over their shoulders. "Well hurry along, you're probably holding poor Jungwon up. He has so much work to do, that boy."

Y/n rolls their eyes at the double standards before turning their attention back to Jungwon. "I'll text you later." They say, subtly squeezing his hand before allowing the librarian to walk them out.

Jungwon sighs before the realisation hits that he should be in class, too. His eyes widen as he quickly slings his bag over his shoulder, pulling out his phone to double-check that he’s not too red before rushing out of the library.

TAG LIST (closed): @kang-yeosangs-initials @kpopstanmeg @b1ndignity @soobiverse @dudufodd @mikadorbs @pagesofmiracles @tya0 @ilovewonyo @bringer-ofchaos @huening-ly @ifearjwn @callmeblondie @run2min @straykids-riley (can't tag) @rikimylove @chaechae-23 @lacimolela @n1ght-maring (can't tag) @luvvsjungwonn @yenqa @tzuyusluv @viyqe @vocaloshin @deadgirlwalking3 @flamiricky @hanniesss @grayscorner @wonqr @neozon3nha @beomgyusonlywife @ahnneyong @lani-heart @jayujus @str4wb3rizz @yunwonie @jeonncafe @danielleismyname @spilled-coffee-cup @jaylans-stuff @oceanmsxoxo @j-wyoung

[daydreamtravellog]

WIZLORDS! - Third Country Press

Welcome back! It's been awhile, huh?

WIZLORDS! is a... peculiar GM-less game made by Third Country Press, which can be found here.

This game is not solo, nor does it have much in the way of character creation, so let's just jump right into it.

In this game, three or more players take on the role of wizards. Wizards powerful enough to casually warp reality on a whim. These wizards are members of the grand council, ruling over the realm.

Unfortunately, all of you are, without exception, insane. Now would be a good time to discuss character creation.

To play this game you will need:

3+ Players

1d20 - overall, not per player.

(Optionally) Character Sheet

(Optionally) Something to keep score with

There aren't an official character sheet and scorekeeping system, but this game is very complicated mechanically.

To make your character:

Come up with an ostentatious name. You are an eccentric wizard noble, after all.

As previously mentioned, you are insane. This manifests as you obsessions. You have a relatively harmless, somewhat risky, and incredibly dangerous obsessions. These are worth 1, 2, and 3 points, respectively. Keep these to yourself.

Congratulations, you are now a wizards!

From here, you and your eccentric fellow council members will get down to business. Over the course of seven days, you will deal with problems plaguing your realm, determined by rolling the d20.

Each Wizlord will then come up with their proposal for solving the problem, engage in debate (limited to 5 minutes for the sake of fairness and time), and put it to a vote. The winner is the one with the majority vote, and they get 3 points. Rinse and repeat 6 more times, and whoever is has the most points is named the HIGH WIZLORD, and is to be showered with praise by the other players.

This gets especially interesting when each player's secret obsessions are thrown into the mix. Even if you aren't the one who made the original proposal, you can make an amendment, supporting the proposal while attempting to incorporate your obsession. If you manage to slip in your obsession, you get points based on the grade of obsession, as I mentioned above.

It's a pretty simple game, the whole document is only two pages long, and the second page is entirely devoted to the list of issues that you roll the d20 for. My impression of this game is that it sounds like a lot of fun if you like roleplay and improv, especially with how silly and weird the game is meant to be. This is definitely a game that you could play on a whim, requiring basically no setup and very little time spent on character creation. I'd definitely love to give it a try sometime!

This game doesn't really fit the format of this blog very well, but I still really wanted to talk about it! I feel like this one doesn't have a lot of substance though, despite the length of time since my last post, so I will be working on the next post shortly.

Until next time, I bid you adieu, and we will meet again when there is a new tale to be told...

[my-watch-begins]

A match for love. Part VII

Pairings: Harwin Strong x Female!OC.

Warnings: it's a wedding... in Westeros. So... fluff, descriptions of violence, death of minor characters, mentions of smut, absolute shameless use of Taylor Swift lyrics, see if you can find it.

Words: 6 k.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10.

Harwin walked the corridors of Harrenhal with a mix of nostalgia and some trepidation. Harrenhal had been under the custody of House Strong for years, two generations had held the castle, the Strongs had hosted the Great Council of 101 a.C. and over the years some reforms had been made when Harwin and his brother and sisters were little.

The castle hadn't been this busy ever since, well, since Harwin could remember. The only parties it had hosted were so long ago no members of the current staff remembers them. Now, it vibrated with the excitement and last minute preparations for his wedding.

Lord and Ladies from the vicinity had already started to populate the Castle, it had all been arranged to receive such quantity of guests. By far the presence of Lady Jeyne Arryn, the maiden of the Vale, was the highest form of royalty in attendance. She attended only as company to Lady Jessamine Redfort, Ayla's younger sister. The castle had hosted her and her party for a week before the wedding, on which she caught up with the remaining members of the Redfort family. Harwin had only arrived with his family two days ago, in which time he hadn't been allowed to see or talk to Ayla at all under the pretense of 'saving it for the ceremony'.

Now, he was headed to meet the last member to arrive, Ayla's older brother and heir to the Redfort, Rylon and his wife Cyrilla Lannister. Harwin had absolutely no doubt that the antiques of house Lannister were to blame for his lateness, arriving to the wedding ceremony the day it was being held, but it didn't matter, they were there now.

He reached the King's Tower, the biggest of the five that made the castle. It was still being used despite the top of it being melted stone by dragon fire. Upon seeing the five siblings one next to each other, he could see a little bit of Ayla on all of them, all except for Jessamine who was an almost identical twin, if not for her different colored eyes and nose, which wasn't as pointy as Ayla's delicate one.

When he got to talking with the brothers, he also couldn't help but notice that they had been slowly engulfed by the houses they'd married into. Rylon, married into house Lannister, sported the red that most of house Redfort wore, but a few golden details had been sown into the edges of his vest, his cufflinks and the belt around his waist. Harrin, who had married into house Karstark in the north, wore a muted red vest with a long black cape, adorned with wolf's fur at the shoulders and neck, perfect for the northern winter, not so much for the Riverlands. Still, he didn't seem to mind them. He wondered then if he would also be engulfed in Ayla's house and style, or if living in the Keep would engulf her.

He tried to keep the matter of conversation with the siblings, but he also couldn't help but notice the stares the wives where giving him finding himself on the receiving end of lingering eyes on his frame, the wives often looked at him up and down and then shared knowing and almost explicit looks between them.

A bell rang across the castle, Harwin looked to the side to the noise and his stomach quickly tightened into knots. It was almost time for the ceremony. All guests had an hour to finish getting ready and head to the Sept. The surrounding grounds of it had been decorated and a carpet had been rolled from the Sept to the salon where the feast would take place.

The group agreed to meet at the Sept. Harwin headed hastily up to his room to finish with his doublet. He wore all black, the only details standing out from his figure were the shiny buttons, the chain links that cuffed his doublet together below his chin, and the belt that sported the colors of House Strong. He looked at himself in the cloudy mirror, seeing that his buttons had not been linked incorrectly, then looked to his side at the cloak that rested in a chair.

The door knocked behind him, he gave way quickly and held the cloak, running his hand over it to smooth it out. In came Lord Edder, giving Harwin a smile as he walked to him, his hands pressed at his shoulders and patted the front to clean it from non-existent fuzz.

"Are you ready?" He asked, Harwin nodded and held the cloak to his chest.

"More than ready" he replied with a smile.

"You know, handing over my daughter to someone else's protection may be the hardest thing I've ever had to do" he confessed, then reached to the hooks of Harwin's lapel and uncuffed them, he searched into his pocket and placed a new chain link in his hand, Harwin's eyes fell on it instantly "I wanted you to know that you are under my protection as much as Ayla is under yours" he motioned at the hooks, Harwin noticed both House Strong and House Redfort were portrayed in the hooks, the sigils engraved in each hook connected by the chain.

Harwin smiled warmly as Edder cuffed the link in his lapel, not knowing how to express gratitude for being so warmly accepted into the family.

"Thank you my Lord" he said with a nod as he finished "all of your expectations of me I hope to honor and surpass"

"You have my boy, I'm sure you will continue doing so"

Ayla laughed as she hugged onto her brother, he'd taken her by the legs and walked with her on his shoulder over the garden.

"I can walk perfectly fine you know" she complained as she held on.

"There's mud all over the place, I won't hand you over looking all dirty, you're going to be sent back" Adrian said, grunting with effort as he walked.

"You know, Harwin has never grunted like that as he carries me around"

"I would hope not, he is the strongest knight in the seven kingdoms after all"

Adrian paid no mind to Ayla as he plopped her down on the carpeted front door of the Sept, she was surrounded by her brothers, who had wanted to look at her in her bridal state before anyone.

"Is Harwin already in?" She asked, smoothing her gown to the make it fall evenly on the floor.

"No, he is not" Rylon was the first to speak and glance at his brothers.

"This is the part where we break the most awful news to you" Adrian followed.

"We've killed Harwin-"

"In the most horrible way-"

"Because we couldn't bear to not have that gem of a human being Gwayne as our good brother-"

Ayla dropped her shoulders as she looked to her brothers, rolling her eyes at them as soon as she understood they were joking.

"He's the one waiting for you inside, right father?" Adrian perked in as his father walked around the boys and extended the red cloak with the red sigil of House Redfort standing out in white.

"Stop whatever it is you're doing, leave your sister be"

"We're trying to ease her nerves" Kase excused.

The brothers looked as Lord Edder walked around and stood behind Ayla. She moved her hair out of the way and her father hooked the heavy cloak to her shoulders, then extended it and let it fall evenly to her sides. He walked around her and looked up and down at her.

She felt stared at by all her brothers, looking at them she only found tenderness, happiness, a little bit of sadness on her father's eyes, but they were mostly happy to see her be married.

Lord Edder ushered the boys inside, then stood next to Ayla and muttered a little 'seven hells', giving her his arm to hold.

"Why are you cursing? It can't be that bad to marry off your daughter"

Ayla hooked her arm to her father's and looked up at him.

"I'm just glad this is the only time I will have to do this"

"You still have Jessamine" she joked.

"Ah, I'm not to hand off Jessamine ever, we all know that"

Ayla smiled and pressed her temple to her father's shoulder, hugging his arm tightly.

"I'm very happy right now, thank you for letting this happen"

"It was all you, Ayla" he sighed, his breath quivering as he exhaled.

"Don't cry" she whispered, feeling her own tears prick at her eyes. She took a deep breath and stood straight, tall and proud as the doors of the Sept open.

She walked in between the masses of people, her father's arm linking with hers. She recognized some if not all the faces of Lords and Ladies of the Riverlands, the Vale and some had come all the way from King's Landing. It wasn't everyday that the son of the Hand of the King was to be married. Ayla was sure if it weren't such a deal, the King himself would've attended the wedding, after all Lord Lyonel was a dear friend of the King's.

Ayla's eyes moved from one side of the aisle to the other, where most of her family stood and looked at her with smiles, even though Jessamine, Grayce and Jaena had helped her with the gown and the hair, they couldn't help but look at her amazed at how pretty she looked.

When Ayla searched in the smiling faces of Harwin's family, she was already nearing Harwin and the Septon. She thought she'd done a good job to look at Harwin when she was just in front of him, when her eyes find his, looking at her with a twist of eyebrows and a glint on his eyes that only screamed one thing.

She led her hand to take his, the first touch they'd had after two months of not seeing each other, the amount of time between her departure from her visit to King's Landing and Lord Lyonel's next leave from court to attend the wedding.

Harwin looked up and down at her as her hand touched his. His breath hitched in his throat and he could feel his insides clutch. Breathtaking was still the word that came into his mind everytime he looked at her, today specially.

He exchanged a quick look with Lord Edder, who seemed to be fighting with himself as he took the cloak of House Redfort from Ayla's shoulders, leaving her beautiful gown exposed. It was all white, sleeveless, the corset had been sown with beautiful and intricate twirls in shades of red, Harwin noticed, as she climbed up the step to stand next to him, that her collar and the rims of her sleeves sported the red, blue and green of house Strong in a delicate but noticeable thread.

His hand gripped hers as they both faced the Septon, but didn't look at him for the first few minutes of him starting the ceremony, their eyes were on each other's figures as they took in the other one's state, formally dressed, Ayla looking absolutely ravishing in his eyes, Harwin looking irresistible in hers. When their eyes found each other they couldn't help but smile, fighting the urge to pull themselves together and to kiss, to touch, to hold each other in their arms.

Ayla tuned into the sermon of the Septon, after he recited the name of the Seven under whose blessing they were about to be united, he motioned at Harwin.

"You may now cloak the bride to bring her under your protection"

Harwin left Ayla's hand as he grabbed the cloak he was absentmindedly holding on his forearm, then straightened and faced the sigil of House Strong to the public, Ayla turned slightly to the side and held her long hair out of the way, feeling the heavy material being draped over her shoulders. She secured it over her, both ends almost meeting at her front.

Standing side by side, Harwin's hand found Ayla's again over the cloak as the Septon continued the ceremony.

"We are here under the sights of Gods and Men witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever"

The Septon took a piece of ribbon that had been hanging loosely from his forearm the entire time. Harwin lifted his and Ayla's joined hands, and heard Ayla take a shaky breath as the Septon tied their hands together, then pressed his own hand over and under theirs.

"Look upon one another and say the words"

They recited the names of the Seven, eyes on each other, and when it was Harwin's turn to say his vows, he spoke them with security, wanting Ayla to know he meant every word.

"I am hers and she is mine, from this day to the rest of my days"

When it was Ayla's turn, Harwin felt as if everyone had suddenly left the room, it was just him and her, their hands joined, their words only for each other.

"I am his and he is mine-" she lingered on the last word "from this day to the rest of my days"

The Septon held their joined hands and slowly unwrapped the ribbon as he spoke.

"Let it be known that Ser Harwin of House Strong, and Lady Ayla of House Redfort are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be them who would seek to tear them asunder."

They faced each other, Ayla smiled and nodded agreeing with the Septon as she looked at Harwin.

His forehead came down to hers, Ayla chuckled as she lifted her head up, the bridge of his nose fitting perfectly over the shape of her forehead. The seconds they stood there felt like an eternity before Harwin spoke up.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love"

He looked for her lips with his eyes closed, moving down on her face, his nose tracing hers until Ayla pulled herself up to meet him halfway. Harwin sighed over her lips, his hands leaving hers and cupping her cheeks as he held her without moving, the guests clapped and cheered around them.

Ayla smiled over his lips, then chuckled our of pure happiness.

They spent the feast, as the guests were eating, with their hands linked and foreheads together, talking in hushed tones being interrupted by sudden chuckles and short kisses.

"You're a vision, Ayla" he said, his eyes scanning over her body, the dress sat over her so delicately above her body, her figure accentuated at all the right places, he almost had the need to lick his lips at the mere sight of her.

"Did you like the collar? It was a last minute addition"

"It was my favorite part" he ran his finger over the line of colors sown in, then his finger dipped inside and traced along her collarbone.

"You look better than what I imagined you would" she placed her hand over his chest, moving up to his shoulder "imponent, and soft at the same time" she then cupped his cheek and rubbed her thumb under his eye "still can't believe you're all mine, that I finally get to call you husband for all to hear"

Harwin took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles, then pulled her closer by grabbing her from the neck, Ayla's hand rested over his knee as she closed her eyes, foreheads touching again, a feeling so intimate it was weird how it could be felt in a room full of people eating and laughing.

"I wonder, since this has been your home for a while now, why haven't you snuck up around the castle to see me when you arrived?"

"I tried, last night, your brother was stationed outside your door" Ayla laughed in disbelief shaking her head, then leaned in to kiss him shortly. "Had you been one floor down I could've climbed up, and promptly been kicked out by your brother as soon as he found out I was there"

"Why would he have found out?" She teased.

"Probably because the way I would've made your scream" he trapped her lips with his, his teeth bitting at her lower lip, his hand dropped from her cheek to her leg, squeezing at her inner thigh making her close her legs together at the feeling that was beginning to rise on her.

She was about to tell him they could loose the stupid feast for ten minutes, she would actually beg him to rail her in some forgotten room and return to the festivities, but she had her thoughts interrupted as the music began to resonate on the hall, giving way to the bridal dance to open the dance floor to the guests and begin the party.

They performed the dance, mostly out of tradition and their interest in keeping them more than wanting to dance. The only thing Ayla saw in both their eyes was the mutual need to be a mess of entangled limbs moaning on a bed until their throats turned sore.

They were well into the party and the wine, talking with his now Good Brothers, when Harwin felt his skin crawl, just at the base of his neck. He looked around and turned to the table to leave the wine, suddenly feeling ill. He searched around the room, looking for Ayla's figure.

He found her on the other side of the room near the main table, standing with her sister and two other ladies as they talked.

She could feel his eyes on her, and when she also looked for him in the crowd she didn't find the playful stare she was hoping to see, instead she found him frowning, his body rigid. Their eyes met and Ayla gave him a little shake of her head to ask him what was wrong, he looked around and excused himself.

As soon as he took a step to the side, away from Ayla's brothers, he saw what his intuition told him was wrong. No guards in the exits and cloaked figures walking around the guests. He grabbed one of Ayla's brothers, the one closest to him, and whispered to keep an eye on those.

He walked briskly around the table, decided to get to Ayla's side as soon as possible. There were guests mingling and drinking around it, it took him a while to apologize as he walked around them, pushing himself in between some.

Just when he was trying to convince himself it was nothing, that he probably was in a paranoid state induced by the excess of wine, he heard the first scream and the unmistakable sound of steel being drawn.

He now pushed his way between the people when the steel rung against another blade and the people erupted in chaos and screams. He didn't get far before he saw a glint of silver, he dodged to the side, the long dagger swung in front of him again as he took a step back dodging the attack as well. The attacker swung at him again and now Harwin turned to his side as he grabbed the hand that held the blade, squeezing it and making the attacked drop it as he felt his bones being crushed between Harwin's hand at the handle of the dagger. Harwin pushed quickly his elbow into the man's face, when he felt free he leapt over the table and crossed it, coming to the other side as he pushed people out of his way.

He heard it, Ayla's voice, but he couldn't see her. He didn't know what was happening with the people fighting, he didn't know where his sisters or her family where, the mass of people moved around with people trying the get out of the dance floor, when he saw an exit, he pushed through and saw a flash of white to his side.

Ayla was looking around, worried that she'd seen her brothers enter the mass of people with clear intentions on their faces.

She looked behind her startled when she heard a commotion, only to find Harwin's fist landing heavily on someone, then he took the sword he was holding and kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying back.

He turned around and grabbed Ayla by the waist, pulling her up and dragging her away from the crowd as it moved, threatening to become a domino of people falling on top of each other.

He heard someone scream commands, Ayla grabbed herself to his arm once Harwin left her near the table. He twisted the handle making the sword twirl on his hand, scanning for anyone who might come near them.

He heard Ayla behind him, asking what was going on and if he could see any of his family members, he couldn't.

From inside the crowd, as it was slowly thinning down and allowing Harwin to see,  Ayla's brothers were commanding for the dance floor to be cleared, their swords in hand covered in blood.

Ayla slipped from a grasp at her wrist that Harwin didn't know he had her in, and almost ran to the side, Harwin glanced to see that she had gone to tend to his sisters, who seemed fine but startled.

Harwin's eyes finally stared at the massacre before him, at least five cloaked men were laying on the floor, not counting the one that Harwin had kicked. He looked to the side expecting to see him there. He wasn't.

"And you told us to not carry our swords tonight, uh Ayla?" Rylon chuckled, clearly amused at the fight and not at all concerned. Lord Edder walked to them, also sword in hand, but was stopped halfway when the doors of the side flew open.

The sounds of metal clanking filled the room, guards walked inside in formation, when the two at the front broke formation and stood to the side, one Lord Harald Mooton stepped in.

The four brothers stood one next to each other, their swords up at him, each one of them looked at one guard and decided on their target if things went badly.

"Lord Lyonel" he addressed, avoiding Lord Edder's daggers for eyes. "We had an agreement, I'm terribly sorry that the life of young Ayla had to be cut so short. She will be not so sorely missed."

Lord Lyonel walked in front of Harwin, he had to decide if he was going to follow his father or keep an arm stretch away from Ayla, whose presence had gone past Lord Harald since the white of her gown was covered by the body of his two sisters.

"If an agreement was struck with you, it was without my knowledge or consent, the wedding held here was legitime and broke no previous arrangements"

Lord Harald's breath hitched in his throat when he saw Ayla appearing form the side and holding herself to Harwin's spare arm, the other one busy with the sword still up in the air.

"You, however, have disgraced yourself with this tran-"

Lord Lyonel's speech was cut short when Edder leaped in front of Harald, a glint of steel was all that was seen heading towards the Lord before the sickening sound of flesh being sliced, then, a dry thud on the floor.

Harwin tensed when the men looked at the lifeless body of their Lord, head separated from the neck in a clean cut. Their hands moved to the handle to take their own swords.

"Let's not" he now pointed his sword to the men "you are to return to Maidenpool and tell the new Lord Mooton of his father's transgressions, that he is not to take any sort of retaliation over this matter and if he so wishes he can met me on the battlefield"

He proceeded to put down his sword, his sons following only when the guards began to walk backwards to the door after exchanging frightened glances.

Edder turned, putting away his sword and giving his sons a glance as he walked between them.

"The threat of war was uncalled for" Lord Lyonel said as he walked past him. Lord Edder looked between him and the couple, Ayla being comforted by Harwin as she cleaned her under eye.

"The children were threatened, it was absolutely called for" he kept walking to the couple, Ayla's arms folded on her chest as Harwin rubbed her cheeks to free them from tears. "Are you two alright?" He pressed his hand to Ayla's shoulder.

"Yes, Harwin came to me just in time" she praised "I'm just angry" she said, her voice tight as she bounced in place, looking to the side "I'll be fine"

"You have all the right to be angry" her father soothed her, Ayla shook her head dismissing him.

"We should retire" now Harwin pressed his hand to Ayla's side, a little spot on her ribcage below her armpit he knew she liked being held from.

Lord Edder nodded, when he turned around to leave them, Lord Lyonel called him in for a word. Harwin visibly winced as he led Ayla to the side.

"What?" She asked, glancing shortly behind her as she walked.

"Nothing good ever comes out of "a word" from my father. I've staid back training for longer than I wanted to just to avoid his "word" with me"

"I doubt your father can be so stern, he's always so nice"

"You'll have time to know him in his sternness"

"Hopefully not" she said with a little chuckle.

As they neared the top of the stairs, the floor they were staying in, Harwin leaned and swopped Ayla of her feet, making her squeal and hug his shoulders as he carried her.

"I will not let the events of the night sour the night I've been thinking of for months"

Ayla smiled and kissed him, securing herself on his shoulders as he opened the door of the bedroom.

They took their time undoing the pins that held her long hair, Ayla had decided they could benefit on some wine as they worked laying chest to back as they lounged on a chair.

Once Harwin was done, he ran his fingers on her scalp relaxing her hair from the tightness of her updo, she sighed in content, leaning fully back on his chest, engulfed by his broadness, her hands raked over his thighs, making Harwin's hand lower to her neck, his lips descending shortly after.

The door knocked, Ayla sighed and before she could send the knocker away, she heard her father's voice.

"Two minutes Ayla" she sighed again, now in exasperation and looked at Harwin.

"Would you mind getting some more water? I think we'll need it" she kissed him shortly after he nodded.

They stood and Harwin walked to the door, opening and giving way to Ayla's father.

Once Ayla thought they were alone, she sat back down and looked at her father to prompt him to talk.

"Lord Lyonel -"

"Larys didn't send the letter" she interrupted, her anger over the matter made her bounce her leg nervously "Lord Mooton was still under the impression Harwin would marry his daughter"

"Could've been Simon Strong as well"

"You told me Lord Lyonel told you that Simon Strong had ended the negotiations of the betrothal as soon as he heard his disagreement on it. So it was Larys, waving around the privilege of talking with the voice of the Hand." She had to scoff humorlessly "hypocrite" she sentenced, her arms crossing at her front.

"Listen, Ayla" he reached to grab her hand and untangle her once crossed arms "the Red Keep is a dangerous place, do not judge a book by it's cover, Larys Strong is conniving and dangerous in his own way, he's clearly well aligned. You have to start trusting your husband on these matters, it is his job to protect you now"

"I will" she glanced at the door, minding for the footsteps that warned her of Harwin's presence "later. I do not wish to bad mouth my Good Brother so quickly"

"But he will, he will try to get under your skin, which is why you must create an united front with your husband"

"I'll bend when I can, and snap when I have to" She assured.

"As soon as I know more of Lord Mooton, I will write to you" Ayla nodded, her ears picking up the footsteps leading to the door. She crossed her arms at her middle again and dedicated a little smile to Harwin as soon as she saw him, he walked to the side table with a pitcher of water.

"You were saying -" Ayla prompted "about the talk you had with Lord Lyonel"

"Yes" he cleared his throat, Harwin walked and stood next to Ayla in her seat, her hand quickly came to hold his "we disagreed on the method of dissuation I used earlier, but I gave my reasons and both him and Lady Jeyne said they would back my doing with both the King and the Tully's. Since Lord Mooton was sanctioned before for his transgressions, I don't think we will encounter much problems with any of them. He did commit conspiracy to commit murder"

"Let us hope" Harwin said, his finger running over Ayla's knuckles. "What about the attacker that I knocked down?"

"Captured and forced to talk, he said his target was Ayla, he was to take advantage of the commotion the other caused, they were decoys"

"And Lord Mooton was to come triumphantly after he killed me to do what exactly?" She frowned, trying to wrap her head around the situation.

"A wild assumption would be that Harwin, free of his marriage with you, would honor the agreement and marry Lady Myra"

Harwin chuckled humorlessly, his hand grabbing tightly onto Ayla's.

"I would have first fallen on my sword than marry the daughter of my wife's killer"

Lord Edder followed with his own short chuckle, patting Harwin's arm.

"And if you had, I would've killed you myself"

"Father" Ayla scolded, standing next to Harwin, being enveloped by his arm and pulled to his chest.

"I would've glady let you"

"Okay" Ayla patted Harwin's chest and looked at her father "anything else, father?"

"No my girl" he pinched Ayla's cheek and smiled at her "I'll leave you to rest"

Ayla smirked when her father turned around, looking up at Harwin as he returned the same devious smirk.

Once the door was closed and they were alone again, it wasn't long between Harwin's fingers wrapped on the lace of her dress to undo it and those very fingers found themselves holding Ayla's waist as he pounded into her, her hands wrapped around his forearms pushed her breasts and the sight of them bouncing up and down was Harwin's only motivation to keep the relentless and quick thrusts he was providing. That and the loudest moans he'd heard from her yet.

All the pent up stress had quickly dissipated from his and Ayla's body transformed in the adrenaline that was cursing through Harwin's body as he fucked her, but had long left Ayla's body, who had reduced to let herself be deliciously manhandled around, knowing that the result would always be Harwin ripping another orgasm from her, each one threatening to make her lose consciousness. As she felt herself numb and shake at the same time, see black and flashes of light, she gave herself completely to the man she loved, complete trust as he knew how and when to stop, keep going, faster, slower rougher, how to touch her, when to touch her. She only wished she would some day find a way to pay back all the favors he provided.

If only she knew Harwin found his own extasy in pleasuring her like he had.

Ayla open her eyes, eyelids heavily closed without her control, the room was lit by the sunlight peaking, a small breeze flowed on her skin making her take account of only the lower half of her body being covered. She sighed, sending comands to her body to move. Nothing. Now she sighed in frustration. Suddenly, a heavy hand rounded her perked up behind, patting her ass cheek, she couldn't even comprehend, much less feel her body or in what twisted position she was in, but the pats, rythmical on her ass, she felt those.

"Are you trying to soothe me like a baby?" She asked, noticing how sore and gravely her voice sounded.

"I am, it worked for an hour"

Harwin wrapped his arm around Ayla's body, his lips kissed her shoulder and moved her hair a and out of the way of her neck.

"How are you my love?"

"Spent" she managed to say "why are you clothed?" She complained, the fabric of his shirt avoiding the skin to skin contact she needed.

"Because it's noon my love, I went downstairs to eat something, brought some other things for you-" he dipped his lips again to her shoulder, now moving up to her jaw and the shell of her ear "do you want some?"

"Sure" she managed again, but by the time Harwin climbed out of bed, rounded it and found a gown for her to wear, she was fast asleep again.

Being so spent didn't disuade her from climbing on top of him the very next night, coaxing him to have her and to leave her whimpering, sore, filled with his seed in however way he wanted, and that he did.

Ayla swore that she wasn't going to cry when she said goodbye to her family. She had grown accustomed to living without her brothers, she wouldn't feel their absence. Her father on the other hand, her sword and shield, she was going to miss him terribly. She clung to that last hug for more than necessary, only pulling back when Harwin pressed his hand at her lower back, they had to leave some time that day.

Her father placed a kiss on her forehead, she leaned back and took a deep breath, her tears at bay.

"I will come see you in King's Landing when my granchild is born" he assured, his hands pressed to Ayla's shoulders "I've also arranged for your brother to go with you"

That surprised her, she looked to the side at Adrian, who returned her a little smile.

"For how long?"

"Adrian is going to participate in the tournament that's to be held for Princess Rhaenyra's firstborn." Her father explained "if he does well, he will be vouched for by Lord Lyonel and become part of Princess Rhaenyra's detail, maybe even her Queen's guard in the future"

Ayla felt a relief instantly wash over her, her lungs at first constricted now relaxed in her chest and allowed her to breath properly.

Once in the carriage, Ayla pressed herself next to Harwin, her head coming to his shoulder as he kissed her forehead.

"When will be return to Harrenhal? To live there?" She asked, her arms tangling with one of his.

"When my father commands me to take the family seat. Though that might be some time" he pressed his lips to the top of her head "you will enjoy King's Landing"

"If you're there, I certainly will"

Larys sighed, gripping his cane as he looked over at the young Queen in front of him.

"So the wedding was..." She lingered, grabbing her cup and looking at Larys over it.

"It was fulfilled in it's entirety. I had hoped for a different outcome at the end of the night but-" he sighed again "I've underestimated them"

"Who?"

"All of them, the brothers are immensely skilled fighters, Ayla is extremely smart. She works her father with tremendous skill, all the while looking naive, innocent and completely unaware of the going of the word." He smiled, glancing at the Queen "a formidable opponent"

"We've lost Harrenhal then, it can be assumed it will always be guarded by Redfort forces, our allies in the Riverlands and the reach would not dare cross them"

"Time, it's all we need and all we have. Patience is what warrants, if it is the Queen's wishes, Prince Aegon will sit the throne"

taglist: @her-fandom-sanctum @mostlyskateboarding @evyiione @agentstarkid

[glisstraining]

A Step-by-Step Guide to Getting a Personal Licence Card in London with Gliss Training

Are you ready to take the next step into the world of hospitality? Whether you’re running a bar, managing a restaurant, or simply ensuring your business fulfills the alcohol legislation guidelines, you’ll need to first obtain a personal licence card. This Blog will emphasize how to obtain a personal licence card in London, and Gliss Training will guide you in the appropriate route. Personal License Card A personal licence card allows you to authorize the sale of alcohol on licensed premises. It is necessary under the Licensing Act 2003 for anyone who sells or approves the sale of alcohol. The benefits of the Personal Licence Card are as follows: – Career Advancement: This opens up management opportunities in bars, pubs, and restaurants. – Legal Compliance: It ensures that you follow the law when selling alcohol. Business Growth: A license is required for the expansion or formation of an alcohol-related business. How To Obtain Your Personal Licence Card in London 1. Register for a Personal Licence Course. First, you must enroll in a personal licence course. It will help you gain the knowledge you’ll need to pass the exam and apply for a personal licence. Gliss Training provides the best courses to meet your hectic schedule with thorough preparation. 2. Take the exam. Once the course is completed, a further exam must be passed. This would typically include questions about the Licensing Act 2003, your roles and responsibilities as a personal license holder, and some practical scenario-based questions. 3. Apply for Your Personal Licence. Once you’ve completed the exam, you can apply for your personal licence. This is done through the local council by submitting your qualifications, proof of a criminal record check, and the application fee. 4. License Card. After this is completed, which could take up to 8 weeks, you will receive your personal licence card. You will thereafter be eligible to be accountable for and authorize alcohol sales on licensed premises. Why Choose Gliss Training? Gliss Training is one of London’s leading provider of personal license classes, with the purpose of providing high-quality instruction with a high pass rate. Here are the reasons that make our courses stand out: Key Features of Gliss Training: Highly Qualified Tutors: Learn from industry specialists with years of experience. Flexible options include classroom classes and online learning. Complete Materials: Study guides, practice examinations, and support. High pass rates: Our students consistently do well. Course Details: Location: Online as well as in Stratford, London. Price: from £119.99. Duration: 1 day (in-person) or flexible (online). Website: https://glisstraining.com/ Find Gliss Training near you. Burrell House, 44 Broadway, Stratford, London – E15 1XH.

Key Statistics about Personal Licences in London:

1.       Every year, more than 10,000 personal licences are issued in London. 2. 80% Career Boost: 80% of credentialed individuals perceive an improvement in their career chances. 3. 95% Satisfaction Rate: Gliss Training graduates reported a very high level of satisfaction. 4. 30% Increase in Job Opportunities: A personal licence might boost your professional prospects by 30%. 5. Cost Range: Personal licensing courses might cost between £150 and £300. 6. 50+ Training Providers: Over 50 approved colleges in London can provide courses for personal licences. 7. 75% Online Options: Many companies offer Gliss Training, which enables online, flexible learning. 8. 98% Pass percentage: This is an extremely high pass percentage for persons who prepare using Gliss Training. 9. 1-2 Days Course Duration: Courses typically last between one and two days. 10. 70% Career Changers: 70% of those pursuing a personal license are looking to change or advance their careers.

Frequently Asked Questions. What is a personal license card? A personal licence card enables you to authorize the sale of alcohol on licensed facilities. This is essential for anyone with special legal or managerial obligations related to the selling of alcohol under a premises licence.

Who requires a personal licence card? Anyone who manages or permits the selling of alcohol in a licensed facility must possess a personal licence card.

How long does it take to obtain a personal licence card? The entire procedure – course, exam, and application – would take up to 8 weeks. How much does a personal licence card cost? Courses typically range between £119 to £300. Application fee is approximately £ 37.

Are the courses online? Yes, Gliss Training and other course providers provide the courses online for convenience.

What exactly does the personal licence course cover? This seminar would address the Licensing Act of 2003, the obligations of a personal license holder, and some practical scenarios.

How difficult is the examination? It is a simple exam if you study properly. Gliss Training will supply all you need.

How long does a personal license last? A personal license card does not expire unless it is revoked or surrendered.

What happens if I fail? You could retake this exam, but there may be additional charges.

Can I use the personal license card outside of London? Yes, the personal license is valid throughout the UK, however you must respect the rules in your area.

Conclusion Obtaining this personal license card will significantly advance your career in the hotel business. Gliss Training, with its expertise in skilled training and complete support, will adequately prepare you to achieve this. If you want to book one of our classes or get more information, please contact us or leave a comment. Here’s to your success with Gliss Training and moving forward with your career!

[rk21]

What are eco-friendly options for office interior work?

Eco-Friendly Office Interiors: Sustainable Options for a Greener Workspace

In today's world, sustainability is a top priority for businesses looking to reduce their environmental footprint and promote corporate responsibility. When it comes to office interior work, there are numerous eco-friendly options available that can help create a greener workspace while also enhancing the well-being of employees. From sustainable materials and energy-efficient systems to biophilic design elements and recycling initiatives, let's explore some eco-friendly options for office interior work that can contribute to a healthier planet and a more sustainable future.

1. Sustainable Materials

Choosing sustainable materials is one of the most effective ways to reduce the environmental impact of office interior work. Look for materials that are responsibly sourced, certified by reputable organizations such as the Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) or the Sustainable Forestry Initiative (SFI), and have low VOC (volatile organic compound) emissions. Examples of sustainable materials include reclaimed wood, bamboo, cork, recycled metal, and low-emission paints and finishes. By selecting eco-friendly materials, you can minimize deforestation, reduce waste, and create a healthier indoor environment for employees.

2. Energy-Efficient Lighting

Energy-efficient lighting is another eco-friendly option for office interiors that can help reduce energy consumption and lower utility costs. Consider installing LED (Light Emitting Diode) lighting fixtures, which use up to 75% less energy and last up to 25 times longer than traditional incandescent bulbs. LED fixtures also produce less heat, which can help reduce cooling loads and HVAC energy consumption. Additionally, incorporate natural light into office designs by maximizing access to daylight and using daylight harvesting systems to control artificial lighting levels based on available sunlight. By implementing energy-efficient lighting solutions, you can reduce your carbon footprint and create a more sustainable workspace.

3. Biophilic Design Elements

Biophilic design integrates elements of nature into the built environment, creating a connection with the natural world that enhances well-being and productivity. Incorporate biophilic design elements into office interiors by adding plants, living walls, water features, natural materials, and views of the outdoors. Research has shown that exposure to nature has numerous health benefits, including stress reduction, improved mood, and increased cognitive function. By incorporating biophilic design elements into office interiors, you can create a more inviting and inspiring workspace that promotes employee health and well-being.

4. Energy-Efficient Systems

In addition to lighting, energy-efficient systems such as HVAC (Heating, Ventilation, and Air Conditioning) and office equipment can help reduce energy consumption and lower operating costs. Upgrade to energy-efficient HVAC systems with programmable thermostats, variable-speed motors, and zoned controls to optimize comfort and efficiency. Replace outdated office equipment such as computers, printers, and copiers with ENERGY STAR certified models that use less energy and meet strict efficiency guidelines. Additionally, encourage employees to power down electronics when not in use and implement energy-saving practices such as turning off lights and unplugging chargers at the end of the day.

5. Waste Reduction and Recycling Initiatives

Waste reduction and recycling initiatives are essential components of eco-friendly office interior work. Implement recycling programs for paper, plastic, glass, and other recyclable materials to divert waste from landfills and conserve natural resources. Encourage employees to reduce paper usage by transitioning to digital documents and implementing double-sided printing policies. Additionally, consider donating used furniture and equipment to charitable organizations or recycling them through certified e-waste recycling facilities. By minimizing waste and promoting recycling initiatives, you can reduce your environmental impact and contribute to a more sustainable office environment.

6. Low-Flow Plumbing Fixtures

Low-flow plumbing fixtures such as faucets, toilets, and urinals are another eco-friendly option for office interiors that can help conserve water and reduce water usage. Install low-flow faucets and aerators to reduce water flow rates while maintaining adequate water pressure for handwashing and other activities. Replace outdated toilets and urinals with low-flow models that use less water per flush. Additionally, consider implementing water-saving practices such as fixing leaks promptly, installing water-efficient irrigation systems, and encouraging employees to report water waste. By conserving water, you can minimize water consumption and contribute to water conservation efforts.

7. Green Certifications and Standards

Consider pursuing green certifications and standards for your office interior projects to demonstrate your commitment to sustainability and environmental stewardship. Certifications such as LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design), WELL Building Standard, and BREEAM (Building Research Establishment Environmental Assessment Method) provide third-party validation of sustainable design practices and performance metrics. By achieving green certifications, you can differentiate your projects in the marketplace, attract environmentally conscious clients, and contribute to the global movement towards sustainable building practices.

Conclusion

In conclusion, there are numerous eco-friendly options available for office interior work that can help create a greener workspace and promote sustainability. From choosing sustainable materials and energy-efficient lighting to incorporating biophilic design elements and implementing waste reduction initiatives, there are many ways to reduce your environmental footprint and create a healthier office environment. By prioritizing sustainability in office interior work, you can contribute to a more sustainable future while also enhancing the well-being and productivity of employees. One can achieve these by getting in touch with the renowned design and build firm such as Flipspaces, who can help you with the same.

[dmm15]

What are eco-friendly options for office interior work?

Eco-Friendly Office Interiors: Sustainable Options for a Greener Workspace

In today's world, sustainability is a top priority for businesses looking to reduce their environmental footprint and promote corporate responsibility. When it comes to office interior work, there are numerous eco-friendly options available that can help create a greener workspace while also enhancing the well-being of employees. From sustainable materials and energy-efficient systems to biophilic design elements and recycling initiatives, let's explore some eco-friendly options for office interior work that can contribute to a healthier planet and a more sustainable future.

1. Sustainable Materials

Choosing sustainable materials is one of the most effective ways to reduce the environmental impact of office interior work. Look for materials that are responsibly sourced, certified by reputable organizations such as the Forest Stewardship Council (FSC) or the Sustainable Forestry Initiative (SFI), and have low VOC (volatile organic compound) emissions. Examples of sustainable materials include reclaimed wood, bamboo, cork, recycled metal, and low-emission paints and finishes. By selecting eco-friendly materials, you can minimize deforestation, reduce waste, and create a healthier indoor environment for employees.

2. Energy-Efficient Lighting

Energy-efficient lighting is another eco-friendly option for office interiors that can help reduce energy consumption and lower utility costs. Consider installing LED (Light Emitting Diode) lighting fixtures, which use up to 75% less energy and last up to 25 times longer than traditional incandescent bulbs. LED fixtures also produce less heat, which can help reduce cooling loads and HVAC energy consumption. Additionally, incorporate natural light into office designs by maximizing access to daylight and using daylight harvesting systems to control artificial lighting levels based on available sunlight. By implementing energy-efficient lighting solutions, you can reduce your carbon footprint and create a more sustainable workspace.

3. Biophilic Design Elements

Biophilic design integrates elements of nature into the built environment, creating a connection with the natural world that enhances well-being and productivity. Incorporate biophilic design elements into office interiors by adding plants, living walls, water features, natural materials, and views of the outdoors. Research has shown that exposure to nature has numerous health benefits, including stress reduction, improved mood, and increased cognitive function. By incorporating biophilic design elements into office interiors, you can create a more inviting and inspiring workspace that promotes employee health and well-being.

4. Energy-Efficient Systems

In addition to lighting, energy-efficient systems such as HVAC (Heating, Ventilation, and Air Conditioning) and office equipment can help reduce energy consumption and lower operating costs. Upgrade to energy-efficient HVAC systems with programmable thermostats, variable-speed motors, and zoned controls to optimize comfort and efficiency. Replace outdated office equipment such as computers, printers, and copiers with ENERGY STAR certified models that use less energy and meet strict efficiency guidelines. Additionally, encourage employees to power down electronics when not in use and implement energy-saving practices such as turning off lights and unplugging chargers at the end of the day.

5. Waste Reduction and Recycling Initiatives

Waste reduction and recycling initiatives are essential components of eco-friendly office interior work. Implement recycling programs for paper, plastic, glass, and other recyclable materials to divert waste from landfills and conserve natural resources. Encourage employees to reduce paper usage by transitioning to digital documents and implementing double-sided printing policies. Additionally, consider donating used furniture and equipment to charitable organizations or recycling them through certified e-waste recycling facilities. By minimizing waste and promoting recycling initiatives, you can reduce your environmental impact and contribute to a more sustainable office environment.

6. Low-Flow Plumbing Fixtures

Low-flow plumbing fixtures such as faucets, toilets, and urinals are another eco-friendly option for office interiors that can help conserve water and reduce water usage. Install low-flow faucets and aerators to reduce water flow rates while maintaining adequate water pressure for handwashing and other activities. Replace outdated toilets and urinals with low-flow models that use less water per flush. Additionally, consider implementing water-saving practices such as fixing leaks promptly, installing water-efficient irrigation systems, and encouraging employees to report water waste. By conserving water, you can minimize water consumption and contribute to water conservation efforts.

7. Green Certifications and Standards

Consider pursuing green certifications and standards for your office interior projects to demonstrate your commitment to sustainability and environmental stewardship. Certifications such as LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design), WELL Building Standard, and BREEAM (Building Research Establishment Environmental Assessment Method) provide third-party validation of sustainable design practices and performance metrics. By achieving green certifications, you can differentiate your projects in the marketplace, attract environmentally conscious clients, and contribute to the global movement towards sustainable building practices.

Conclusion

In conclusion, there are numerous eco-friendly options available for office interior work that can help create a greener workspace and promote sustainability. From choosing sustainable materials and energy-efficient lighting to incorporating biophilic design elements and implementing waste reduction initiatives, there are many ways to reduce your environmental footprint and create a healthier office environment. By prioritizing sustainability in office interior work, you can contribute to a more sustainable future while also enhancing the well-being and productivity of employees. One can achieve these by getting in touch with the renowned design and build firm such as Flipspaces, who can help you with the same.

[oldsalempost-blog]

The Old Salem Post

Our  Local Tamassee-Salem SC Area News each Monday except holidays                                          Contact: theoldsalempost@gmail.com                              Distributed to local businesses, town hall, library.                            Volume 7 Issue 24                                                                                                  Week of June 3,  2024                https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/oldsalempost-blog                                                         Lynne Martin Publishing

EDITOR: OPUS Trust, a local conservation 501c3 nonprofit networks with other local conservation groups such as Upstate Forever. The Upstate group is out of Greenville and has launched a New Generations Campaign to accelerate protection for the upstate and future generations by natural resource advocacy and responsible development.  One speaker explained how his father said to him about the family land,  “Son  l don’t want this ever developed.”   And, it won’t be thanks to the son placing the land in a conservation easement.   The out pouring theme to become better stewards of our resources, with smart and balanced growth and protection was the message we must share to our leaders and  to landowners.  Our cities are in high demand.   Paving is happening everyday in SC to some areas more quickly than others in the amount of 50 football fields daily.   Let’s start protecting our lands and way of life.  LM

TOWN of SALEM: 5 Park Avenue * Visit the Downtown Market every Sat, Hours 8am-12pm.  Fundraiser for Dean Moss at the Salem Fire Department, June 8th 8am- 4pm to help with medical expenses.   Community Alumni Celebration for Charles Rogers  June 15th at 3pm at the Eagles Nest Art Center. Everyone welcome as we celebrate his years of service.  County Election June 11 at the Salem Community Center 7am-7pm.   June Council meeting, June 18.  The annual July 4th celebration is on!   Open to all!  Contact Salem Town Hall.                                                                                                             .                            Jottings from Miz Jeannie  by Jeannie Barnwell     HORNETS and Your Safety           I thought that I had won the battle with hornets this spring.  A careful inspection of my eaves revealed that they had sought classier lodging in 2024.  Then, when planting seeds in containers on my picnic table I was beset by that horrible sensation that makes one want to peel off all of her clothes and jump in the lake.  These super-nasty cousins of ants and bees can sting right through clothes!   But where was the hive?  Finally, I discovered a very healthy start to a full-fledged hive.  By September, the hive can be the size of a round peach basket, and it can accommodate THOUSANDS of hornets.  This is powerful motivation for me to deliver a forceful eviction notice.  Jordan Franklin, the hornet expert at Clemson Extension Service, advised that I wait until dusk to spray the nest.     Here is a good tip from Jordan.  If you must us a flashlight, position it about 15 feet away from the nest.  You do not want to be holding the flashlight because the hornets will fly to its glow.  Miz Jeannie reminds you to plan ahead for your killing spree. WHAT WILL I WEAR?  WHAT DOOR SHOULD I USE?  WHERE WILL THE PETS BE?  DO I HAVE ENOUGH CHEMICALS?  HAVE I REMOVED TRIPPING HAZARDS Good Luck You Brave Warriors of Walhalla!  You spirited defenders of Tamassee!  I Love YOU!! Miz Jeannie                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

ASHTON RECALLS    by Ashton Hester   DIXIE YOUTH BASEBALL CAME TO SALEM 40 YEARS AGO - (The following story was in the May 16, 1984 Keowee Courier). . .Last Friday was a historic day in Salem, as Salem's new Dixie Youth Baseball team played its first home game. . .To honor the occasion, Salem Mayor Tommy Powell ceremoniously threw the first pitch to the team's catcher Edward Poore. . .The Salem Dixie Youth team, for ages 11 and 12, is in a league with three Walhalla teams. . .Salem also has two other youth baseball teams, also in their first year--one for ages 9 and 10 and one for ages 13 and 14--and also a softball team for girls. . .Footnote: Mayor Powell was pictured on page 1 of the Keowee Courier, throwing the pitch and then presenting the ball to catcher Edward Poore.

JOCASSEE VALLEY BREWING COMPANY,(JVBC) & COFFEE SHOP* 13412 N Hwy 11 Now opening on Tuesdays 12pm-7pm during the summer season. Food Truck: El Charro.  Wed–Sat 9am-9pm and Sunday 12pm-7pm   Events this week:  Wed: WING WEDNESDAY  & Blue Grass Jam at 7pm  Blue Ridge Grill at 4PM  Thursday: Food Truck: BLUE RIDGE GRILL 4PM   Fri: Music: Fayessoux McLean and Brandon Turner at 6:30PM Food:  Carolina Classic Diner    Sat– Music: Vilai Harrington & the Hamptones  at 6:30pm   Food: Carolina Classic Diner   Sunday: 12pm-7pm  Music:  4 PM.  Food: El Charro Music:  Amelia Hawk                  

LAKES APPRECIATION MONTH POSTER CONTEST!:  All grades K-12 are welcome to participate.  Send an electronic version of your artwork to lakesappreciation@nalms.org     Each entry must include student name, age, grade, school/organiation and contact information.   Prizes will be awarded to the top entry of each grade.  Deadline June 14, 2024.  Three posters will win a  $300 cash prize and $250 to the artists school or organization.  $50 to the artist.   * taken from the poster ad from nalms.org.   

EAGLES NEST ART CENTER

2024 UPCOMING EVENTS     Information on sponsorships, rentals, etc  864-280-1258 or email at eaglesnestartcenter@gmail.com.   The Eagles Nest Treasure Store is open every Saturday morning 9AM-12PM.  Will accept donations also or call 864-557-2462.                                                                                                                               June 3-7  ENAC hosts  Earth Art Camp for children 6-12 years old.  9AM-12PM                                             YOUNG APPALACHIAN MUSICIAN– YAMs is the group from Pickens County willing to help ENAC get started with an evening class each week on Tuesdays at 5:30PM. Cost will be $50 each month.  Instruments will be available for rental if needed at $20 per month.  For 3rd grade through adult.   Call 864-280-1258    

Oconee Mountain Opry– July 20th at 7pm.  Details next week.

Beverly Chesser with Beverly Exercise is coming to ENAC on Saturday, August 3 at 1pm to speak on wellness and fitness.  Beverly has shared her ministry for almost 50 years and is now 80 years old. She still leads and exercise group at her church in Anderson, SC every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Do not miss this opportunity to hear the message Beverly will share with us all. Admission is a donation only.   Tell all your friends and make plans to be encouraged spiritually, mentally, and physically.  

 CHURCH NEWS                                                              Bethel Presbyterian Church (PCUSA),  580 Bethel Church Rd Walhalla, 29691. Worship at 10:30 a.m.   June 9  Message by Mel Davis.  June 16 Message by Pat Rabun.  June 23 Message by Mel Davis.  June 30 Message by Pat Rabun.  Come Visit Us!

Salem Seventh-Day Adventist Church, located 240 W Main St , Salem,  cordially invites you to join us every Saturday at 9:30am  Vacation Bible School Sunday June 30, 1-4pm  The Creator Is My Friend/What do you taste?  Special feature: Clemson 4-H Native Carnivorous Plants

                                      HEALTH

Start a Forever Healthier Life– Look in your refrigerator and cabinets. If you find items with GMO or Bioengineered, vow to find an alternative!   Start eating an apple a day.  Snack on healthy nuts without salt.  Bake some sweet potato slices!  Bake homemade breads!  YUM!  LRM        

Dairy Farm Sign: When did it become OK to put artificial dyes and flavorings in our food, and then say raw milk is dangerous!                                                                                                        

What to do with the kids this week:   Attend a Vacation Bible School. Boone’s Creek has one this week.   Take a picnic and a nice waterfall hike to Oconee Station Cove Falls.   Stop by the Picket Post Produce stand for some boiled peanuts.  Plant seeds.                                                                       

BUSINESS HIGHLIGHTS                                                  Dawn’s Hair Design:   324 Palomino Farm Dr. Salem SC 864-710-7380                                                                                                 Hair on Main - 150 Hinkle Circle, Salem 864-944-2244    Habanero’s Mexican Grill  8211 N Hwy 11 Tamassee Open Sunday-Saturday 11am-supper time...                                                PAT’S CASH AND CARRY:  Best Hot dog in the Upstate and more!  Ice Cream! 944-1445. Tues-Sat 11-4                                    Mister and Missy’s Hair Salon: located beside the Tamassee DAR Thrift Store:   864-944-8732

Did you know that Memorial Day is also known as Decoration Day?  After the Civil War in May of 1865, May 30th became the day to honor all of America’s fallen soldiers.   Families decorated soldier’s graves as an act of reverence.  Later the 4th Monday in May became the federal holiday for all fallen soldiers.   

   Be safe this summer! LRM    

[tdgsolar]

Go Solar Now: 500 Watt Solar Panel Prices

500 Watt Solar Panel Price - Solar energy has become a major competitor as the economy continues to grow rapidly and the world moves towards a greener energy production model. India has long been at the forefront of sustainable energy sources, utilizing hydropower, geothermal energy, and wind energy alongside fossil fuels. Solar panels have become increasingly popular in the country due to the various benefits they offer, such as saving on electricity bills and avoiding power cuts. But what is the 500 Watt Solar Panel Price?

Power cuts have become increasingly common in many cities and towns, forcing people to turn to solar panels. 500W solar panels are a popular choice in Tier 2 towns and cities where power cuts are frequent. A small 2 to 3 BHK home can be powered for 4 to 5 hours with a 500 W solar system. It offers 97% inverter efficiency and over 16% module efficiency and comes with monocrystalline panels. To know the price of each type of 500W Solar panels, read on.

Price of a 500 Watt solar panel | 500 Watt Solar Panel Price

The estimated 500 Watt Solar Panel Price is Rs 50,000. There are still some variables based on which the cost may change. Some of the factors include vendors, locations, etc. The difference in price is based on the difference in quality, type, and brand of solar panels you are buying.

Being a necessity in the present times and age, where working from home and online learning have become a norm, power outages have become very common in a large section of towns and cities. Similarly, for those who rely on electricity for work, school, and various activities, the 500 W solar setup has become a great source of help. Also, solar panels reduce the burden of high electricity bills and enable you to save 1.5 units of electricity per day.

TDG SOLAR 500 Watt Solar Panels: Low Prices, High Quality!

TDG Solar is the trusted source of quality solar panels at an affordable price. Our products are CEC approved and installed by our experienced technicians who have been accredited by the Clean Energy Council (CEC). We provide home and business owners with the benefits of renewable energy and minimize the carbon footprint of residential and business customers. Our leadership team has been involved in energy cost reduction activities for the last 17 years. 

We offer a wide range of solar panels, including 500 Watt solar panels. Our 500 watt solar panels are built by renowned solar manufacturers and come with a 25-year performance warranty. We also provide battery-ready solar systems and commercial system experts. Our customers have been highly satisfied with our products and services and have left us glowing reviews. 

Benefits of Choosing TDG SOLAR for Your Solar Solutions in Perth, Western Australia 

Our company provides the best solar solutions at an affordable price. We produce high-efficiency solar panels with efficient installations, giving customers the best possible solar range in the market. Our team of experts is always available to provide 24/7 customer support, ensuring maximum customer satisfaction. The Benefits of Choosing TDG SOLAR:

High-quality solar solutions

Affordable price

High-efficiency solar panels 

24/7 customer support 

At TDG SOLAR, we are dedicated to providing customers with the best solar solutions in Perth, Western Australia. With our expertise and customer support, you can be sure that you are getting the best Power Sources to meet your needs. 

Contact Information

Name – TDG SOLAR

Address – 1/48 Vinnicombe Drive, Canning Vale WA 6155 Perth

Phone number – 1300TDGSOL (1300 834 765)

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[piastrinorris]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

masterlist | prev. | next

Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: Aaaaaand THIS is where the real good stuff starts! Sorry for all the other posts, just had to start getting the ball rolling. I am aware that since this is taking place in modern London, there may well be slang used that people don't necessarily recognise. If you'd like me to make a glossary of some kind, hit me up!! I hope you enjoy Ralph In The Future as much as I do <3

"Bet it feels strange being behind here again, doesn't it?" the customer asks you. It's an older woman, you don't particularly recognise her, but she certainly seems to know you well enough to know you've been promoted since you first started working here.

You force a smile, "Not really! Sometimes the floor just needs an extra pair of hands, and it helps me know what's working and what isn't for my staff and my customers, so," you shrug.

"Yeah, I don't envy you, still working at a time when nobody wants to work," she shakes her head.

You press your lips together tightly. There are so many arguments you could make right now, but already trying to juggle two roles is taxing enough. Instead you simply tell the woman her total and ring her through. Once again adorning your best customer service smile, you thank her for her custom and send her on her way.

"D'you think she's ever worked a customer service job in her life?" Your shop floor assistant asks as they re-fold their display shirts.

You shake your head, "I think… Cushty little secretary job at her dad's business, at first. Never had to pay rent, got married to the first guy at that job to pay her attention, got a council house nice and early and spawned a couple of kids just to stop him from walking."

They let out a wide-eyed, long-drawn breath, "Daaamn, someone woke up on the salty side of the bed this morning!"

You chuckle humourlessly, "That doesn't even make sense. And yeah, sorry, it just… Really sucks that I've got major shit to do this week, but I can't just let you do all the work out here on your own, not with Karens like that around."

"Can't you get your friend to come down and cover? Or to do your manager shit on their next shift?" 

"Nah, it's gotta be me. And they can't come in today because of their other job, so I'm gonna do it as overtime," you explain dejectedly.

"You're doing great, champ!" they sidle up to you to gently punch you in the shoulder encouragingly.

"Hey now, kiddo, I'm the manager here, I need to be motivating you!"

"Nah, you're sales right now. You're just as good as the rest of us common muck," they tease, and you stick your tongue out at them.

The day drags, and the quality of customers certainly doesn’t improve. A man who thinks he can return an item without a receipt. A woman who insists on ordering an item that’s no longer available because she saw a friend wearing it just last week. Children. 

And sure, maybe now, at 5:40pm, the customer of your dreams could walk in through the front door. But you and your coworker are exhausted, and this is the kind of shit you always wanted to become a manager to do. Taking one last look up and down the almost empty high street, save for the ones who are heading to the Wetherspoons on the corner, you decide to start the closing process early.

You manage to finish a little after 6pm, and you consider just getting all of your admin stuff done while you’re here, but also, you really can’t stand the sight of these four walls much longer. You figure you’ll just go to the coffee shop nearby, get yourself an iced latte for the walk home and think about what kind of takeaway you’ll be craving once you get back to your flat. No cooking. Not tonight.

You’re well into a mental debate about whether you’d rather have a chow mein or a biryani when something else piques your interest. There’s a man in front of you in some kind of costume. It’s either really old-school military, or… Safari explorer. Maybe he’s one of those live re-enactors. Maybe he works at the zoo. Maybe he’s just one of those quirked-up little guys. You get your phone out to text your friends, ready to ask them if they’ve seen anyone dressed similarly before, but as you continue walking you collide with something.

Someone. Your flimsy plastic cup gets crushed immediately upon the impact, pouring ice cold coffee down the strangely-dressed man’s back. Your first instinct is to shout, “Watch it!”

The man jumps out of his skin, either at your words or the ice cubes soaking his back. He spins around to look at you like a deer in headlights. Eyes like giant chocolate buttons stare you down. If he’s supposed to be dressed as an Army boy, he does not have the face to convince me, you think. Unless the message they’re sending is that literally anyone could get drafted.

“You alright?” you ask, eyes narrowing and head cocking as you study him.

“Ah - um - oh, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! This was absolutely my fault, I’m just - I’m so lost, and I was trying to find a man and now he’s gone and - oh, blast, stupid Ralph, you’ve really gone and done it now!” the man flusters, looking in every direction except at you.

You whistle and click your fingers at his eye level. “Hey, Bambi! Focus. It’s okay.”

He moves his head back to scrunch his face at you in confusion. “Bambi?”

You smirk, “Yeah, you’re like a baby deer right now. You said you’re lost? Where’re you trying to get to?”

“Uh, well, I suppose I should try and find my home, um… Penbury House?” he asks tentatively.

You kiss your teeth a few times as you think of where you’ve heard that name before. “Oh!” You look at him, puzzled. “You sure that’s your house?”

“Well, my name is Ralph Penbury, so…” he wiggles his shoulders from side to side before shrugging. You appreciate the extra flair.

“Right, but Penbury House is the name of the place they turned into a Waterstone’s,” you explain. He looks lost again, so you explain, “Waterstone’s is a bookstore.”

Ralph scoffs, “Oh, pish-posh, my home has not become a bookstore! That would be quite preposterous!”

So far your entire interaction with this strange man has been a tennis match of bewilderment, just exchanging expressions back and forth. “Are you, like… On something, mate? Do you need me to get you somewhere safe?”

“I want to go home, please! And not a… Bookstore, my real, actual home!” He’s starting to sound quite overwhelmed now, so you take a step back.

“Okay, okay. It’s okay. We can calm down. You mentioned looking for a man? Do you know this man?”

“Well, not personally, but I travelled here with him. About yea tall,” he holds his hand just in line with his eyebrows, “very old. Silent man. Hair just past his ears. Looks, um. Unwashed.”

Your eyebrows raise in realisation. “Ah, Homeless Pete!” Makes sense that Pete and his crew would be involved somehow. “Shall we go and find him?”

“Do you know where he is?!” Ralph asks, his expression lighting up. He may be dressed like an absolute twat, but you can’t deny his adorable little puppy-dog face.

“I know where he hangs out, we can go see if he’s there?” you ask, and Ralph nods. “C’mon,” you jerk your head in the direction towards where you know Homeless Pete tends to hang out when he’s not walking the streets. You wonder what ol’ H.P. (as your friends call him) could have given his poor boy to make him trip like this. “So, uh, quick question. Sorry, I completely forgot. What’s the full date today?”

“Well, the last I checked, it was September the 7th, 1926,” he replies simply. You stop in your tracks, and he looks back at you with a frown. “What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing, nothing,” you shake your head and carry on walking. This poor boy must be on something pretty damn strong. “Let’s get you to H.P, yeah?” Just to find out what he’s taken. Then it’s straight to the hospital.

Ralph inhales so loudly that a guttural sound forms in his throat. “Oh my goodness! Do you think - am I in - the future?” He grips your arm tightly. “Was the lift a time machine, perhaps?”

“Maybe,” you tap his hand lightly with your own as you keep walking with him, "considering that it's September the 7th, 2022." Normally, you would be throwing any stranger that hugged your arm like Ralph now is to the ground, but there’s just something about him. Either he plays the innocent human puppy role far better than any indie boy that’s ever tried to hit on you on a night out, or he really is just going through it.

You eventually reach the underpass where a large part of the local homeless population gather, and sure enough, there is Pete himself, sat between two shopping trolleys. He spots the two of you and immediately bursts into laughter. “What the fuck, H.P?!” you yell. “You’re usually chill, what have you done to this poor boy?!”

“‘M not a boy, I’m a grown man, thank you,” Ralph mutters into your shoulder.

“‘Course you are, babe,” you murmur sarcastically as you nod at him, before once again turning to Pete. “Well?! You’ve got him talking about - about time machines, and the 1920s, I mean, just look at how the poor sod’s dressed!” Pete’s eyes widen as he waggles his finger at you, as though you’re both in a game of charades and you’re on the right track. You turn to one of the people Pete lives amongst, “What’s he been on today?”

The other person shakes their head. “Nothing, swear down! Besides, he’s a proper tight-arse, he wouldn’t go ‘round drugging any fucker going. ‘Specially not a toff like that,” they snort with laughter as they point to Ralph.

You look back to Homeless Pete. “So, you’re telling me. Time travel is fucking real.” Pete nods. “And you were in 1926, and you dragged this sad sack of shit out here with you, with no context.”

“You know I can hear you,” Ralph points out indignantly, but still quietly and still from the safety of behind your shoulder. His arms are still wrapped around yours, too.

“Yeah, but look at you, mate. You’re not exactly getting us answers as to how to get you back to… Wherever we get you back to,” you explain before once again turning to Pete. “Where is this… Time machine? Ralph said something about a lift.” Pete snarls as he gestures over to a block of flats you vaguely recognise. “So we go there, get him back in the lift, and then what? Is there a button, or a combination, or -?” Pete moves his hand from side to side. “And what does that mean, is it a random button each time?” Again, it feels like you’re in a game of charades as he silently tells you you’re on the right track. “Is the random part right?” Nod. “So, it’s not about the button, but… The floor you get on?” A shake of the head. “Is it just at random times?” Nod. “So, how do you know when to go back to it?” He shrugs, then points to his temple. “What, you get some kind of vibe, some Spidey sense?” He nods with an upside down smile. You sigh. “So we don’t know when Ralph here can get back.” A shake of the head.

“Do I have to stay here with him, then?” Ralph asks you sadly.

You sigh again. “No, c’mon. I guess you won’t want Chinese or Indian, we’ll just get a chippy dinner on the way home.” You start walking in the other direction, and Ralph quickly paces to catch up with you.

“A chippy dinner?” he asks, baffled.

“Yeah! Like fish and chips? They had that in the 20s, surely?” you reply.

“Well, yes, I suppose, but we only ever had it at the seaside,” he cocks his head as though reminiscing fondly. It only accentuates the cuteness of his whole face.

“Think you can be a big boy again now, or do you still wanna hold on?” you ask, outstretching your arm. He doesn’t appear to blush in the conventional sense, but his ears do flush a bright pink. Even more adorable. Fuck. Remember, he’s technically like a hundred years older than you. He slinks one arm around yours and you pull him in tightly by pressing your own arms towards your torso. “There we go. Now I can make sure I’m guiding you so that hopefully you don’t get bumped into anymore.”

“I think I’ve certainly learned my lesson in not standing still in front of people!” Ralph jokes, making you genuinely laugh for the first time all day. It feels strange, you can feel every muscle in your face move with it. But you also feel the weight on your chest lifting, too. You’d been at boiling point all day at work, and discovering a time-traveller wasn’t exactly helping you to simmer down. But you can make this work. He’s just an… Eccentric, extremely sheltered family friend who’s staying with you for a short while. That’s what you’ll tell anyone who asks.

“Yeah, you’ve learned that if you do, some dickhead’ll throw their iced coffee all over your back!” you laugh.

Ralph frowns, “You’re not a - a one of those, at all! You’re very nice to take me in like this. Most people seemed to think I belonged in a jungle.”

“Yeah, the old school military uniform kinda looks more… Safari explorer, these days,” you explain.

Ralph’s eyes light up. “Someone finally recognises the Army uniform for what it is!”

“Yeah, I thought I recognised it from when we went to the War Museum for school once. That was the kind of get-up they used to wear in the First World War.” You trip over your own feet a little as Ralph once again halts to anchor you to him, despite what he’s just said. He looks… Distraught. “Alright, mate?”

“Why did you say… First World War?" He asks with fear in his voice. "We won the Great War to restore the - the balance of power, how long did that last?!” He looks at you, dumbfounded.

You hiss air through your teeth. “Oh, boy. Yeah, there’s a lot that’s happened in the last century. I don’t know if it’s such a good idea telling you all of it, since once you get back, it’ll be your future, so…” You contemplate. “We’ll just keep all the questions you have to stuff you’ll need to get by in the here and now, alright? Anything you learn about history, just try and let it go over your head,” you pull him forwards gently and he falls back into step with you.

“One question I have about the here and now,” Ralph starts, and you look over at him. He makes eye contact with you to ask, “What exactly is your name?”

Laughing again, you tell him. “Sorry, I really should have led with that, shouldn’t I! It’s been a long day."

“I’ll say. About a hundred-odd years long!” A giggle bubbles out from Ralph’s lips and it makes you snicker, too.

“You’re a funny one, Penbury. For an old sod, at least,” you push your shoulder into his before leading him into the chip shop. “So, are you a fish guy, sausage, fishcake, pie?”

Ralph looks at all the options in the serving counter with an upturned nose. “What’s that one?” he asks, pressing his finger against the glass.

You look over and answer, “Battered sausage. Sausage, but in the batter they cook the fish in. Bloody lovely,” you smile wistfully. 

“I might just stick to the classic cod and chips, thank you,” Ralph mutters under his breath as he stares around the small room in fascination. You order on behalf of the pair of you and take the bag from the server with a grateful smile. Ralph notices and plasters one on as well, though his definitely comes off as more fake. He basically attaches himself to your arm again the second you’re out of the door, as though you’re bound together magnetically, and you guide him to the tower block that contains your pokey little flat.

After spending several minutes convincing Ralph that the lift isn’t going to suck him into another time period, and that he’s more than welcome to traipse up all the stairs that lead to the ninth floor, he relents and stands in the lift with you, though he stands so close that you’d think his goal was for you to wear him. Brushing against his chest feels nice, though. Shut up, you’re just touch-starved. This is not your ticket out of your dry spell. This is a fever dream.

Once you’re in your flat, you quickly dig out whatever men's clothes you have laying around - some sweatpants and a white T-shirt, and you throw them at him. "Just to get out of your dirty clothes while I plate up, eat before this gets cold, then you can go shower. I'm sure there's some boxers in my pyjama drawer you could use, too, I'll find those for you in a bit." You point to your bathroom and he quietly complies.

You could've just eaten the meals straight from their wrapper, the way you always do. But you figured Ralph has had enough culture shocks as it is, you'll give him the decency of eating from a plate. Besides, spending your night with a man dressed in 1920s army gear who's eating fish and chips out of some paper on his lap might just be enough of a sight to tell you to get yourself checked into the psych ward at the earliest convenience. At least you can try and create some kind of normalcy in this moment.

A quick Google search tells you television wasn't around in 1926, so you don't want to expose him to that tonight, too. Give it a day, maybe. You could play some old-time-y music on your Echo but you're not sure what he'd want to listen to. Instead, once you're both sat on the sofa together, you make conversation with him about his past as you eat. He tells you about how the Penburys were known socialites, how he and his sister had pretty much the same group of friends, how they had recently found friends in a rather special group of people, one of which he'd fallen head over heels for, just for her to reject him, and his heartbreak caused him to join the Army, which he hated.

"It's rather funny, you know," Ralph adds. "People here talk very similarly to Lauren and the others. I wonder if they exist in this time, too."

You start piecing things together. "Lauren… Plays jazz… She the drummer in this little quartet?" Ralph nods, his eyes wide. "Kinda short, has a brother called Nick?"

"Nicholas, yes! He's tall and he wears thick glasses! You know them?!" Ralph asks excitedly.

"Yeah, Nick was in my class all through high school! Always used to fancy him," you reminisce happily before stifling a laugh. "Wait, wait. So you mean to tell me that this Lauren you're besotted with is - is Little Lauren? Oh, you poor, sweet boy."

He looks offended. "Why would you think that that’s such a bad thing?!"

"Mate, I've known you five minutes and even I know Lauren would chew you up and spit you out," you look at him sympathetically. "And you're not gonna be able to change her on that. Unless you're into all that kinda stuff," your nose turns up a little as you joke, just to get a reaction from him.

Sure enough, there go the illusive colour-changing ears. He sputters, "W- I - I don’- I’m no- That is no appropriate discussion topic over dinner!” and you collapse into a fit of giggles, falling into him a little.

“Oh, lighten up, Ralph. Things are far less proper round here, that was nothing,” you explain, to his horror.

Once you’re both finished eating, you grab a clean pair of boxers from your pyjama drawer and toss them into the bathroom, gesturing to Ralph with your head that that’s where he ought to go. “Sorry you’re gonna have to use your finger as a toothbrush tonight, I’ve not got any extras of those, but -”

“Oh, all of this is already above and beyond! Even taking me in, I - I hope you understand how truly grateful I am, and with your patience acclimating me to… All this,” Ralph gestures around with his hands.

You nod with a soft smile. “Uh, give the shower a few minutes to run, though. Goes from freezing to scalding and then you’ve just sort of gotta… Keep fiddling with it. You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.”

The various screeches you hear from behind the closed door suggest that he is not as successful in figuring out the shower as you’d hoped. While he showers, you do a little more digging. Thankful that your mum’s weird obsession with your family tree may finally come in handy, you ask for the login to her online ancestry account. Tapping through to the census search, you type the name ralph penbury and set the dates between around 1890 and 1930 to look for any documentations of birth - or death. Sure enough, an entry pops up: 

Ralph Penbury - Date of birth: 01/02/1901 - Parents: William and Delilah Penbury - Occupation: Private in the Armed Forces - Death: Announced 19/09/1926 - MIA, presumed dead

You frown at the result. Was Ralph always doomed to go missing in action, you wonder? Is he only presumed as such because he’s travelled through time? His existence hasn’t been completely erased by the trip, obviously, but how much of this was affected by it? It hurts your head to try and think about. But at least you know when his birthday is. It’s still a few months away by all accounts, you may not even get to celebrate it with him. You still make a note of it in your phone.

Ralph soon emerges from the bathroom, and the sight causes your breath to catch in the back of your throat. He already had a certain cuteness about him, but as he rubs his hair dry with the towel, his damp natural curls stick out in all directions. Some facial hair and a neck chain or two, and he’d be exactly the kind of guy you’d let break your heart in a smoking area. He studies your face carefully as you’re staring at him. “Is there something wrong?”

“No!” you snap yourself out of your trance quickly. “No, not at all. Um, you can - you can take the bed. If you want. Get a good night’s sleep.”

Ralph gasps in horror, “I could never! I am simply a guest, I must insis-”

“And I must insist that you’ve literally travelled almost a hundred years to be here. Who knows when you’re gonna be here until, so… I don’t mind. I can sleep on the sofa for now, I promise,” you smile. “Just let me get in there real quick to get changed myself too, yeah?” Despite still standing in the bathroom doorway, and therefore not in the way of your bedroom, Ralph still steps aside and gestures towards it for you.

You change into a tank top and trousers combo, grab a blanket and some cushions out from your wardrobe, and head back into the living area. “Are you decent?” Ralph asks, his eyes squeezed.

You laugh, “Down, boy, I wasn’t exactly going to come out in my birthday suit, was I?! Yes, I am, you can look.”

He opens his eyes, takes one look at you, and yelps before covering his face with his hands. “You said you were decent!”

You look down at yourself, confused. Sure, the top is well-fitting, but you don’t think it’s indecent at all. You walk over to him and pull his wrists down. His eyes are once again shut tightly. “Ralph. It’s okay. I promise. Again, this is absolutely fine and modest in these times. Unless you want to stick out like a sore thumb, you’ll have to get used to it,” you shrug, letting go of him. He opens his eyes slowly and his breath shudders as he quickly jolts away.

“Okay, very well. I’ll try my hardest,” he nods, though he seems to be making the effort to keep his jaw up to maintain a high eyeline. “Are you sure you’ll be okay sleeping out here?”

You sigh, repeating once again, “Yes, Ralph, I’ll be fine. Go get some rest. You’ve had a big day.”

“Yes, very well. Erm,” he ducks his head down and to the side for a split second, as though to kiss your cheek, before stopping himself and once again raising his head high, his eyes wide and his ears pink. He clears his throat. “Thank you, again. Good night.”

“G’night, mate. Sleep well,” you pat his arm and start setting up the sofa for the night as he enters your bedroom and closes the door behind him.

You stick the TV on, not really caring what’s playing as it only really serves as background noise, and turn your lights off. The glows of the television screen and your phone screen illuminate the room as you search for any other evidence of time travel. Nothing that matched Ralph’s story comes up. You’re somewhere deep into a conspiracy theory about someone with a mobile phone being spotted at a Charlie Chaplin premiere when you finally drift off to sleep.

next chapter

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 10

The Darkling x Reader

*I’ve changed this part like 5 times so if there’s any inconsistencies I do apologize 😝

In a perfect world, you and Aleksander would have spent the day in his luxurious bed surrounded by his soft silk sheets. You felt an overwhelming feeling to open up to him, to tell him everything that happened to you since you saw him last, nearly a century ago, but life has a way to ruin perfect opportunities.

Wars didn't take breaks or vacations, they got more deadly as time went on and each side got more nervous as more people gave their lives to the cause. A solution was necessary and from your understanding, Aleksander still had the same plan as he did all those years ago he just had a different way to go about them. No doubt Alina was at the center of them.

You had business to attend to too. The first on the list was a meeting with the council. The King and his advisors were to be there to 'greet' you with open arms, but you were sure you'd have to put on a quick performance of your abilities to satisfy their curious minds.

Maybe that's why he gave me the shadows, to ensure my position. You quickly brushed off the thought. It didn't really matter to you why he did what he did. You had your shadows back. He claimed protection, but you knew there was a different reason behind it as well. It seemed too quick and too easy in your opinion but who were you to judge what kind of trust he truly had in you. You felt comfort that you always had piece of him wherever you went.

On a lighter note, you could finally wear a black kefta. The thought itself had you quickly leaping out of his bed and skipping to your chambers in a mere robe through the secret passages of the Palace. You didn't want anybody to see you leaving his quarters, not in the state you were in. You needed to grab a Healer and get rid of those very visible marks on your neck that Aleksander took his time creating. He intended to mark you as his own but jokes on him, you never wanted to belong to anybody but yourself.

Time passed and servents scurried in and out of your chambers, carrying information from here there and everywhere. You were already overwhelmed with tasks and your position wasn't even announced to the Palace yet. You were still the mysterious Grisha that served with the Darkling, not for.

Your vanity was covered in papers and reports in handwriting you had trouble reading and your bed had maps strung across it. Aleksander truly meant it when he said he would get you started right away and share his responsibilities as soon as he got the chance.

When the time finally came, you were escorted to the Grand Palace with Aleksander walking right next to you. The conversation was devoted to work and nothing else, Fjerdan intel, rumors of West Ravka and Zlatan, and upcoming skiff journeys but you didn't mind. You were damn good at your job, having started out in the First Army and then joining the Second Army had given you experience not even the General had, it's what made you the first pick when dealing with plans involving otkazat'sya soldiers, they respected you. I wonder if they will now.

You had spent 3 years in the First Army once upon a time. You came from a wealthy merchant family, a family full of drunks and abusers and cowards. You gave up the feeling of a full stomach and duck-feathered beds for the rations of the army once your mother admitted to you being a bastard and not worthy of the family name. What a shame. Look at me now.

You never knew what you could do, but a slip-up with a Tidemaker had you served to the Darkling on a silver platter. He was meaner then, more unforgiving. Your years spent with him after that had changed him, made him better in your eyes. You fell for him, hard, even though there was so much death and destruction in his wake. When you love somebody, it’s easy to see past all of the nasty stuff and focus on whatever is left of the good and Aleksander still had an abundance of if.

You could still remember his cold stare as he asked you what the hell you were. After pleading with him that you didn't know and his Heartrenderer confirming it, he whisked you away to the Little Palace where soon enough you had become his equal, if not his superior.

'I actually wanted to ask you something about one of the Grisha in the Palace. I seen her with Alina, red-hair, big blue eyes... she wore a white kefta?' You said as you wlaked down a mirrored hallway in the Royal building.

'Oh, that's Genya Saffin. She works for the King and Queen.' He said with an underlying tone of irritation.

'What does she do? She wears a white kefta so I'm just curious'

'She's a tailor. Member of the Corporalki. She should be wearing red, I know. But trust me the time will come' He ushered us both into a guarded room of glitering gold and pearly white walls. So tacky. I could make out the king slumped in an overdone throne-like chair.

'Moi tsar' you and Aleksander bowed much to your distastes. You hoped nobody had seen the brief look of disgust wash over your face as the Lanstov King rose and gave his advisors a raised eyebrow, signalling to you. A man wearing a navy uniform looked at you like a piece of meat ready to be devoured. I'm gonna throw up.

'Deputy General Y/L/N is it?' He took your hand in his own sweaty one gave it a wet kiss. 'You Grisha are always easy on the eyes aren't you?'

You took a step back and cleared your throat. 'Yes, Moi Tsar, it is an honour to make your acquantance' You tried so hard to keep your fists at your sides.

'And what can you bring to the war table, apart from the newest fashion' He let out an obnoxious laugh and his advisors followed. They all looked smug and spoiled. None of them had any idea what the real world looked like and yet had the audacity to sit this council. I'll show them what it means to be powerful.

Aleksander stepped away to the side and gave you a nod. You slowly unravlled your fist and plunged the room into darkness while simultanseoly blowing a strong wind throughout the space, letting papers fly in all directions and the fire go out. You relit it, and every candle in the room. The man in the navy unifrom got the runt of your powers, as you slowly medled with his heart until he breathed a worried laugh 'Stop it Girl'.

But you didn't stop, you carefully stared at the chair the man sat in and pushed it just enough for him to let out a yell. You accidently let out a chuckle that was meant to be in your head. You felt Aleksander move toward you 'All right, that should be enough' He said visibly amused too. You let it all drop.

'It's Deputy General to you' You looked at his fearful face that tried to cover by fixing his jacket and whiping away invisible dust off of his shoulder.

'I must say I am impressed. With the Sun-Summoner and... you, we will have West Ravka and the surroundings begging for our alliances.' He sat down on his chair once again and pointed to an empty one across from him and to the right of Aleksander, who unbeknownst to you had already seated himself.

'Please, Deputy General, do take a seat, we have business to tend to'

****

A painful 2 hours later you and Aleksander walked out of the Grand Palace. You had a headache and your hands hurt from clentching them so hard.

'I'm assuming you sitting the King's meetings for me is off the table now?' Aleksander mused and all you could do was give him a side-eye.

'I think I want to kill him'

'In due time'

You weren't even surprised. If he didn't do it himself you definitely would have taken one for the team. That man is unbearable; like a child in a grown man's body.

As you wallked into your home, Aleksander gently took hold of your wrist and pulled you in the direction of his quarters.

'Come'

Your head was pounding too much to say no so you obliged. The hallways were bare of people, not a Grisha in sight.

You reached his war room doors and walked in after him. He pulled out a map and laid it down.

'I've sent out a First-Army search for the Stag.'

You paused. The headache suddenly gone. Morozova’s Stag. He had tried once before and failed. The weeks following his failure sent him into a frenzy, he questioned Morazovas journals and almost burned them all, but you had gotten to him last-minute. You never doubted the stag to be real. You just never believed he would use it. He's powerful on his own unless- it's for Alina.

You audibly sighed and leaned your back against the table. Alina.

'Does she want it?'

'Does that matter?'

‘Of course it matters!’ You scorned but he stayed silent.

You turned to look at him and whispered 'What are you planning this time?' He had been dropping hints here and there, but so far there was no plan you knew of. 'I can't help you if I don't know the plan'

'No. You're better of not knowing anything. I can't lose you again' you turned you head and looked at his side profile.

'But you need me. I'm powerful, I can lead an army'

'If anything happens you can take over for me then, Deputy.' He cocked a sad smile and left a lingering kiss on your forhead before he left you standing in the war room alone and confused.

Part 11

Taglist

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal

[lathalea]

All Is Fair in Love and Trade –  Part 5/9

Relationships: Thorin x Reader

Rating: E

Warnings: lots of smut, swearing, smut, power play and smut

You can read the other parts here:

The Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...

For @gwen-ever

Notes for this chapter: The author of the last part of this chapter (Ragna's dream) is gwenever! Thank you so much for adding this amazing piece to this fic, you really read my mind sometimes! 💙🤩 🤣Khuzdul phrases (based on th NeoKhuzdul dictionary by the Dwarrow Scholar): Zunshanush - (intimate endearment in Khuzdul) tiny songbird Zunshanushê - my tiny songbird

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All Is Fair in Love and Trade, part 5/10

Next evening

This has been a very long day, and a very busy night before it. Since the moment His Haughtiness left your chambers, you haven’t caught any sleep. No, it didn’t have anything to do with his scent lingering on your bedsheets nor your reluctance to spend the rest of the night alone in that bed. You are a professional who is simply determined to prepare all the documents on time. Your king has given you a direct order and you are not going to ignore it, you are not that stupid. But Ragna, daughter of Eldi, is not a meek lamb, oh no. Yes, you are going to do as he says, but you are planning to do it on your terms. If that high-handed, arrogant, self-important, annoying, stubborn mountain goat of a king wants his bloody papers, he will get them, and more! Much more.

Fueled by anger and lots of other emotions you are too busy to figure out, you conduct the last treaty meeting, finalizing the agreement. The atmosphere in the council chambers is quite tense and you can’t help but notice the nervous glances exchanged by several of the advisors, including Lord Balin and Master Ori, the king’s personal scribe. It does not surprise you in the least. The King Under The Mountain has clearly decided to outdo himself. He is grunting, huffing angrily, drumming his fingers on the table, casting snide remarks at anyone who dares to speak, and generally giving the impression of a rabid warg whose only wish is to bite everyone’s heads off. Oh, and have you mentioned he is ignoring you almost ostentatiously? Fine. But you know what, your majesty? Two can play this game. You are ignoring him too, as much as the etiquette allows, and doing everything you can to wrap up these cursed negotiations once and for all.

At the end of the meeting, his majesty Thorin II Oakenshield announces pointedly that he expects to sign all the documents tomorrow morning, as soon as they are ready. Speaking these words, he casts an icy glare at you, adding that he is to return to Erebor right after the treaty is finally signed. Stupid, irritating king.

You know exactly what he expects from you but he is not going to get it, oh no. You are not going to crawl on your knees to his rooms, begging him to stay. You! Begging him! In his dreams! That arrogant, full-of-himself bastard can forget it! Since the moment the door closed behind him after he left your chambers last night, that thought has not crossed your mind. Not even once have you thought of getting up from your desk and rushing after him. Not at all. You didn’t have to stop yourself from pressing the door handle down and opening your door in order to leave your place. There were no stupid, ridiculous tears dropping on the parchment and smudging the ink as you wrote the conditions of that pointless treaty. And, of course, you didn’t have to start writing from scratch once or twice. Or maybe thrice. Not that you were counting, because, hey!, there was nothing to count! Nothing like this has ever happened! Certainly not. But shredding the tear-stained pages to pieces and throwing them into fire seemed awfully liberating. Deep down, you are hoping that the King of Longbeards and Short Temper kept on pacing through his rooms, waiting all night long for you to come, brooding, fuming, and not being able to sleep, exactly like you.

And now, the next evening is upon you. The King told you to deliver the treaty documents tomorrow morning, but you are going to hand them over to him now this very evening. Just because you can. And then you are going to show him what you think of him.

You are walking along the corridor leading to his chambers, clutching the rolls of parchment in your hands, when the door to his rooms burst open and a visibly frightened servant darts out of them.

“Out! Now!” a roar follows the sprinting dwarf.

You recognize that voice at once; you have heard it every day and every night for the last two weeks.

As for the servant, a blond-haired boy in a green doublet, he passes you by, pale as a sheet, probably not even registering your presence. In a blink of an eye, he disappears around the corner. Poor soul. You wonder what he has done to deserve such treatment, but then you recall why you came here in the first place. Taking a deep breath, you approach the king’s chambers. It is time for your revenge.

The door is still wide open, but you knock on it anyway. Being obnoxiously polite never hurts.

“I said: get out!” there is fury in Thorin Oakenshield’s voice. His broad back is turned towards you and his fist slams into the table in front of him. Oh, someone is in a foul humour. How sad for the young servant who had to face the onslaught of the King’s wrath moments ago. How unlucky for the ruler of Erebor. Such manifestations of anger do not make the slightest impression on you. You have taken part in too many negotiations to not to know how to handle furious dwarves.

“Does that mean that you are no longer interested in signing the treaty, your majesty?” you ask flatly.

His back straightens and he turns to face you, stone-faced, his jaw set. His ice-blue eyes are piercing you ruthlessly, traveling from your face to the parchments in your hands, but you notice a shadow of surprise in his gaze.

“Lady Ragna,” he greets you coldly and strides towards you. “Have I not told you to bring me those documents tomorrow morning?”

This is when you fire your shots. “I took the liberty of delivering them to you sooner, your majesty. I thought you might want to read them tonight...” you smile viciously and deliver the last load without batting an eyelash, “...and be free to leave the Iron Hills faster.”

If his freezing stare had magical qualities, you’d be a chunk of ice right now.

“How thoughtful of you, Lady Ragna,” each of his words sounds as if it was imbued with venom as he slightly lowers his head, looking like a battle ram ready to charge. The only thing missing in this picture is a pair of curved horns on his head. “But this is not what I asked of you.”

“Well, the papers are here now,” you reach out to hand him the parchments, but he doesn’t make a move, standing there like a mountain, silent and unreachable. Feeling the weight of his scrutinizing gaze on you, you pointedly walk towards his desk on your left and leave the documents there. Casting a look around the chamber, you notice an open trunk in the middle of the room. It is already half-filled with clothes and other personal items. He is truly leaving. There is a lump in your throat. You take a deep breath and close your eyes for a moment.

The sound of slamming door makes you jump. You turn towards the source of this noise and see the King facing you, his back towards the now closed door.

“Why tonight, Ragna?” he growls. “Why?”

“So you can read it, sign it, and go back to your life, to Erebor, to serve your people waiting for you there,” you raise your voice. Why? Maybe because you have just imagined him spending nights in the arms of some of his people, his beautiful, alluring, and most probably very devoted subjects. And then you continue with a smirk “While I… I will continue to serve my people again. I will be following your lead in everything, your majesty, exactly as I told you!”

Yes, you will. Lord Ulfgeir, Captain Eivor, Master Fjorvi. All three of them, at once. Just because you can.

King Under the Mountain’s fury apparently doesn’t cloud his judgement because he grits his teeth, catching your hidden meaning while his hands clench into fists.

“Nobody was stopping you from doing as you please in your spare time!” he bellows.

“Sadly, I was occupied every day and every night with fulfilling your demands, your majesty! Now I will be free to do as I please with anyone who pleases me and me alone!” you rush towards the door in an attempt to leave this bloody place and the king behind before you lose control even further.

There is, however, one small problem. Thorin the Warrior is blocking the door, standing rooted to the spot, his legs wide apart, his strong arms folded on his chest.

“So our agreement hasn’t brought you pleasure at all. Is that what you are saying?” he sneers.

“Our agreement was clear: a day of fruitful negotiations for a night in each other’s arms. Now you are leaving so the deal is done,” you speak coldly, hoping against hope that each of your words causes him as much pain as you are feeling now. “This was not the deal, Ragna!” he towers above you, flashing his white teeth in anger, fisting his hands.

“This was the deal, Thorin!” you shout back at him, raising your chin defiantly. “You are leaving and now, there is nothing I want to happen more, to see you leave and go back to Erebor so you can lay with every single dwarf-woman in that damned mountain of yours!”

Your words echo in silence.

The king’s shoulders stiffen visibly when he speaks, cold fury ringing menacingly in his voice, “You will be disappointed to know that your wish will not be fulfilled. This is not what I want!”

“What a shame! You had your last chance last night, but you threw it away! You and your stupid pride! Now go and live the rest of your life thinking how royally dumb you were by not taking the last piece of me when you had the chance!” you retort, walking up to him and jabbing your finger at his broad chest. “By not taking the last kiss, the last moan, the last embrace, the last caress from me and--”

In a blink of an eye, Thorin the Warrior pins you to the wall, his hands wrapped around your wrists. You feel the hardness of his chest brushing mercilessly against your breasts, the scent of pine and peppermint filling your nostrils.

“Silence!” he roars, flames of wrath burning in his eyes. “Is this how you wish to end this?!”

“End what? The negotiations? Isn’t that what you wanted?!” you hiss at him. “Do not take me for a fool, Ragna! You know what I am talking about!” a grow leaves his mouth, his face dangerously close, hovering above yours. Mahal, you can’t falter, not now. You take a deep breath.

“There is nothing else to end! You left my chambers the other night, and that's how the agreement between us ended! You could have stayed, but you’d rather leave, so that's how it ends! With you leaving these hills, your majesty!” you spit out at him.

“You have just brought me the papers so that I would leave sooner and now you are telling me I could have stayed?! If you didn’t want me to leave you could just have come to me last night!” His voice turns into a low gnarr, sending shivers down your spine, making you think of a caged beast. You have never thought that the urge to kiss someone could be so intense. No, you are not going to kiss this heavy-handed brute! You try to free your arms, but he doesn’t budge, unmovable like a rock. Anger flames inside you with the heat of a thousand forges.

“Come to do what?! To give you your usual piece of pleasure and see that smirk on your lips while you are enjoying yourself? To fall on my knees for the King Under the Mountain as I take off his trousers and he slips his under my skirts? To be pinned to the wall by none other than his majesty King Thorin II, so that he can mark me at night like a wild animal would and barely tolerate my existence by day? If you think I would run to you like an obedient servant and fulfil your every whim whenever it suits you, you wasted two weeks of your life, your majesty!”

A shadow passes over his eyes. Unexpectedly, he lets you go, takes a step back, and runs his hand over his face.

“You are driving me mad, woman, with your senseless accusations!” He barks at you, his frown deepening. “Is that how you see me? Are you so insecure that you cannot even try to fathom one simple thing? That it is you I have chosen to spend my time with? Not any other lady but you?”

Oh, great. Now he is trying to turn the table around and make it all about your and your imaginary flaws, and remind you how great of an honor it is to spend the nights with the great Thorin Oakenshield. Not a chance! You both know that he is the problem here, not you.

“Don’t you dare to assume things about me!” you rest your hands on your hips firmly. “You know nothing of me! You didn't even care! All you cared about was to bed me! Now you don't even have the balls to ask me for it one last time because you are a proud, stubborn son of a goat and a donkey!”

“I do not have to know everything about you to see the truth!” he thunders back at you. “Do you not think I have not noticed how your eyes follow me every time I enter the council chamber? How you react whenever I touch you at night? Everyone in the Iron Hills has heard your moans of pleasure by now!”

“Well, now you will not have to be inconvenienced by them any longer! Here is your bloody treaty,” you take a few steps towards the desk and point at the stack of papers there. “You are free to copulate with every dwarf and dwarf-woman you haven’t had the chance to yet, everyone will be happy to please you! And while you’re at it, you are free to imagine they are me, because that is the only way you are going to see me from now on! In your imagination!”

In a heartbeat, he approaches you, intimidating you with his imperious glare. You take a small step back and your bottom bumps against the edge of his desk.

“I see that you are already planning to be busy in some old chambers or armory, being pinned against a wall by someone else who would try to match your appetites and fail miserably, leaving you wishing to have me between your legs instead, are you not?!” he raises his voice again. “Because if so, Lady Ragna, you can go and--”

“Fuck yourself!” you finally bawl at him, cursing that heartless dwarf and everything about him, the raw, dizzying male aura he projects, the words he spits out at you, the pain he makes you feel. That obstinate mountain goat!

“With pleasure!” Thorin the King bursts out at you, his voice echoing against the walls of the chamber together with yours.

Time stops, or at least that is what it feels like to you. A sudden silence descends on you both, interrupted only by the sounds of your frantic breathing. All you can do is stare into his stormy eyes, Thorin’s words ringing in your ears. He reciprocates the stare, not making even the slightest movement.

You and him. Him and you. Two elements against each other. One heartbeat, two heartbeats, three heartbeats.

And then the powerful wave of your combined emotions washes over you both. You grab him by his clothes. He pulls you flush against his body. You start rapidly unfastening his tunic. He grasps you firmly like a feral beast holding its prey. The skin of his hand is coarse against your cheek as he lifts your face towards his and assaults your mouth with a rough, savage kiss. Your lips attack him back. His lips are crushing yours, drawing you into the whirlwind of his passion, like an army pillaging and plundering everything it encounters on its way. He catches your upper lip between his lips, you can feel his teeth grazing your skin, and then he moves your chin up to angle your head better, diving into a deeper kiss with a ferocious growl. Oh… His ministrations send a shiver of lust down your spine, and a familiar pool of heat starts forming between your legs. But you are done, so done with him! And that is why you are bloody going to show him what he is going to miss for the rest of his kingly life! After you are done with Thorin bloody Oakenshield, he will never forget how amazing you are in bed, since bedding you was all he bloody wanted in the first place!

You fist your hands on his tunic. Your tongue dives deep into his mouth in one bold move. That bull-headed, captivating, irritating, stunningly handsome bastard of a warrior is going to feel the full force of your wrath. He counterattacks swiftly, his tongue swirling around yours, as if it was a sparring match, bringing the battle to you. Confound him!

Your hands are furiously grabbing the fabric covering his broad chest, holding him close, while your ferocious lips and your tongue decide to fight back his onslaught. You match his attack with equal force. A thrust, a feint, another attack, and a parry. Just a few moments longer. You chuckle, catching his tongue between your teeth for a moment, but at the same time, he pushes your legs apart with his knee and grinds himself slowly against you. Mahal, Mahal, Mahal! A yelp of surprise escapes you and your legs almost give way beneath you but he holds you firmly in place. His hand is splayed at the small of your back, your bottom pushed against the hard edge of the desk. Thorin the Warrior, Thorin the Lover pierces you with his ice-blue gaze, his face so close to yours.

“I feel your heat through all the layers of your skirts. You want me, Ragna, do you not?” he purrs in that seductive, deep, deep voice of his. What a presumptive dwarf!

“You have no idea what I want!” you spit back at him, pulling him towards you by his tunic. One of his temple braids brushes against your cheek while you are pressing your lips against his. “No idea whatsoever!”

While your kiss deepens, your fingers are fumbling with the stupid straps of his tunic that hinder you from enjoying the chiseled hardness of his chest, skin against skin. He lets out a growl, or maybe it is a chuckle, and thrusts his tongue into your mouth, again and again.

“Then let me show you what I want,” he murmurs hoarsely.

His hands land on your hips and pull you up quickly, unceremoniously. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck to keep balance. Now you are sitting on the desk, your legs apart, his scorching hands under your skirts, pressing into your bare thighs, as he pushes himself against you. You recognize the unmistakable hardness of his sword against your lower belly. This warrior is ready to battle. Which is good, because you are planning to sheathe him whole so that he never wants to leave.

“You can deny it all you want, but your little forge is dripping wet and ready for me, dying to be properly pounded at,” as these words leave his mouth, one of his hands traveling down between you and cupping your mound of pleasure through the fabric of your undergarments. “And that is what I am going to do to you, Ragna.”

Thorin the Warrior’s eyes never leave your face as his nimble fingers move the thin fabric aside, slick with your juices. First one, then the second finger swiftly delves inside your heat, retreating and returning, returning and retreating, leaving you dizzy, flushed, and breathless.

“You bastard,” you mumble, hungrily pressing your pelvis against him. You can only think of how intense, how good it feels, and how much you want all of him inside you. All the other thoughts are gone from your brain. You want that dwarf, his hands worshipping your body, his alluring voice whispering the filthiest praises into your ear, his feverish mouth covering every single patch of your skin, his inventive mind, his fiery temper, and his heavy-lidded eyes looking at you the way he looks at you now, darkened with desire. You want every single piece of his body and soul before it’s too late.

“Just as I told you, dripping wet…” he rumbles and retracts his fingers only to attack you once again, a sultry smirk on his face. That annoying goat of a king. That overconfident mouth of his kissing you, sucking on your lower lip. Those insistent fingers of his diving inside you, hard, fast, at just the right angle. And this is when his thumb finds its way to your ruby nub along your folds, already swollen with desire. Oh, how you looo--- Oh.

You arch your back, giving out a small moan, and then bite on your lower lip, trying to keep silent. No, there will not be any more performances by the Night Singer, not if you can help it. You have plans for another performance and you want it to happen now. Your hands wander down to his trousers and start freeing his impressive weapon from its prison. As your hand runs against the lengthy and deliciously hard bulge of his sword, he groans, but you give out a sudden gasp at the same time. Thorin’s hand, the hand of your king, has abandoned your core, leaving you empty and panting, the ripples of pleasure subsiding. He catches both of your narrow wrists in his hand, his fingers encompassing them with ease, pulling them away from his body.

“Is this what you want, Ragna?” he rumbles, his lips brushing against yours. And then he presses himself against your core. Gasping, you look down below your rolled-up skirts at his hand guiding his manhood between your folds, coating it with your juices, slowly, mercilessly playing with your patience.

“At least I know what I want!” you huff. And stifle a moan. You want him so badly it almost hurts. You want to show him what he is going to miss for the rest of his life. Now. You want him now. Inside you. You lean slightly back as an invitation, exposing yourself to him but his whole attention seems to be focused on his slow, circular movements. His glistening tip, red as the noble tourmaline and almost equally hard, slides away from the entrance to your secret temple only to return in a few heartbeats, his silky skin brushing deliciously against yours, making you burn with raw desire. Does he know how much this bloody teasing annoys you?!

“So you finally admit it. You want it as much as I do,” he leans over you, freeing your wrists from his grip.

You rest on your elbows and as soon as you feel the cool hardness of wood beneath you, you arch your back in defiance. Biting your lip, you decide not to give him the satisfaction of an answer, even though you are aware that your body has already betrayed the truth. Your chest is rapidly rising and falling, your cheeks are flushed, you feel the familiar, sweet wetness between your legs, and… admit it, Ragna. You have achieved your goal, or rather you are about to in a few moments. In Thorin’s eyes, you are like a cup of the best Dorwinion wine and you know very well that before the night ends, he is going to drink his fill. What’s more, you are not going to stop him, oh no. After all, you are planning to do exactly the same thing with him. This is your last night together, the last night you are having him only for yourself. And you are going to enjoy yourself and make him beg for more.

“Enough of the talking,” you finally grunt, and, at the right moment, when his tip is right over your entrance, you push your hips towards him, taking him in. You groan slightly as his head slips inside you exactly how you want it.

“You vixen,” he enters you with a growl, stretching you deliciously. Oh, Mahal, what an amazing feeling… Yes, that’s it. You wrap your legs around his waist, not planning to let him go anytime soon. He buckles against you like a wild pony and then slides even deeper inside you, all the way. Oh. Is it you or has he gotten even bigger overnight? Thorin is everywhere, his hot breath fanning your lips, his weapon of passion fully sheathed within you, his nose pressed into your cheek, his body leaning over yours, his hair brushing against your neck. Your lungs are filled with the scent of the forest pines, the heat of his body burns your skin, coaxing your passion for him into full bloom. One of his arms is pressed into your side as his hand rests against the desk for support, while the other is clasped at your hip.

“That’s much better,” you whisper into his mouth, licking teasingly at his lip.

“No,” a grunt rumbles in his chest, “This is.”

He thrusts into you with the force of a battering ram. Once. Twice.

“Thorin!” you grasp at the back of his powerful neck, feeling his tense muscles under your touch.

He growls and thrusts again. Harder. And once more, slower. And again. Finding a steady rhythm. Unwavering. Deliciously intense.

“This is what I want, Ragna,” he delves deep inside you, filling your secret temple of womanhood to the brim.

You bite on your lip, making an effort not to moan. Your eyes meet, and for a moment you are under the spell of his twin sapphire pools filled with insatiable desire. Breathe, Ragna.

“Every single night,” he thrusts again, pulling your hips towards him, his eyes burning into you, “This is what I want every single night, do you understand, Ragna?” “You have it now,” you reply raspily. Yes, you have this single night together, and then he leaves, and he is going to spend his other nights with... No thinking, Ragna. You don’t care about what his other nights will look like. There is a more important matter to attend to between your legs.

“You should have come to me last night,” Thorin the Warrior growls and pushes into you, demanding an answer.

“You should not have left my chambers,” you reply, thrusting your hips at him. He growls louder and his hand covers your breast still imprisoned by your bodice. Through the layers of fabric, you can feel how eager his touch is, your body demanding to feel his fingers against the delicate skin of your breasts.

“You defied me yesterday,” another thrust, sending you closer towards the edge of the bliss. “Just like you defied me tonight,” he sinks inside you once more, “bringing the documents too soon,” he grunts into your ear, his teeth nibbling at your earlobe, sending shivers of pleasure straight to your core.

“You should have not left me wanting yesterday,” you oppose him, squeezing your inner muscles around his manhood, and as an impulse, add one word at the end in a seductive whisper, “Thorin.”

A long grunt escapes him and his lips cover yours, kissing you senseless. The flames of his desire encompass you, making every fibre in your body scream in delight. You want him to burn in that fire of passion your bodies created, and you want to burn together with him.

“You will not defy me any more,” his grip on your hip intensifies as he covers your neck in sensual lovebites, driving you crazy with pleasure, but only a small whimper escapes you. Your neck arches backwards and a triumphant smile plays on your lips. Tonight, you are definitely not in an obedient mood.

“I want you to sing for me, Ragna,” Thorin the King commands you, his beard brushing against your burning skin.

When your eyes meet, you see that his gaze is clouded with the haze of passion, probably just like yours. Your hand sinks into his hair, grabbing a handful, and you utter, “Not tonight.”

You don’t want to be remembered by him as the Night Singer. To him, on your last night together, you simply want to be Ragna. The one who shared the unbelievably high diamond peaks of pleasure with him. The stubborn, the defiant Ragna. The unforgettable one.

You wrap your legs around him tighter, spurring him with your heels, welcoming his next thrusts. Thorin the Warrior is picking up the pace, the rough skin of his palm brushing against your thigh, lifting you slightly.

“Your king commands you to sing,” he murmurs huskily, ramming into you at a new angle.

“No,” you state firmly, although it sounds more like a half moan, your head spinning in ecstasy. You are not going to change your mind.

His deep growl reaches your ears, “You will sing, Ragna!”

A slap lands on your bottom as he says these words, leaving your skin tingling with heat. The sensation is new, unexpected, and completely enthralling. Some women would be outraged by it or submit to the king’s wishes at once, but not you. This rough caress only spurs you further, intensifying all the other sensations as your hips move hungrily to meet his. But… as soon as it happens, you give out an unguarded moan. Just one. One too much. Damn it.

“This is what I want to hear, Zunshanush,” his eyes flicker victoriously and he covers your lips with his. As your kiss deepens, your thighs clench around him once more and you run your nails along his back. Now it’s his turn to give out a growl of pleasure. He called you Zunshanush, a tiny songbird. Such an endearment from the mouth of this lecherous, unfeeling, gruff dwarf...

Another of his deep, powerful thrusts finds its way straight to your core, but you bite his shoulder to stifle another moan of pleasure. You are clawing his back, your hips matching his rhythm, meeting his every move, your legs tightly wrapped around his taut waist, but not another sound leaves your mouth.

With a growl, Thorin the Warrior pins your back to the desk.

“Now I have you where I want you,” he plants a rough kiss on your lips.

“What a coincidence,” you purr back at him, “This is exactly where I want you.”

Half-groan half-laughter escapes him while he launches his greatest attack in this battle, his sword shoving into you with a pace that is driving you closer and closer to completion, deeply, passionately, with abandon, causing your back to arch from the newfound pleasure. You push back towards him with a renewed force, your bodies clashing against each other, the legs of the desk screeching against the stone floor.

“So impatient…” he growls triumphantly, his body hot like a furnace covering yours, his palm greedily squeezing your breast, his teeth biting at your neck, his beard prickling you, the cold metal of his braid beads burning your hot skin and you can’t wait much longer.

You look deeply into his eyes and say two little words. Nothing more. Only you know that they contain all of your feelings, unrequited hopes, and impossible dreams. He will never know what your heart hides, but your voice will carry it all to his ears, all that cannot be.

These two little words are enough to send him over the edge as soon as they leave your mouth.

“My king!”

That is when he lunges into you again, like a charging bull, grinding against your secret mound, crashing into you like a stormy sea into rocky cliffs, sending waves of pleasure straight into your core.

You moan as the ecstasy washes over you both at the same time, his satisfied growl intertwining with your sigh and yes, you might be a bit loud. Who cares. The only important thing is that your mind is drifting away together with his, above the stars, and this is the only place you want to be right now. With him.

As the storm of ecstasy slowly subsides, your eyelids flutter open.

“Thorin?” you softly whisper his name, as if it was his true name and not the one he chose for himself. Your chest is still heaving in the aftermath of the battle of passions that has just taken place between you, the echoes of pleasure withering away, your limbs heavy with sweet tiredness.

His forehead is resting against your left collarbone, his lips placing a soft, lingering kiss on the curve of your breast as he hums questioningly in response.

“Would you please take me to bed?” you ask quietly, unsure of this new, fragile truce between you, hoping that Thorin the Lover will hear your plea and carry you away in his strong arms.

And so he does, without a word of protest, enveloping you with his reassuring warmth, holding you close against the wide expanse of his chest. Perhaps closer than usual. Or perhaps it is just your silly imagination.

* * *

You wake up, a ray of sunlight hits your face, annoying you enough to force your eyes to open. Another day begins. Another day full of meetings, ink stains on your fingers, more ink and petitions to resolve, some trouble with the miners’ safety that could be solved with a little more effort on the part of the mine overseers. You wearily extend your arm across the bed, finding it empty but still slightly warm. A smile escapes your lips and you suppress it with difficulty against the soft pile of pillows under your head.

You blink a few times before sitting up with your eyes still half-closed. You wearily move the curtains of the bed inlaid with gold and blue and place your feet on the soft black fur. For a moment, you stare at the wall of green marble in front of you. With a stifled sigh, you make your way to the bathroom letting your crimson nightgown fall to the floor. After the bath, you begin to do your hair yourself, which is now quite a rare occurrence, as is eating breakfast in a hurry, risking even choking on bread and jam. Ragna, you now have more time, you feel that everything around you moves much slower through time, the time that flows with so much sweetness that sometimes you feel as if you are flying through the corridors of the mountain, never touching the ground.

You've become lazy now, Ragna.

Someone knocks on the door and you open it. It’s your young maid who helps you put on that almost deadly tool that you are used to calling a gown, one of many, one of too many. She helps you to tighten the necklaces around your neck and laughs as she fixes the braids that you had badly styled without ever touching the one on the side of your temple. You hold it between your fingers, pressing a quick kiss on the ornamented surface of the small bead clasping it.

Some time before you might have even thrown up at such a thing... or at least that's what you'd have wanted to think yourself.

You've become romantic now, Ragna.

The maid places the heavy gold and black adornment on your head, gathering up your long locks and making you look decent when you stare at your own reflection into the mirror. Youthank her and dismiss her before heading past the small bedroom parlor and into the small room adjacent to it, still dark, and barely illuminated. You advance slowly, silently, you know what might happen if you would place your foot on the wrong marble slab... aYou want to enjoy the silence for a bit longer. You approach, guided by the half-light, and carefully move the richly ornamented transparent curtain. You can't help smiling as you look at the chubby cheek resting on the small pillow decorated with squirrels and wolves. You notice how the little hand is trying to grab one of them, its tiny owner still sleeping. You brush away a small dark lock from the ruddy cheek, before leaning down and leaving a quick kiss on his temple, something that his father loves equally much.

You've become nostalgic now, Ragna.

You cautiously close the curtain letting the little pebble have some more peace and rest. He definitely needs it after the previous two nights when he was more interested in laughing at nothing and making little noises holding his feet up and then putting his little fists in his mouth... in your bed.

You walk out of the rooms, twirling around as if nothing could break the spell of this moment. As if there was nothing but that day, like every day. You increase your pace, waving at the guards you meet at the crossings of the staircases. You know the names of every single one of them: at least in this matter your memory serves you very well. You stop and ask some of them how their day is going: many of them have recently taken wives or husbands, others have risen in rank, often thanks to your interventions. Once or twice, you had to grab the broken nose of the captain of the guards or slam your fists on tables harder than his iron gloves, but you got your way in the end.

You continue to walk down the stairs, quickly dodging two young dwarves who are already covered in mud, despite the early morning. The blond one tells you it was his brother's fault, the brown-haired one doesn't answer, staring dreamily at a dwarf maid on the other side of the stairs. When their mother sees them, she will bury them alive. Poor things.

Hurrying down, you meet other friendly faces on your little journey, and one meeting keeps you busy; a long chat with two elder dwarves, about how it's not a good idea for Durin's Day next week to serve only the wine from Mirkwood... it was too fruity. And instead, the other dwarf states how it was a great idea given its healing properties.

You tell them you'll talk about it later at the afternoon council meeting. You knew it was going to be a tough day, but you didn’t expect it to be so busy at this hour!

You have become complacent now, Ragna.

In less than a handful of minutes you find yourself in a room with a golden floor. You look ahead, standing on your tiptoes, trying to look through the crowd, but your search is unsuccessful. You keep walking. You need to search further. By now it has become your routine, a morning habit that made you feel alive.

You have become addicted now, Ragna.

You walk smiling, making bows left and right, until you arrive in the most opulent halls of the mountain. You look into the most important of them, suspended in the air… and empty.

Sighing, you keep walking and go to the next chamber, its golden door is open. You hear voices, you see figures: Lord Dain sitting on one of the chairs, lords of several clans and men of Esgaroth sitting on others, but the largest one is empty. You sigh, remaining unseen in the doorway, looking at your feet.

A pair of hands wrap around your waist pressing you against a hard body, its warmth enveloping you. A smell of pine and leather enters your nose causing your eyes to close. A chin rests on your shoulder.

"Have you come here to save me?" you hear a hoarse voice behind you, rumbling against your ribcage.

"Is there a time when I haven't?" you ask, wrapping your hands around the immense ones now resting on your belly.

In response, you receive a snort and one of the hands moves, lifting the heavy locks of your hair from your shoulder and neck.

"You've done it more times than you think," he whispers in a rough voice.

A pair of lips settles on your neck eliciting a small whimper from you mixed with a chuckle. "Have you been drinking early in the morning, my king?"

"I have yet to taste my favorite wine," he answers and gently lifts your face, turning it towards his.

A pair of eyes as blue as the clearest of waterfalls, eyebrows as black as the night you had spent by the gates of Moria, by the lake of Kheled-zâram, a well-trimmed beard with a thick braid, the three beads among his dark and silver hair rubbing against your bare shoulder, and soft, warm lips that rest on yours giving you a new breath of life.

Not even Mahal could have done so much, not even the Creator himself.

"Zunshanushê ," he murmurs against your lips with a grin.

Stupid, arrogant, stubborn and full of himself Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain. Your Thorin.

You have become happy now, Ragna.

* * *

The Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ...

Please let me know how you liked it! Do you want me to continue with this story?

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[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin and Arthur bond like never before, and war preparations are being made

Morgana sees something... worrying

Part 3 of Merlin’s angry outburst.

Part 1   Part 2   Part 4   Part 5

The next morning, everyone is up early. Merlin pays a quick trip to Gaius, to inform him of his and Arthur’s plan for that evening (earning a raised eyebrow and a concealed smirk) before meeting Morgana at the castle gates, and heading off.

Everyone is busy, and no one in the gang crosses paths for more than a few moments the whole day.

Merlin and Morgana spend almost the whole day at the Druid camp, learning what they can, and asking for healers. (Morgana gives her own raised eyebrow and smirk when Merlin requests the ingredients he’ll need to forge a mental link, but doesn’t say anything.)

Gaius is busy bustling around with the servants he was provided, instructing them on what herbs to collect, where they would be found, and how to harvest properly.

Leon has Elyan, Gwaine, and Lancelot, lead small groups of knights in opposite directions, tasked with heading to the outermost villages, and warning them of the potential danger. Leon himself and Percival stay behind, and continue to oversee training and organisation of extra patrols, and intelligence gathering.

Arthur has meetings throughout the day, mainly focused on the public announcement that would take place the next day, as well as letters to be sent to the lower town. News travelled fast in Camelot, but they wanted to make sure that everyone knew as soon as possible.

Gwen spent the day moving between the forgery, Arthur, and Gaius, making sure everyone had what they needed, and pointing out flaws or missed opportunities wherever she could.

The council may have hated her when Arthur was first crowned (”She’s just a serving girl, My Lord!”) but Arthur had shut that down quickly, and made sure everyone knew that Gwen was a trusted advisor, and was to be treated as such. And even if he hadn’t made that point, no one could deny that she was quick witted, and always made good suggestions.

The Gang gathers once again in the evening, dining together. A small hall off to the side of the throne room had become their sort of HQ, the place they congregated for meals and meetings for just the ten of them. There was only one door in, and they each had their own keys (the only ones made).

Each of them updates everyone on their progress, one by one.

Leon informs the group of when Elyan, Gwaine, and Lancelot are expected back (not for a while, it was a couple days ride to the furthest villages, and they had plenty of places to visit), and how the training is going.

Gaius happily reports that preparations for the infirmary were going quickly, even more so when he was joined by all the healers that M+M had brought back with them from the Druid camp.

Gwen tells that, whilst progress was slow at the moment, the forgery was expecting a large shipment of materials by the end of the week, and work would speed up drastically once it arrived.

Morgana reports that the Druids have only seen what she has, but they’ve promised to spread the word, and try to gather any extra information. They would be sending a few more healers once some more of the Clans had gathered together.

All in all, it’s been very successful. Despite the Kingdom only being one day into preparations for a full scale war, things are going smoothly, and none of them are feeling the pressure of panic in their skulls.

The meeting only lasts as long as dinner does, everyone still having important tasks to complete before it was time to sleep.

Other than Merlin and Arthur, Gaius is the last to leave the room, looking back and saying (with a raised eyebrow, of course):

“I’ve left everything you’ll need in The King’s chambers, do you wish for me to join you and oversee it, in case?”

Merlin replies first (not quite sure why he’s blushing):

“No, no it’s fine. Thank you Gaius. We can always send a guard for you if we need anything.” With that, Gaius heads off, and with a deep breath, Merlin stands, and gestures for Arthur to follow.

They make their way to Arthur’s chambers quickly, the silence just a little uncomfortable. Both of them wondering if they should ask the other if they’re sure one last time. Neither of them say anything.

They enter the rooms to see that Gaius has indeed placed everything neatly on the table, one of his old books lying open on a specific age, and two pain relief potions set to the side.

“Merlin are you-

“I’m fine with it, but are you-”

Both of them speak at the same time, before chuckling quietly and pausing. Merlin is the first to speak again:

“It’ll only take a few minutes to put everything together, but then there’s a spell to be said by both of us-”

Arthur widens his eyes in slight panic at that, but Merlin interrupts before he says anything:

“Don’t worry, you can just repeat after me. You’ll have to copy the symbol as well, I’ll need to paint something over your heart, and then you’ll have to paint the corresponding one over mine, you can copy from the book.”

Arthur takes a deep breath in an effort to calm his nerves (it doesn’t work) before replying to a now busy Merlin:

“I’m not magic and I... what if I get it wrong?”

Merlin looks up from the table, and smiles gently before responding:

“Nothing. I mean we’ll probably still get a headache, but other than that... we’d just have to try again tomorrow. No big deal.” He shrugs before looking back down at everything on the table.

Arthur watches him with interest and sits on the opposite side of the table, trying to get a peak at the words or symbols in the book.

After a few minutes, Merlin has a sweet smelling paste in a bowl and two paintbrushes in his hand. He walks round the side of the table, pulling the book towards him, still open. He grabs a stool and stands it in front of him, where he puts the bowl and paintbrushes.

He gestures for Arthur to stand opposite him, and unlaces the loose tunic he’s wearing. He pulls it to the side, exposing the space on his chest over his heart, indicating for Arthur to do the same.

“Right. Our left hands go on the back of each others head,-”

(Arthur struggles not to swallow at that, and nods, pushing the blush down)

“-and they need to stay there the whole time. Our right hands need to be holding a paintbrush each. They need to be over the bowl, crossed over one another, yours on top. I’ll say the spell, bit by bit, you repeat after me. When we speak we need to look at each other. Once the vocal spell has been cast, it’ll get a little glowy in here, but just ignore it, alright? After that, I’ll touch my brush to the paste. You don’t need lots, and the symbol needs to be painted in one motion, so don’t panic if you run out, it doesn’t matter, just keep going. I’ll paint the symbol at the top of the page on your chest, you need to hold still though, keep your hand in place over the bowl. Once I’ve done, I hold my paintbrush over the top of yours, you lower yours into the bowl, and then paint the symbol at the bottom of the page, onto my chest. We don’t have to hold eye contact for that, so you can look down as much as you need to, to copy it right. After it’s done, both paintbrushes can be put down, and we touch foreheads over the bowl. That’ll be the spell done, and we can move back, the pain will only start after all that has been done, and it’ll only last a few minutes, before it begins to lessen. Gaius left us some pain relief. We can practice actually talking to each other later on. Understand all of that?”

Arthur thinks for a just a second, before nodding. He’s very much grateful for all his knight and noble training at this point, he has a good memory for detailed instructions, good enough that not even his nerves could make him forget what to do.

Merlin seems completely unfazed, I suppose because A) in the grand scheme of things, it’s a very simple spell, and B) he’s focussing more on the magical aspect than the fact that basically every step of this spell, was increasingly intimate.

Arthur tries to force his mind to do the same, as Merlin receives his nod. The Sorcerer picks up his paintbrush, and cups the back of Arthur’s head, nodding at Arthur to do the same.

Arthur follows his instructions to the letter. He concentrates so much on repeating exactly what Merlin said, and painting the symbol exactly like it was drawn in the book, that he doesn’t notice Merlin’s fond smile on him.

Arthur has always pursed his lips slightly when focusing, and it’s one of the many small mannerisms that Merlin struggles to look away from.

It comes time for them to touch foreheads, and Arthur takes a deep breath as he feels Merlin pull him forward (and he does the same to Merlin).

They hold eye contact, and Arthur has to hold in a gasp at the feel of Merlin’s magic flowing through him from the moment their heads meet. Merlin holds them there for a few seconds, before letting go and stepping back, Arthur following suit.

Within seconds, both of them are doubled over and groaning, hands clutching their heads as the feeling of warm, gentle magic is replaced by a splitting headache.

Like Merlin had said, it only lasted for a couple minutes at that high intensity, but it feels like forever.

At long last, the stabbing agony turns into a dull ache. Still in a great deal of pain, but not so much that they can’t open their eyes and head over to the table to down their pain relief potions.

At Arthur’s vague gesture, the both of them head over to the two armchairs in front of the fire, and they collapse in their respective seat, each holding their heads in their hands.

(Arthur had the second comfy chair moved to his chambers after a year or so of Merlin always sitting in his, when he first stated working for him. Merlin noticed, but never mentioned it, and the new chair, though it was never said out loud, became his.)

Arthur speaks (more like groans) after a few minutes:

“I thought those potions were supposed to help?”

“Well, it’s magical pain. Curing it isn’t an exact science. Plus the pain is sort of part of the spell, it’ll have mostly faded by the morning. I can always put together something stronger if it stops us from sleeping.”

Arthur looks up at Merlin for the first time as he begins to speak again:

“So... did it work? I feel a little odd but I don’t know if that’s the headache, or whatever happened when we touched heads, or what?”

Merlin looks up, and raises his eyebrow, before saying, wordlessly:

“Yeah. It worked.”

Arthur widens his eyes at that, before scrunching his face up (Merlin just about manages to not laugh at him) in concentration, and staring at Merlin intensely:

“Am I doing it? Merlin can you hear thiiiiiiiis? Merliiiiiii-”

Merlin laughs, before actually saying:

“Yes. Gods shut up Arthur, yes you’re doing it. It’s not exactly difficult.”

Arthur joins in his laughter:

“Sorry sorry, I just wanted to make sure. What now, is that?”

“I mean, yeah, we should probably-” he huffs slightly:

“We should probably practice. You need to get used to doing it over longer distances, and whilst we’re concentrating on other things, so you don’t get caught off guard. We can just keep each other updated across the day tomorrow, that should be plenty of time for you to get used to it.”

Arthur puts his “concentration face” on again as:

“Yes you’re probably right. Just don’t say anything stupid whilst I’m in a meeting, can’t be distracted by your idiocy.”

Merlin smirks slightly, but Arthur sits up straighter, and interrupts him before he can say anything:

“Can we do the same with images? Like could we show each other what we were seeing? I imagine that would come in very handy.”

Merlin furrows his eyebrows slightly:

“It’s headache inducing, and takes a lot more energy and concentration, but we could, if it was an emergency. I’ve never done it before. We’ll have to practice at some point, if we get a quiet day.”

Arthur nods in thought, and waves around the room, focussing on the window and the laid, but cold, fireplace:

“Could you...?”

Merlin nods his head, his eyes flashing gold as the curtains draw themselves and the fireplace bursts in to roaring flames.

“Thank you.” is spoken is Merlin’s head as Arthur once again puts his head in his hands, grumbling as he rubs his temples. The conversation had helped distract for a moment, but both of them still had terrible headaches.

“Something tells me it won’t take long, you’re already using it like it’s second nature. Though you’ll have to keep an eye on that, remember we have to actually speak out loud to other people, still.”

Arthur hums, but doesn’t look up. Merlin takes that as a cue to end the conversation, and uses magic to wave over the book he was currently reading.

The Sorcerer pulls his feet up on the chair (his chair), and settles in to read another chapter, opposite from the King, who stares into the fire, deep in thought.

Arthur doesn’t take anything that the war declaration said to heart, he knows he’s done right by his people, and on good days, he’s even proud of his accomplishments, as opposed to feeling like he’s still atoning for his father’s evils.

But still. The fact that someone was this opposed to Camelot’s new found prosperity was disturbing, not only politically, but personally. What of the people under this neighbour-tyrant’s rule? Are they suffering? They will surely feel the fallout of this war more than Camelot’s people.

Arthur was caught between guilts. It would be far too dangerous to offer refuge from this tyrant’s rule, it would undoubtedly be taken advantage of by spies and usurpers. But could he, in good conscience, leave those people to suffer under whoever would replace him? When Camelot inevitably prevailed?

These thoughts plague Arthur for a while, and he’s only broken from his spiralling worries when a thump to his side, has him look up rapidly.

He lets out a quiet chuckle as he realises Merlin has fallen asleep in the other armchair (in Merlin’s chair), the heavy book dropping to the floor.

Arthur gets up quietly, stretching his back, and noting that while his head still hurts, it isn’t nearly as painful as it used to be.

He wonders over to his bed, dragging two blankets back to the chairs by the fire.

One, he drapes over Merlin. 

Arthur stands over him, and gently strokes the hair back from his face, smiling fondly as his former-manservant shuffles slightly, leaning into his hand, and mumbles unintelligibly in his sleep.

The other, he wraps around himself before settling back into his own chair, resuming the contemplative staring into the fire. Though this time, he’s thinking on the gap between him and Merlin, and how small it had gotten over the years.

You’d think that such a train of thought would be focused on the big things: the battles, the near death experiences, the emotional speeches... the outburst in the woods. But no. They barely crossed his mind. Rather, Arthur was thinking on the small things: the small smile Merlin saved for hurt children when he called them brave, the fire in his eyes when he challenged an arsehole councilman, the pride on his face when Morgana succeeded in her lessons.

Knowing of Merlin’s magic had been an important stepping stone, but a stepping stone nonetheless. Since then, in the time that had passed, he had learnt all the seemingly unimportant things that made Merlin, Merlin.

His favourite colour was blue (blue like the sky and blue like Avalon and blue like the cover of his favourite book (blue like Arthur’s eyes, not that Arthur knew that)).

His favourite season was spring (spring with flowers and baby animals and the world breathing around you. Arthur could almost see Merlin vibrating in time with the world at spring, which didn’t surprise him, once he learnt how tied to nature his magic was).

His favourite holiday was Yuletide (Yuletide with family and dancing and singing and true freedom, all ending in a new beginning, the world getting to start again, in a small way).

His birthday was the first day of the new year (truly, a new year, and a new beginning).

His favourite food is blueberries (but really, he loves any sweet fruit. Never one for actual candy though, maybe he just wasn’t used to such luxuries. Arthur found himself wanting to provide Merlin with every luxury he could ever want).

His childhood was full of mischief and fear (running around pranking people with Will all day, and going home in the evening to find nightmares filled with red cloaks and smoke and a pyre just for him).

Arthur had spent the last nine months making sure that Merlin would never have such nightmares again.  He came damn close to changing the Pendragon colours when Merlin told him of the Red Cloak detail.

Before long Arthur also finds himself nodding his head, but moving to his bed means waking Merlin up and sending him away, and honestly? Arthur would happily wake up with a crick in his neck, if it meant he could fall asleep to the sounds of Merlin, gently snoring through the night.

With that final thought, he finally drifts to sleep in his armchair, warmed by the fire, and Merlin’s presence.

~

The next morning, King Arthur, flanked by his Court Sorcerer, his Court Seer, and his First Knight, announces to a large crowd the news of the impending war.

The people are worried, but he speaks to them honestly, and they respect that. Arthur tells them of the preparations being made: the outer villages already being warned, the partnership with the Druids, the preparations of both medical supplies and the tools of war.

As they thought, word spreads quickly. The city is bustling with people. No matter the war declaration, work still has to be done, but the air is abuzz with gossip and chatter. Arthur is thankful, for the lack of panic, and sends a grateful smile to Merlin when:

“You did good. They respect, and trust you. Be proud.” echoes in his head.

~

Time passes

After a week or so, the first refugees from the outer villages start arriving, and a few days later, Elyan, Gwaine, and Lancelot make it back, having delivered the notice to all of the outlying settlements.

Like Gwen had said, work in the forgery greatly sped up, and the armoury was being stocked up.

With the help of all the Druid Healers, Gaius’ preparation of the infirmary was going quickly, and he was pleased with the progress.

Morgana was seeing bits and pieces of what The Magicians (M+M and the Druids, named by Gwaine) interpreted to be the big battle, but weren’t seeing how it would start, or how it would end.

It took the people of Camelot (including Arthur) a while to get used to it, but Merlin also had Kilgharrah and Aithusa doing daily fly overs of the whole kingdom. 

Magic wasn’t illegal in the opposing kingdom, but was taken advantage of by the crown, and Merlin didn’t want to risk them sneaking up on Camelot somehow, without anyone noticing until it was too late.

Merlin did indeed check on the tunnels like he wanted. He made doubly sure that he knew where all the exits were, and the best ways to defend them. As far as he knew, no one outside the castle knew they were there, so they could be used as an emergency evacuation plan, hopefully with the opposition taking a while to catch on.

Though Arthur liked to remind Merlin that that sort of action probably wouldn’t be necessary. The fighting would hopefully take place no where near the actual city, and even if they did, Camelot was still stronger than their opponent.

Over this time, Merlin and Arthur continued to take advantage of their mental link. Unless in the presence of other people, they spoke almost exclusively in their heads.

Arthur’s poker face was getting much better as well. Merlin's constant snarky comments during council meetings was definitely the main source of practice.

It was during such a meeting, that Morgana burst in, and looked between Merlin and Arthur frantically, before saying:

“I’ve seen it. It’s coming!” Arthur reacts first, yelling at the council:

“Everyone out, right now!-”

He then turns his attention to one of the guards:

“Go fetch Sirs Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, and Lancelot. They should be on the training ground, hurry!” (luckily, this was a rare meeting that everyone else in The Gang was already attending)

With that the guard rushes out, and the remaining members of the council (Arthur, Gwen, Gaius, Merlin, Leon, and now Morgana) rush to their side room.

As they enter, Merlin’s eyes flash gold, and he waves his hand, pushing the table and all but one of the chairs to the side of the room.

The last chair he moves to sit right in the middle, and Morgana quickly settles on it, closing her eyes.

A few minutes later, the knights come rushing in, Gwen murmuring quietly:

“Morgana has seen something, I think her and Merlin want to try and show us.”

Merlin nods to Leon, and he locks the door behind him.

The Sorcerer thrusts his arm towards the floor, and mutters a spell under his breath. His eyes flash gold, and soon enough, the room is filled with steam so thick, no one can see even a foot in front of them. They hear Merlin speak through the fog:

“Alright Morgana, just like we practiced. Focus on what you saw, and push it out of your mind, and onto the steam. Keep your breathing slow, and try to keep things chronological, clear your mind and think of nothing else.”

Morgana hums, and the group hear her take a deep breath (certainly calmed by the fact that Gwen and made her way to her, and had placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, receiving a grateful smile from Merlin).

Within moments, everyone begins to see shapes moving in the fog, and hear sounds echoing around the room.

It takes a minute or two for things to come into focus, and the fog seems to sharpen. The Gang find themselves stood in the middle of a field, all in grey. Everything is slightly blurry, and if they squint, they can see the walls of the room around them through the illusion. Arthur speaks:

“This is where the battle happens?-” 

A nod from Morgana, who still sits in a chair with closed eyes, prompts Arthur to continue:

“Does anyone recognise it?” Gwaine speaks first, snapping himself out of the shock at what was happening:

“Yeah, I do. I rode through it on the way back from handing out the notices. It’s a huge meadow maybe a three days ride to the North?”

Before anyone can reply, figures, also in grey, start to fade in around them, the first to come into focus being Merlin, closely followed by Arthur stood next to him. The real Arthur stares, obviously slightly disconcerted:

“Ok... that’s a bit weird...”

The fog!M+A look serious, glancing at each other quickly and nodding, before walking in opposite directions.

Fog!Arthur fades, the scene following fog!Merlin as he stalks across the field, before stopping suddenly. He frowns slightly, before seeming to look straight at real!Merlin, and saying:

“I’m sorry. But it’s coming. I can’t stop it, I tried. This is the only way. Just... relax... it’ll hurt less. Four days.”

Real!Merlin frowns, but gasps and takes step back as fog!Merlin looks at him meaningfully, before taking a deep breath and turns away, continuing to walk.

The weather changes, beginning to rain, and if everyone wasn’t so preoccupied by what had just happened, they would’ve laughed at fog(future?)!Merlin going “Oh for fucks sake, why am I always right?” under his breath.

Suddenly, the scene changes entirely. 

On the floor lies a body, on his side, but face down, a sword through his back, poking out through his chest. Whoever it was had been attacked from behind. Rain still pours.

If anyone had looked up, they would’ve noticed the meadow completely free of other bodies. A battlefield that had apparently held only one fight.

The Gang jumps, as they hear a yell, and turn to see fog!Arthur race towards a figure no one had noticed.

Fog!Arthur cuts them down quickly, barely paying attention, before falling to his knees next to the body:

“No.... no no no, Come on Merls, don’t do this to me.”

Everyone apart from Merlin gasps at this, watching as fog!Arthur turns the body over.

A vacant fog!Merlin stares up at the sky, unmoving, eyes glassy, blood trickling from his mouth, as fog!Arthur continues to mutter to himself unintelligibly.

Before anyone can react, the scene fades again, completely this time.

The fog melts into the floor, the room around them revealed again, as Morgana slumps in her seat, breathing deeply.

No one looks away from the spot where Merlin’s body had been until Merlin interrupts the tense silence:

“That’s not... good.” He doesn’t look scared, despite finding out that he would apparently die at some point in the near future.

Everyone looks up at him in shock, tears in Arthur’s eyes, and fear and sadness in Morgana’s, but before anyone can say anything, he speaks again:

“There’s a storm brewing at the moment, it should start in about four days, that’ll be what he... what I meant earlier. No armies. That would explain why Morgana hasn’t seen the original Bloody Battle visions in a while... no battle? Hmm.” He seems to be muttering to himself, but looks up as Arthur grabs his shoulders:

“You won’t be going. You can stay back and help at the main infirmary.”

Everyone nods in agreement, but Morgana shakes her head, before saying (obviously tired):

“That’s not how it works. The more.... solid, my visions are, the more likely they are to happen. I’ve never had a vision that clear. And you heard what Merlin... or Future Merlin, said. This is happening.” She looks to Merlin with fear in her eyes:

“You’re going to die. In four days.”

The room once again looks to Merlin, all very confused at why he looks more thoughtful than anything. He shrugs off Arthur’s hands  and paces slightly. He let’s out a thoughtful hum before looking at Morgana:

“I don’t suppose you can remember anything about that sword? Did it seem strange to you or... just a sword?” At Morgana’s confused expression, he points absentmindedly to his own chest.

Arthur interrupts:

“What does that matter? It was a sword, Merlin, through your chest. I don’t care what either of you say. We’re keeping you away from that meadow. I’ll lock you up if I have to, you’re not going.”

Merlin looks at him apologetically:

“Of course it matters. Depending on whether whoever that sword belongs to has done anything funky to it or not, I’ll just wake up again-”

He waves his hand casually:

“-and besides. You have nothing here that I couldn’t break out of, Arthur.  There really are only one or two things that can tie me down properly, and I’m sure as shit not gonna tell you what they are now. Morgana? The sword?”

She looks shocked at his casual approach before replying:

“Uhh... it didn’t feel evil or anything. It just felt like a sword, but I wouldn’t bet on it. You’ve seen how my meditations have been going recently, not everything is in focus, I could have missed an enchantment easily. I would tell you not to risk it but.... I know you. And that vision was clear. Nothing is going to stop you from... that.”

Merlin nods thoughtfully, but Arthur seems to be getting more panicked, but before he can speak, Leon interrupts:

“Wait... backtrack a minute. What do you mean “wake up again”? Merlin there was a sword through your chest. That was very much a... killing, blow.”

Merlin sighs and looks around the room, finally seeming to notice how horrified everyone looked:

“You guys... remember that I’m immortal right? Unless someone stole one of my dragons without me realizing, and made another Excalibur type weapon, again, without me realising... then I should be fine.”

Arthur bursts, grabbing Merlin once again:

“Merlin that... that was not fine! The future me was freaking out, and you weren’t waking up! There has to be another way. I won’t risk it.”

Merlin ignores him, looking instead to Gwaine:

“You said it was a three days ride away? To the North?” Gwaine nods hesitantly, and Merlin looks towards Leon:

“Have the army gather outside the city gates, but tell them that they’re not going anywhere. It looks like me and Arthur are going to be able to sort this out without any... or... you know... without any permanent bloodshed. But they should be ready just in case. Morgana, take tonight to rest, and build your strength. You’re going to be staying here, the last line of defence, if it comes to it.-”

He’s interrupted by Elyan:

“NO. Look I saw it as well as anyone in this room. But we are not leaving you. We are a family, we hold Camelot in our hands, and we won’t leave you to do this alone. We’ll all be there. You want us to stand back and watch? Fine. But you and Arthur are not doing this without us. Not this time.”

Morgana forces herself to stand, with Gwen’s support. Everyone in the room gives a decisive nod as she speaks:

“He’s right. Nothing you can do, Lord Emrys, will stop us from following you to that meadow.” Merlin looks about to argue, but she narrows her eyes at him, and he deflates.

He looks around the room, at his family, and sees their faces. All set in stone. They had just seen his body, and they weren’t going to let him do it alone, not this time.

He nods slightly, pretending that his eyes aren’t filling with tears. He reaches up and squeezes Arthur’s hand, still on his shoulder, as he sadly smiles:

“...Ok. I... thank you. If we want to get there in time, we’ll need to leave today.” 

“We need them all distracted so we can slip away.” echoes through Merlin’s head, but before he can respond, Gwen speaks up, her voice strong and determined:

“I’ll go tell the stables to get our horses ready immediately, and grab some supplies from the kitchen. Everyone meet in the courtyard in half an hour.”

Percival:

“I’ll go to the stables, you head straight for the kitchens and I’ll meet you there after and help.” Gwen gives a firm nod, and the two of them leave. Gaius speaks up next:

“I’ll gather some medical supplies, and fetch some things from my chambers, and then let the infirmary staff know what’s going on.” and he leaves without waiting for a response. Morgana speaks up next:

“I’m going to grab a change of clothes for everyone. You (gesturing to Arthur) need to grab your armour.”

She looks to Elyan questioningly:

“Yeah I’ll help. I’ll grab spares for the knights, you grab something for yourself, Merlin, The King, and Gwen.” The two of them leave, exiting the room and heading in different directions.

Arthur speaks next, but directs it to Leon:

“Have the armies gather around the city, the bulk of the force on the North side. Tell them what’s happening. Hopefully we won’t need them but... if we fail, they need to be ready.”

Leon says nothing, but gives a firm nod, and marches out of the room, heading to ring the emergency bell at the training grounds.

“Well that wasn’t too difficult. What about these two?” Is what manifests in Merlin’s head this time, and he replies quickly:

“I don’t know, but quickly. If you take too long, they’ll know you’re just coming up with excuses to get rid of them.”

Arthur looks to Lancelot and Gwaine, but before he can say anything, Gwaine laughs and interrupts him:

“Absolutely not, princess. There’s nothing left to be done, you two just want to sneak off without anyone noticing, and we won’t let you.”

Arthur huffs at that, and Merlin raises an eyebrow at him:

“I told you they wouldn’t fall for it.” Arthur gives his Sorcerer a withering glare:

“Shut up, Merlin.” Merlin just laughs in response, ignoring the confused looks on Gwaine and Lancelot’s faces.

Lancelot drops the look, and speaks:

“Ok I don’t know what that was, but Gwaine’s right. ALL of us, are going to your chambers so you can get your armour, and then ALL of us are heading down to the courtyard.”

Arthur huffs once again before marching from the room, his Sorcerer and two knights trailing closely behind him.

~

As agreed, 30 minutes later, all of them are gathered in the courtyard. Morgana and Elyan had packed each of the horses with spare clothes, and the food that Percival and Gwen had bought. 

It wasn’t much, but it would do them for the first night, they would definitely have to hunt whilst they travelled, but that’s not unfamiliar to them.

With one last look at each other, they ride out towards the Northern City Gates, Arthur leading the way. 

After Leon had informed the knights of what was going on, he had called an emergency council meeting, and informed them as well. They weren’t happy, but Leon put his “in-charge” voice on, and told them to deal with it.

They reached the gates, and Arthur nodded at a grave Gwaine to take the lead. Not a word has been spoken since they met up in the courtyard, and they ride out in silence. 

Merlin glances at Arthur next to him:

“Everything is going to be ok, Arthur.”

He gets no response.

I feel kinda bad leaving it there, but just like I thought it would, it was getting a tad too long. 

THIS IS COMPLETED!! Part 5 (final part) has been posted.

If y’all want my thoughts on anything specific, let me know :)